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I bite back my smile, looking across the kitchen island at Vinny and Ave. Ave who now has a perfect French braid twisted in her hair. “We’re going to head into the village for the day, if that’s okay,” Vinny tells me. “Thought we could meet you there for dinner tonight when you’re done. One last knees-up before we head home tomorrow.”
“What’s a knees-up?” Ave asks.
“That’s sounds perfect, Vin. Thank you.”
He nods gently, helping Ave down from the chair and taking her hand. “A knees-up is like a get together…”
I stare after them as their voices fade out down the corridor, a heavy but warm ache pulsing in my chest.
I sometimes wonder if Mum sent Vinny because she knew Dad wouldn’t have enough time with us.
“He’s a top bloke, isn’t he?”
With a watery smile, I look at Lance. “The best.”
He moves around the kitchen toward me. “You look beautiful today.”
“Thank you.” My skin burns as he pulls me to his chest. I tip my head back, peering up at him. “Where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I purse my lips, refraining from kissing him. “I wore this dress for you today.” I grin, and he smirks back, stepping away from me with our hands entwined.
He picks up a basket from the side, leading me from the kitchen. “I know you did, sunshine.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach as Lance shakes out the blanket and flattens it to the bed of the boat. I say boat, but the one-hundred-foot yacht that Lance has hired for the day would sink if it could hear me.
“This is beautiful,” I say in awe.
Lance stands, gazing around the open water.
My attention is firmly on him.
He’s wearing a white linen shirt with beige shorts and black sunglasses. His hair is styled in a perfect mess, as if he’s run his hand through it and said done. His jaw is coated in the same dark stubble that brushed against the soft skin at my thighs last night.
He looks like he did when we first met, only older and justmore.
I’m not sure I’ve ever been more attracted to a man.
“I have some not so burnt things in here,” he tells me, a cheeky look on his face as he lays himself out on the blanket and reaches for the basket. “Waverley helped me pack this, so no judgement.”
I sit down on the blanket, folding my legs under me.
Lance pulls out a bottle of champagne and two glasses, uncorking it and handing me a glass. “Thank you,” I say, not drinking it right away.
He extends his hand toward me. “To a better first date.”
I pull my glass to my chest before he can clink it. “I loved the first.”
“So did I. But this one will be better,” he says, leaning further and tapping his glass to mine. He takes a sip, and I follow, the bubbles fizzing on my tongue.
“Do you remember much from that first night?” I ask.
“Other than taking you out to dinner and getting knocked on my ass?” He chuckles, his eyes darkening as he meets my eyes. “I remember all of it. I kept thinking I should run. The second I knew you were too good for me, I knew I should go back the way I came.”
“You didn’t.”
“I couldn’t. You told me you didn’t have time for me, that you’d fuck me but wouldn’t give me a thing more. It was like a moth to a flame.” He looks away from me, shaking his head. “I was ruined from the first kiss.”
