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“I seriously can’t believe there’s a dining room down here. This is nuts.”
Pulling her to me, unable to wait much longer, I kiss Evie with all of the fear, and longing, that’s been bottled inside this week. Knowing she was beginning to pull away from me, unsure how to stop it . . . it was as scared as I can remember being since the opening night of the restaurant.
Our kiss quickly spirals out of control, and most likely we’d have christened the DeLuca family yacht, as Enzo called it, if not for someone calling my name.
“Hold that thought?”
Evie’s smile isn’t the least bit unsure. But there’s still so much to discuss. Our future, namely.
“Come on, let’s go grab our stuff and meet the crew.”
“Meet the crew,” she murmurs. “Whose life is this right now?”
Kissing her nose, knowing how she feels, I remind her of something that I have to force myself to remember often.
“It’s yours. Ours. And you should not feel guilty for enjoying it.”
She freezes.
“How did you just read my mind?”
Easy. “We are more alike than you realize, Evie. Come on, we have an exciting day ahead.”
Exciting indeed. This dinner on deck is the perfect nightcap to a perfect day.
After getting a proper tour and meeting the three-person crew, includingArline’s captain, steward and chef, we spent the afternoon watching the coast disappear, sunbathing, talking and kissing.
There’s been a lot of kissing but nothing else. Yet. I’m waiting for Evie to make the first move. This was all my idea, and even though we’ve worked through what went wrong this week and talked extensively about how to avoid conflict of interest discussions, I don’t want to push it. I want her to know she is in control.
“Can you even imagine this?” The final course arrived a bit ago: chocolate truffle layer cake with a bottle of champagne. We sip that now, the lights of our vessel the only ones out here with the exception of a small one from another boat that passed us some time ago.
“It’s pretty amazing,” I agree.
“I still can’t believe you asked Enzo to do this.”
Evie sits across from me in a white sundress, looking every bit like she belongs on the deck of some multimillion-dollar yacht.
“I’ll never be able to give this to you,” I admit. “But my brother can, and it’s about time I reconcile myself to the fact that he is simply more successful.”
She opens her mouth to argue.
“By some standards,” I add. “Inventing a new way to drink alcohol is pretty extraordinary, and not something a restaurateur could ever compete with. But I’m done trying. There are other measures, more important than this.” I wave my arms around. “And by those, I’m just as successful as Enzo.”
“Right,” Evie says. “That’s what I wanted to say. But you already knew that, Tris. I’ve never met anyone more family-oriented than you. I don’t have to tell you I’d give a hundred yachts to have another day with either of my parents.”
“I realize that . . . thanks to you.”
“He was probably thrilled to help out.”
Smiling, I think of our conversations today. “He was surprised, for sure. And I’ll admit, it’s hard to shake the feeling that I should take care of him, and not the other way around. But I’m working on it.”
All evening, music has been lightly playing through the speakers, which gave me an idea earlier. I told the steward to play it after dessert was served. And now, as the music’s volume suddenly increases, and the first chord is struck, I wait to see if Evie recognizes the song.
Some day, when I’m awfully low.
“Oh my God.” Evie’s jaw drops.
When the world is cold.
