15. The Yacht
the yacht
. . .
Ellie
Apparently, Cade Westbrook didn’t trust me to make it to the dock on my own the following day, because he sent an intimidating black SUV to pick me up at Kitty’s.
Mac sulked in the driver’s seat, clearly not thrilled about being sent to retrieve me. I tried not to take it personally when he made me sit in the back and raised a dark screen between us, but his muffled hardcore punk music felt like a message.
At least Whiskey kept me company atop his pillow on my lap, and I scratched the spot under his chin that always had his eyes closing in blissful happiness.
It’d been a long night filled with rescheduling my clients and memorizing Cade’s file, plus a brief his PR team had put together on our “relationship timeline.” Nate had hand-delivered it to my attic apartment around midnight, after calling me with dozens of questions—from my measurements to allergies to ring size.
The PR team’s efforts left a lot to be desired.
According to them, Cade and I had met at a charity gala six months ago and hit it off, then we’d kept in touch while Cade was in the UK for work.
The brief didn’t even mention an actual proposal—just that fictional Cade and Ellie had “mutually decided marriage was the next logical step for their relationship.”
… Boring.
Where was the romance? The passion? I couldn’t get excited about telling that lame story.
“Luckily, it’s not too late to make a few modifications,” I murmured to Whiskey.
Instead of agreeing, Whiskey nudged my wrist with his nose to let me know I’d been slacking on my chin-rubbing and needed to do better. I happily obliged.
At a stoplight, the screen divider lowered a few inches, and I caught Mac eyeing Whiskey through the rearview mirror—suspicion clear as day in his gaze.
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “Your shoelaces are safe.”
For now, I added silently.
Mac just grunted before refocusing on the road.
We arrived at the harbor sooner than I was ready for, and Mac further startled both me and Whiskey by whipping my door open. Thank god the velvet pillow blocked my thighs from Whiskey’s claws.
“Hurry up,” Mac ordered brusquely. “Cade’s waiting at the dock.”
“Okay, okay,” I murmured, tucking Whiskey against my chest and hopping down onto the pavement.
I quickly packed Whiskey and his pillow into his astronaut backpack while Mac collected my overstuffed, battered suitcase from the trunk.
One of the zippers was broken, and a wheel had stopped working ages ago, and he only briefly tried to roll it before picking the entire thing off the ground.
I tilted my head back to soak in the summer sun and a cool, welcoming breeze you could only get next to the ocean—like it was inviting me to come and play. It pulled some blue strands free of my French braid, and I tucked one behind my ear.
Salt air tickled my nose, making me greedily inhale.
I adjusted my yellow crocheted crop top and looked around while Mac nudged past me. He lugged an additional sleek black suitcase along with mine.
Then I spotted him.
Gleaming white boats lined both sides of the marina, and Cade Westbrook stood in the middle of them all, watching the parking lot with a small frown.
He looked every bit the part of a wealthy sailing hotshot—fancy boat shoes and all.
His dark hair was styled back with a natural wave, the sleeves of his crisp white linen shirt casually rolled up to his elbows.
His toned forearms had no right to be that attractive.
I wasn’t usually one to notice price tags, but Cade’s sunglasses alone had to cost more than my entire outfit. That had me feeling out of place in a way I hadn’t prepared for.
Before I could delve deeper into that feeling, Cade spotted us and lost just a touch of the tenseness in his shoulders. He curled a couple fingers, beckoning us over, and nodded at a nearby boat.
Mac reached him first, strode past Cade, and hopped down onto the deck of the boat, while I lagged on my shorter legs.
Cade’s brows rose at my backpack when I reached him. “You brought the cat. Shouldn’t he be at that chateau?”
I’d gotten a voicemail from Chateau de Chaton this morning cordially inviting Lord Whiskerson to be a member, so Cade hadn’t been lying about his connections. But it didn’t feel right leaving Westport for the first time without my best friend by my side.
“I couldn’t leave Whiskey behind. He loves adventures.” I smiled and gripped the backpack’s straps. “Don’t worry. I called Madison and made sure it was okay with her first.”
Cade blinked down at me. “I never mentioned Madison to you. How did you get her number?”
“Well, she was in your family tree. It made more sense with our ruse for me to reach out to her directly instead of through your brother, so I asked Nate for her number yesterday. He’s very helpful. I can see why you hired him,” I said, then paused. “You’re not allergic to cats, are you?”
I probably should’ve asked before choosing a cat café for our meeting yesterday.
Cade’s unamused stare didn’t quite answer the question.
A loud thud sounded from the boat, followed by Mac cursing, and I winced. “Isn’t your bodyguard supposed to be with you at all times? Not chauffeuring me around?”
“Mac’s the only one I trusted to make sure you didn’t run off without upholding your end of our deal,” Cade said, making me shake my head with a laugh.
“You promised me everything I could ever need, Cade,” I said, smiling. “I’d be a fool to pass this up.”
His gaze narrowed, studying me like I’d just grown a second head, so I turned to the boat.
Mac had already settled into a lounge area with chairs near the back, snacking on a tray filled with fruit, drinks beside him.
The deck even had a hot tub, just like a party boat I’d seen on TV.
“Wow. I can’t believe your grandfather has his own yacht. It’s beautiful.”
A low chuckle rumbled from Cade.
“This isn’t my grandfather’s yacht.” The smirk in his voice pulled my attention back to him as he nodded behind me. “That is.”
I swiveled, and my jaw dropped. A ginormous sleek boat waited further out in the water, not docked like the others. It had to be at least seven decks tall and so large it looked like it’d eaten all the other smaller boats around us. I was amazed it could even stay afloat.
“Wow,” I breathed, struggling for words through my awe. I’d never seen anything like it. The Valencia was written in a huge elegant script near the back. “… That is one fancy-ass boat.”
Cade only chuckled again and leaned closer until the woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with the salt air. “Don’t let the captain hear you call it a boat.”
I was still gaping when a black helicopter approached the ship and landed one level down from the topmost deck.
… It even had a helipad?
I was officially out of my depth. A fish out of water. A fraud.
Cade grunted softly behind me.
“My show-off of a brother can never resist a dramatic entrance,” he muttered, though he sounded more affectionate than annoyed.
But my stomach did a huge somersault. I tightened my grip on my backpack straps and spun to Cade. “Will we need to ride in the helicopter, too? I’m not so good with heights. They’re listed in my cuddler profile under my biggest fears.”
A snort came from the direction of the boat—sounding suspiciously like Mac.
“First off, no more mentioning your profile,” Cade said. “Second, we’re taking this tender out to the yacht. No helicopter. Let’s go.”
Relief made my footing unsteady, but I followed Cade onto the boat.
We’d barely pulled away from the dock when he held out a hand. “Before I forget, you’ll need this.”
He dropped something small and shiny into my palm. When I realized what it was, I almost dropped it out of shock.
An engagement ring.
The diamond was so big and sparkly, I couldn’t stop staring at it.
“Put it on,” Cade suggested, though with his low voice, it sounded more like an order.
Still gaping, I carefully slid the smooth gold band onto my left ring finger.
“Wow.” I shifted my hand, admiring the ring from different angles. I had no clue about things like what cut it was or how many carats, but it was definitely the most elegant and beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life. “That’s a really convincing fake diamond. Nate did good.”
I looked up just as bemusement flashed across Cade’s face. “It’s not fake.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in, then my jaw dropped. “… You bought a real ring? Why would you do that?”
“This needs to be convincing.” He nodded toward the boat. “The people on that yacht can spot a fake from a mile away.”
“But—I—” Panic made speaking difficult, and I swallowed, staring back down at the diamond with wide eyes. “What if it falls off my finger? Or I misplace it? It looks really expensive, and I don’t have a great track record with jewelry.”
He shrugged, completely unconcerned. “It’s insured. Does it fit?”
The ring felt like it weighed a million more pounds than it had a second ago, and I wanted to take it off before I did something stupid like accidentally fling it across the boat when I waved my hand, but I couldn’t lie. It fit…
“Perfectly,” I whispered, fiddling with the band.
A little too perfectly.
I swallowed, unable to stop staring at it.
Before I knew it, we were slowing as we reached the yacht, and Cade’s shoulders straightened.
“Showtime,” he murmured, and I watched in fascination as any hint of his earlier bemusement left him, replaced by something harder. Untouchable. His gaze flicked down to me. “You ready?”
If he’d asked me that same question five minutes ago, I would’ve answered with an enthusiastic and resounding yes.
Instead, I swallowed and nodded mutely as butterflies took flight in my stomach. The ring pulled my attention back, and it hit me all at once how serious our deal was. Cade might’ve called it roleplay, but I was about to spend a week pretending to be in love with him.
And the weight of the very real diamond on my finger suddenly made this feel a lot less like pretend.