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I knew there was something more.
I felt it.
My friends thought I was crazy. It cost me a grand to get a room for one more night because the hotel was full and they only had suites available. I put it on my card without a second guess.
The next day, I booked a boat and prayed she’d take me up on my offer. She did, and that was when I knew I had one chance to see if this girl was real. Didn’t help I’d never sailed before. I’d figure it out.
The sun beat down on our skin, hot and inviting against the constant breeze of the Caribbean island. She stunned me by wearing a black bikini that I could see through the thin fabric of her cover-up. Catamarans aren’t that big, so I was pleased she had to sit close to me. The constant erection I was trying to hide wasn’t pleased, but I made do with some serious shifting.
We talked about simple things. I wanted to know why she had become a wedding planner. She asked me my favorite hobby as a child. Our conversation was easy. It flowed.
I started to sing. Tim McGraw’s “Live Like You Were Dying”is what came out, and I just let it all belt out as I navigated us around the island. I had no idea where I was going so when the wind started to pull us toward an inlet, I let it, for fear of her noticing what an idiot I was.
There was a cliff with people jumping off. I thanked the gods of sun and wind for dragging us in that direction. When we got close, I dropped the small anchor that came with the boat.
“Lunch?” I asked as I opened a cooler of sandwiches and fresh fruit.
“A meal and a show, huh?” she teased as she took the sandwich, I’d made her. “You’re a good singer, Luke. Between your voice and the wind in my hair, it felt like I was on a real vacation for a minute.”
I took a seat beside her with a tangerine. “You mean to tell me you didn’t book an extra day onto this trip for pleasure?”
“Who has the luxury to take time off like that?”
I laughed, knowing my own secret. “Someone who takes chances.”
“These are my years to work hard and prove myself. I’ll party when I’m settled in my career.”
“Not a risk-taker, I see.” I punctured the skin of the fruit with my thumb.
She balked as she looked at the water and the people floating at the foot of the cliff. “The way I grew up, you weren’t to make a splash, for it might disturb the swimmers around you.”
“I was raised to cannonball through life.”
That comment made her laugh. “You’re funny. Cheesy and charming.”
“Not the two adjectives a man aims for, but I’ll take it.” I popped a piece of tangerine into my mouth and grinned.
The Cupid’s bow of her mouth pursed as she raised her brows. “What adjectives would you use to describe yourself?”
“Gallant. Alluring. Prepossessing,” I say and then explain, “It means highly attractive. My sister is obsessed with words. What else? Captivating—”
“Vexing,” she adds.
“Tenacious. I think that’s the right word.”
Her eyes rolled. “Untiring.”
“I could definitely tire you out.” I winked as I popped in another piece of fruit. That comment had her lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes.
“I’m not into playboys.”
“What are you into?”
She bit her lip and curled her knees to her side. “Sensitive men who aren’t afraid to show a woman his feelings.”
“Women always say that, but they go for the alpha asshole. Just like men think they want a complacent woman so they can domineer when what we’re really looking for is someone to help us through life because we’re fucking clueless.”
She giggled, deep and throaty. Damn, the sound of that voice and the way she radiated with that smile that reached her eyes … it had me rubbing my heart again.
