Page 60 of Flirting with Trouble

When we finally force ourselves to leave the hotel, we stop at a café for breakfast, where we share pastries, and I buy us touristy Inner Harbor T-shirts to change into since mine smells like stale beer. Victory looks cute as hell in hers, fresh faced, her hair untamed, and that unstoppable smile that does me in every damn time I see it.

We check out the shops, and I buy matching key chains with little boats on them, and Victory looks at me like I’m being silly. But I can tell she likes it when I say, “Twenty years from now, we’ll look back at these and say, ‘Remember when we stayed at that amazing hotel and went on our first Saturday Scoutabout?’”

“That assumes we’ll still be friends in twenty years,” she says as we leave the store.

I take her hand, tugging her into a quick kiss. “We’ll be more than friends, and you know it.”

“Oh yeah? Are you just going to be my boy toy forever?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

I keep hold of her hand as we make our way toward the docks to check out the historic ships, trying not to focus on how much I like that she didn’t fight me on my response. I glance at her, and she’s watching a butterfly fluttering beside us as we walk. “Looks like you made a friend.”

“Yeah,” she says softly, her eyes still trained on the butterfly.

“What makes butterflies special enough that you wanted one permanently inked on your wrist?”

“I was mystified by them when I was little.” She turns a thoughtful gaze on me. “We saw the most gorgeous, vibrant ones in the rainforests and jungles when we were overseas, but when I moved to the city, I never saw them until after I lost Harvey. Then I saw them often enough that I couldn’t ignore them. I’d be walking down the sidewalk, and a butterfly would flutter around me, like that one just did. Or I’d see a picture of one in a store, and it was always when I was contemplating something important or having a really hard day. My mom was visiting when we saw one together. She was surprised to see it flying around the busy city sidewalk, and it stayed with us for a whole block. I told her how often I’d seen them, and she reminded me that they represent hope and new beginnings, and in some cultures, they’re seen as messengers from the spirit world.”

“Harvey,” I say as understanding hits with warmth, not disbelief, earning a smile.

“Yeah. That’s when I started thinking of them as a sign from him, and maybe I needed that crutch, I don’t know, but seeing butterflies gave me the courage to make the difficult decisions and push through hard times. That’s why I got the tattoo, so Harvey would always be with me.”

“It doesn’t matter if you needed a crutch or not. I think that’s beautiful, and I’m glad you have a little piece of him with you.” I lift our joined hands and kiss the butterfly.

She doesn’t say a word, but that slightly bashful, relieved smile appears, and as we make our way to the ships, she holds my hand a little tighter.

As we explore one of the ships alongside other tourists, Victory leans in close and says, “What kind of boat do you have?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

She gives me an incredulous look. “You live on Silver Island, you have a restaurant on the water, and you said you’d love to find a place like the hotel for your restaurant because it’s on the water. It’s not that hard to figure out that you’re a boat guy.”

“I’m going to have to work on being more mysterious. I do have a boat, but it’s nothing fancy. Play your cards right, and I’ll take you out on it someday.”

“What makes you think I’d want to go out on your boat?” she asks sassily.

I slide my arm around her waist and haul her against me. “Something tells me you’d like to lie in the sun as I pilot us out of the harbor and anchor far from shore.” I press my cheek to hers and whisper, “Where I’ll strip off your bikini with my teeth and make you come so loud, it echoes in the sea.”

She eyes the people milling about, her cheeks pinking up. When those gorgeous baby blues land on me, she whispers, “I think I might like that boat ride after all.”

I laugh and kiss her. “For the record, I’m usually right.”

“And you’re always cocky.”

“I didn’t hear any complaints about my cockiness this morning.”

Her eyes widen. “You’re so…”

“Unbelievable?” I drape an arm over her shoulder and kiss her temple. “Let’s stick with that.”

She just shakes her head.

After checking out the ships, we have lunch at an outdoor café, where we enjoy fresh crabs, cold drinks, and more fun conversation, before heading to the National Aquarium.

The place is busy. Couples are walking arm in arm, parents are chasing after children, and groups gather around tanks and displays as little ones put their sticky fingers on the glass, oohing and aahing. Victory is watching the kids with a longing in her eyes that I haven’t seen before.

“They’re cute, huh?” I pull her closer.