Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
R ockwell
Punctual as ever, even after what she’s just been through, she meets me outside the townhouse at noon on the dot. I load her up in my pretty little red BMW convertible, leaving the top down as it’s a beautiful day.
“Where are we going?” she asks, moving a tendril of hair the wind has stuck to her glossy lips.
“It’s a surprise,” I say. She wears jeans and a casual top, but I’ve had one of my staff pack a bag to hide in my trunk. Everything she could need for the next few days.
I’ve tried to match her casual dress, opting for the jeans and black crewneck sweater my sister purchased me. Of course, I’ve had to iron the crease in my jeans myself.
“You look nice,” she says, her gaze lingering a bit too long on the jeans.
“Thanks. So do you.” I carefully buckle her into the passenger seat. “You alright?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know,” she laughs.
“The date will do you good. You can take some time to process.”
“Thanks,” she says. “But I’d rather forget it.”
I wait for her to speak again. Eventually, she says, “I guess I have a half-sister. Somewhere. Her name is Megan.”
“Really?” I want to offer her everything we’ve got to find the girl, if that’s what she wants. But the offer can wait. She’s clearly overwhelmed.
“Yes. It was nice to put all that to rest. He’s going to turn himself in and go back. He was planning to all along. He just wanted to apologize first.”
Already informed of his decisions, my men have put him on the family’s private jet to return him to Wales where he’ll be taken to the police station to surrender.
“Good,” I say. “I’m glad you weren’t the one left with the choice, having to decide whether or not to turn him in.”
“I know. That would not have been pleasant.” She shakes her head. “I’m already wrestling with the question if I should try to meet my half-sister and her mother, or if it’s better to not disrupt their life at all.”
“I can’t tell you what to do,” I say. “All I know is my life is a million times better, knowing you.”
“Oh, god. That’s sweet. Thank you.” She dabs away tears.
We talk quietly, her telling me about their meeting. It feels good, having her trust me like this. When she tires from the conversation, I know to stop asking questions.
She sings softly with the radio, knowing all the words to the popular pop songs girls her age listen to as we drive. I wonder if she’s one of those Swiftlies everyone is always talking about. Or it is Swiftie? She looks out the window, enjoying the view of the city in this perfect weather, leaving her father as a closed chapter behind her.
As we pull up to the dock at the Bachman New York Harbor Yacht Club, I can see the excitement in her eyes. This is a place that only our family has access to, and it’s become a second home for us.
I help her from the car, and we walk toward the clubhouse, where our family’s yacht, Aphrodite , is docked. As we enter, she takes in the luxurious surroundings, from the marble floors to the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A fully stocked bar awaits us, with smartly dressed staff standing behind the white linen-covered top.
“Champagne?” they ask, greeting us with icy flutes of bubbles.
“Let me ask the lady what we’re having,” I reply. I turn to Lily. “Would you like a glass of champagne?”
“This place is incredible,” she whispers, looking around in awe. “I don’t typically drink, but I think I would like to on this trip.”
“Excellent.” I nod to the staff holding the tray, giving them permission.
She accepts a flute from the staff member. Tasting it, her eyes light up. “Delicious!”
“It’s our little slice of paradise,” I reply with a smile. I receive my own glass and hold it up in the air. “To us,” I say.
She gives me a shy smile. “To us.”
We lightly clink our glasses together.
This is the perfect place for her to unwind after the tense meeting with her dad.
The warm sun shines down on our shoulders as we stand at the railing of the boat, drinking champagne as we watch the men untie our boat so we can slip from the dock deeper into the water.
We make peaceful conversation, me avoiding any topics she might find stressful, as we cruise away from the clubhouse and dock, observing the other boats, watching as a local sail club races their sleek boats in the breeze.
We make our way to the back of the yacht. There’s a wide deck on this level, a table set for two with linens, wine sitting on ice and a platter of ripe strawberries where lunch will be brought to us.
I pull her chair out and we sit down at our table.
“I hope you like seafood,” I say as I pour her a glass of wine.
“Oh, yes, I love it,” she replies eagerly, tasting the wine.
As we enjoy fresh fish and lobster, we talk and laugh as if we’ve known each other for years. It feels so natural being with her, like we were meant to be together.
After lunch, I take her out onto the water for a tour of Manhattan from a different perspective. She’s completely captivated by everything she sees and asks me endless questions about each landmark we pass by.
After the emotional reunion with her dad, the champagne, sun, and wine, I can tell she’s feeling tired. I take her to the plush bedroom suite where I suggest she takes a nap before dinner.
“I don’t want to miss anything,” she says.
“Don’t worry,” I say with a sly smile. “I have something special planned for tonight. But first, come here.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reach out for her hand, pulling her onto my lap.
She cuddles in close against me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I just want to check in. Make sure you’re okay, after today.”
She nods. “I really am. I just want to close that chapter for now. You know?”
“I get it.” I kiss her cheek. “Now get some sleep so you can enjoy our evening.”
She looks at me curiously but doesn’t press for more information. Instead, she happily agrees to take a nap before getting ready for dinner.
I take the time to make a few calls. Check in with Claudia at the office.
My sister snaps up the phone on the first ring. “Rockwell Enterprises. Claudia speaking. How can I help you secure your financial future?”
“It’s me, sis.”
“What? Seriously? Rock—get a grip. You are on a yacht . You should be drinking wine naked and feeding your girl strawberries.”
“Don’t ever say the word naked to me again.”
“Naked, naked, naked. So there.”
“You know I can’t leave the office for an entire workday and not even check in?—”
“Rock. Stop. You’re pathetic.”
“You’re the only person who could call me pathetic without serious consequences.”
“Please. I’d kick your ass.” Finally, she fills me in on the trends of the day then ends the conversation with, “I’m hanging up now. And do not call again.”
Taking Claudia’s advice, I forget about work and find my way to the bedroom. Lily’s sleeping in the bed, a tiny ball of sweetness, and I have to hold her. I slide in next to her, careful not to wake her.
When she stirs in my arms, I gently kiss her forehead and tell her that it’s time for dinner. She gets dressed in one of her new outfits from Daughtry’s, a light blue glittery gown, and I can’t help but stare at her, appreciating the way the fabric clings to her curves. I take her hand and lead her out to the dining room on the upper deck, where a table has been set up with strings of white lights, candles, and flowers.
She gasps at the sight, clearly impressed by the effort I’ve made to make the night special. We sit down and I pour us both a glass of wine, raised to toast the night ahead.
“To this,” she says softly, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Whatever this is.”
“To us,” I add, my chest warming with affection for her.
We spend the evening laughing, sharing stories, and enjoying each other’s company. As the night wears on, I can feel the tension between us growing, a palpable energy that seems to hang in the air like a thick fog.
Anticipation of a sensual encounter for the two of us.
Finally, after dessert, I stand up from the table and take her hand.
“Come,” I whisper, leading her toward the balcony that overlooks the city.
The moon hangs high in the sky, casting a soft glow over everything it touches. We stand there for a moment, simply taking in the beauty of the night. But then, something inside me snaps. I turn to face her, my gaze locked onto her lips.
I can’t resist any longer. With a determined look in my eyes, I pull her closer, my hands cupping her face as I lean in to kiss her. Her eyes flutter open, wide with surprise but tinged with excitement. I feel her breath hitch as our lips brush against each other for the first time tonight.
It’s electrifying.
As if we were meant to be together, our lips seem to know one another. God. I’ve got to stop thinking like this. It’s just a fling, a thing, a moment that fate brought us together. I’m helping her; she’s helping drag me out of the rut I’ve been in.
That’s all.
Our bodies were not made for one another. They just seem to be very happy in one another’s company. Our tongues meet as our bodies press against each other. I lose myself in the intensity of the moment.
The cool breeze carries the scent of the ocean, mingling with the scent of her skin as we kiss.
She wraps her arms around my neck, and I feel her body melting into mine. My hands roam over her back, feeling the gentle curve of her waist, the warm skin of her back. I can’t get enough of her, of this feeling.
I try to be a gentleman, but her body feels so good, the material of the dress is so cool and silky, I can’t help but let my touch dip below her waist so I can squeeze her ass.
I break the kiss for a moment, my lips still grazing her cheek as I whisper, “I want you. Now.”
She’s looking up at me, desire in her gaze. “I?—”
We’re interrupted by my surprise. The one I’d forgotten about. The one that is now going to stop me from doing what I really want.