“What’s all this?” I waved at the massive truck. Thank God it had chrome running boards to help me climb up.
“This is what I drive when I want to impress a girl. Size matters.” West wiggled his eyebrows as he opened my door.
I was almost in the front seat when I paused, looking back at him. “You weren’t trying to impress me before?”
“Nope. Before you were just, just…” His voice trailed off, and he left the sentence hanging. “Today, I’m taking you on a date.”
I arched an eyebrow but refrained from commenting.
As I settled my bag onto the floor of the front seat, General Beauregard scrambled around the back, trying to climb over the center console to greet me. I reached back to rub his floppy ears and ended up covered in puppy kisses. A small flock — a herd? a pack? — of butterflies took flight in my stomach, and I took a deep breath to calm myself, but I couldn’t stop a small grin from escaping.
Slipping my sunglasses on, I waited for West to climb in next to me, and I fiddled with the air conditioning vents. “Yeah, I’m impressed with the chaperone. And you never told me where we were going. Am I dressed okay?”
West’s eyes darted over me, from my flat-ironed hair to my aviators, past my racerback sundress with my bikini straps peeking out, and down to my seafoam-green painted toenails.
His lips twitched. “It’ll work.”
West turned the radio station to the same one I had picked the day he drove me home from the hotel — coincidence? — and headed toward the main parkway that ran the length of the island.
“Where are we going?” I tried again, since subtlety hadn’t gotten me very far.
“Picnic. Don’t you pay attention?”
I took a deep breath. “You’re going to be difficult, aren’t you?”
“We’ve already done easy. Thought I’d try something new.”
Smiling and shaking my head, I turned the radio up and looked out the window, content to wait him out. The road was lined with oak trees draped with Spanish moss that arched over the road, forming a canopy and cocooning us in dappled shade. Stripes of cirrus clouds lined the sky, and the humidity was only moderately suffocating. It was a beautiful day to hang out with a hot guy and his cute dog. The truck took a left, but I didn’t recognize the street we turned down. We passed a bait shop and a gas station, and eased into a… marina.
“We’re going on a boat?”
A huge grin split West’s cheeks.
“Not a boat. My boat. There’s a difference.”
I took a deep breath.
“West, you know I’m scared of the water.”
“I do. Which is why you’ll be on a boat.”
I stared at him, wondering about his intelligence level.
He sighed. “You’ll be on a boat. The boat will be in the water. You will not be in the water. See what’s happening here?”
I swallowed, uncomfortable. I could do this. I would be safe on the boat. I’m sure it had life jackets or those lifesaving rings or something. And it had West. I’d be fine.
Perfectly fine.
Pinning an apprehensive smile on my face, I jumped out of the truck, hitching my tote with my towel and things over my shoulder. West directed me to hold General Beauregard’s leash while he balanced one of the giant Coleman coolers from the bar on his shoulder and carried a large beach bag in the other hand.
As soon as I slipped my hand through the loop on the end of the leash, General Beauregard took off, pulling me through the parking lot toward the dock. “Whoa, boy,” I said, trying not to trip as we raced down the main walkway.
When we got almost to the end of the dock, General Beauregard suddenly swerved, then took a flying leap and jumped into a long white-hulled boat. Running behind him with my wrist stuck in the leash and unable to stop the momentum, my eyes grew wide as I launched myself after him, Superman-style.
I kind of made it.
My upper body cleared the side of the boat, but my hip and shin slammed into the fiberglass hull. General Beauregard was trying to get to the bow of the boat, and his continued tugging pulled me the rest of the way onboard.
Damn, that was going to bruise. Sex-ay.
Mortified, I just laid there, slumped against the sidewall, prying the leash off my wrist so that crazy ass pony that masqueraded as a dog wouldn’t drag me like a bobsled across the snowy white deck. My shin throbbed. Yeah, this is why dates were a bad idea.
West’s footsteps echoed off the aluminum dock as he approached.
“Sadie!” he called out, dropping the gear and hurdling over the side of the boat like a track star, landing gracefully on his feet.
Show off.
“Are you okay?”
He scooped me up and set me down on a large orange bean bag. I looked down. A bean bag? Yup, there were two bean bags in a big open area behind the hardtop-covered center console. He ran his hands down my legs, and I winced and hissed out a breath when he brushed over my shin. He swore and jammed his hand through his hair before jumping back to his feet.
After retrieving the rest of the supplies from the dock, he rustled around in them before returning with ice wrapped in a beach towel. He sat down next to me, pulled my leg into his lap, and placed the ice pack against my tender shin. I was mesmerized by West’s fingers as he held the cold towel against me, one hand massaging the back of my calf.
Thank God I had shaved my legs this morning.
General Beauregard walked over, tucked his tail, and looked at me with sad eyes. He whined and snuggled up next to me, nudging my hand with his nose and giving me his best doggy apology. I patted him once, forgiving him, mostly because he looked so darn remorseful with those droopy eyes and ears.
“Fuck, Sadie, I’m sorry. If you want me to just take you home, I understand.” Frustration colored West’s voice. “Wyatt was meeting with the bank guy, and I told him I’d take the dog. Dumb hound loves the boat. I didn’t think about how strong he was for someone as small as you.”
A giggle bubbled from my lips, growing until I was full on belly laughing. I fell back against the bean bag and shook my head in defeat. “Seriously, I’m not a clumsy person. But, somehow, every time I’m around you, something happens. You sure you don’t plan this shit, just so you can swoop in and play hero?”
West squeezed my calf. “I’m fucking this all up. This is why I don’t date. I don’t know how to do this right.”
General Beauregard licked my hand. I glared at him. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” Peeking at West out of the corner of my eye, I added, “You too.”
West looked at me, his eyes blazing with intensity.
Reaching out, he captured a lock of my hair and ran his fingers down the length. He tugged the end. “Want to try this again? I’m going to motor us out a little ways, and then we’ll have a floating picnic like I promised you. You can stay right here and relax. The bean bags are the best seats on the boat.”
I took a second to look around. The boat was long, easily forty feet, but was mostly empty deck. The tall bench behind the center console was embroidered with the same logo I’d seen on his truck. Vitamin Sea. A fishing pole underlined the words.
My lips quirked, and I nodded at the graphic. “Who named the boat?”
“Hailey named her.”
“Her?”
“Yep. Anything I spend that much time riding on had better be a female.”
I pointed around me at the expanse. “Is she big enough?”
He shrugged. “Depends. Are you impressed?”
“I’ve been told size matters.”
“It’s true. Want to see her flex her muscles?”
General Beauregard bayed in excitement, his tail thwacking my arm.
“Sure. Show me how your fancy toy works.”
West’s lips twitched, whether from annoyance or amusement I couldn’t tell. “This toy is my livelihood, babe. Be nice.”
As he made his way to the center console, I called after him, “Or else, what?”
“Or else I’ll make fun of your little Polaroids.”
I snapped my mouth shut. Was that a reference to Aubrey’s pictures? I had no idea if Aubrey had given him copies or not, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. I brooded as West untied the lines from the dock, and we puttered out of the marina until we reached the end of the no-wake zone. Cranking the four outboard engines, West sped up, and the boat skimmed over the water, practically flying. My hair flew everywhere, and I abandoned the ice on my leg to try to salvage my tangling strands. Catching as much of it as I could, I made a messy side braid and wrapped the hair tie from my wrist around the end, securing it.
We were going so fast it was making my eyes water, even behind my Ray-Bans. Struggling to my feet, I made my way up to the center console, where the windshield provided some protection. I leaned back against the tall bench seat, keeping my knees bent to absorb the bounce of the boat as we scooted across the rolling waves.
West grinned over at me, clearly in his element. Snaking his arm around my waist, he pulled me to his side, keeping his other hand relaxed on the steering wheel.
Turning his head toward me to be heard over the roar of the wind and the engines, he yelled, “Want to drive?”
Surprised at his question, I shook my head no. “I have no idea how to drive a boat!”
Laughing, he took my hand and put it on the steering wheel under his, maneuvering me so I was standing in front of him. “There. Now you’re driving a boat. This screen here is your depth finder. We need at least five feet.” The display showed thirty-four feet of water under us. Plenty deep.
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