Chapter Twenty-Four
Victory
Wells doesn’t have a boat. He has a small yacht, and he looks supremely comfortable piloting it out of the harbor, as if he goes boating every day.
His thick hair lifts in the breeze, his sunglasses hiding his eyes.
His eyes have become one of my favorite things about him.
They say so much more than words ever could.
Although he is very good with words. The memory of making love in the shower that morning, along with all the dirty things he said, brings a rush of heat.
I look back at the marina, taking in the boats and wooden buildings, his restaurant anchoring the harbor with its rustic charm and dockside service.
It’s an impressive establishment, and I loved seeing it through Wells’s eyes as he showed me around, and meeting his work family.
It was easy to see his kindness was genuine as he joked with the staff and took the time to talk with them.
He knew a lot about their lives and made a point to ask about them—family, friends, an outing they’d gone on.
I turn my attention back to the big-hearted man who brought his mother flowers and played prince for his sister, and I can’t imagine him not being genuine in anything he does. Yet I know he had to pretend as a child, and now I understand just how hard that must have been for him.
“You have quite a life here, Mr. Silver.” I lean against his side and kiss his shoulder.
He’s wearing a gray tank top and shorts, and his skin is warm from the sun.
“You fully embraced Olivier’s advice and built a life you wouldn’t need a vacation from.
Thank you for taking the time to share it with me.
” We have the whole weekend ahead of us, and I’m already wishing we had more time.
“I’ve been wanting to share it with you for weeks.”
We chat as the harbor disappears behind us, and Wells tells me about each of the boroughs on the island.
Ritzy Silver Haven, where he grew up; artistic Chaffee, which doesn’t allow cars; and the old-school New England fishing towns, Rock Harbor, where his restaurant is located, and Seaport, where Wells has been going for community breakfasts since he was a little boy.
“The next community breakfast is in two weeks,” he says. “Would you like to come back and go with me?”
“I would love to.” Something happened when I shared my secrets with him. It’s like every word I said carried some of that bottled-up guilt, depleting me of it. Clearing a path for a new beginning. “What’s our plan for today?”
“I thought we’d get some sun while we boat around the island and then stop in Chaffee to find you an outfit for the wedding. We can have dinner there, and after the bonfire, we’ll anchor the boat in Lover’s Cove for the night.”
Lover’s Cove. “Sounds like a perfect day to me.”
He wraps his arms around me. “How are you feeling about being here? Any guilt or anxiety?”
“No. Getting those secrets out was cathartic. I like being here with you.”
“Good. If it creeps up, don’t keep it to yourself, okay?”
“I definitely won’t.” Not when I know I can talk to you about anything.
He presses his lips to mine, and as he checks our course, I look back at the island, taking in the colorful cottages decorating the lush landscape and the few houses on the bluff, and a sense of peace overtakes me.
“I can see Silver Monument and the flag at the Steeles’ winery.
I went to see them with my family over the holidays. ”
“I got my first kiss at the top of that monument.”
“Oh yeah? Was it with Peppermint Patty?”
“As a matter of fact, it was her, but I wish it was you.” He pats my butt. “Why don’t you go down to the cabin and put your bathing suit on? You can get some sun on the way to Chaffee for our Thursday Trekabout. My bedroom is at the end of the hall.”
I’m still stuck on him wishing his first kiss was with me.
I wish he were my first kiss, too. I have a twinge of guilt for never having wished that about Harvey, but it doesn’t last. Our relationship was so different from the one Wells and I have.
It wasn’t threaded with those types of wishes or dreams. We lived in the moment, for that moment.
It’s funny how I hadn’t really thought about that until now.
“Okay,” I finally say, and kiss his shoulder before grabbing my shopping bag, and heading down to the spacious main level, which has two sundecks and a covered lounge area.
I descend the steps to the cabin, and like Wells’s home, it feels comfortable even though it’s luxurious, with a kitchen, dining area, and another lounge, all decorated with the same warm, beachy vibe.
I pass a bedroom on the way down the hall before I get to the master bedroom.
It’s gorgeous, with wooden drawers beneath the windows and tall cabinets with mirrored doors along the interior wall, facing a large bed.
There’s a door beside the tall cabinets, which must be the bathroom.
I open it, and something falls at my face.
I swat at it and turn away, dropping my bag.
My heart is racing as I turn to see what it was.
What the hell?
Lying on the floor is a blow-up sex doll with an open mouth, big boobs, complete with pink nipples and a spreader bar holding its legs apart with leather cuffs around its ankles. My gaze moves south. Yup . There’s a fuck-me hole. What the hell is he into?
I look in the closet I just opened, and there’s another blow-up doll, only this one is on its knees, with its arms handcuffed behind its back. On the shelf above it is some sort of rubber vagina that is far too anatomically correct.
I stumble back to sit on the bed, and my foot hits something.
I peer down, and I’m relieved to see it’s just a belt.
I pick it up, but it’s tethered to something under the mattress.
I flip up the covers and see that it’s attached to something securing it under the mattress, and unless Wells has friends with four-inch waists, it’s not a freaking belt. It’s an open leather cuff.
My mind races as I lift the cover at the head of the bed and find another one.
I hurry around the other side. Sure enough, there are restraints there, too.
Fitz’s voice tramples through my mind. He’s got a long history of being a freak in the sheets.
I thought he was kidding. Not that there’s anything wrong with this stuff, but I don’t want to be with a guy who gets off on sex dolls and rubber vaginas when he has the real thing right here.
With my heart in my throat, I start opening drawers to see what else he has. I find dildoes, strap-ons— is he into being pegged? —a ball gag, a whip, a box of vibrating panties, butt plugs, and a plethora of other sex toys.
I open the bedside drawer and find nipple clamps, lube, some kind of leather harness, and…
What the…? Something gold and a small colorful feather are sticking out of a metal box in the back of the drawer.
Nonono. Please no. I pull out the box with trembling hands and lift the lid.
My stomach plummets at the sight of several pairs of earrings.
I can’t think. I can barely breathe as I put the box back in the drawer, quickly fix the blanket, and shove the sex doll back into the closet.
I look at my shaky hands, wanting to wash them, but there’s no way I’m opening another door.
Fuckfuckfuck . I’ve got to get out of here.
I grab my bag and take several deep breaths, mentally replaying our time together, looking for clues I might have missed about this side of him.
He did get off on my taking control. The strap-on is starting to make sense.
I feel like a fool. I was so honest with him, and he’s been hiding this?
My chest aches with that reality. Forcing myself to push past the heartache, I draw my shoulders back, give myself a pep talk, and head upstairs.
“Find everything okay?” Wells asks as I join him on the top deck.
Maintaining a brave face while looking at him is a test of strength. “I think this was a mistake. You need to take me home.”
“What? Why? Are you getting seasick?”
“No. I think we’re just into different things.”
“What are you talking about?”
Fuck it. “I found your sex toys, Wells. Not that there’s anything wrong with toys, but sex dolls are not my thing, and I can’t believe you kept this whole side of yourself hidden from me.”
“What are you talking about?” He reaches for me.
I step back and hold my hands up, too confused to keep the accusations from flying. “Don’t try to play me. I found the earrings—”
“Earrings?” he asks with disbelief.
“I thought the guys were just teasing. But I guess the joke’s on me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to end up at the bottom of this ocean.” Oh my God. I sound like a crazy person.
“Okay, stop right there. I see what’s going on. Do you really think I’m capable of killing someone?”
“ No! But what do I know? I’ve seen true crime shows, and it’s always the perfect partner who slaughters the unsuspecting one.”
“Jesus, Vic. I swear to you, this is bullshit. Those assholes are pranking us.” He cuts the engine. “That explains why they were all at the marina. Helping Brant with a boat, my ass.”
“What are you doing?”
“Going downstairs to see what the fuck they’ve done. Are you coming?” His dark eyes bore into me.
“ Yes , but I swear, if you feed me to the fish, I will haunt you every minute of the day and night.”
“You’re safe, but I can’t say the same for the guys who did this.” We head down to the cabin, and when we get to his bedroom, he looks around and throws his hands up. “Where is it?”
I point to the cabinet. “Be careful, one of them jumped out at me.”
He opens the cabinet, and the doll tumbles out.
He swats it away. “I’m going to kill those fuckers.
” He surveys the other items in the cabinet, and I can tell it’s the first time he’s seeing them.
“What the hell is…?” He reaches for the rubber vagina.
His eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“There’s more.” I point to each of the drawers where I found paraphernalia, and as he looks in each one, his jaw clenches tighter. I show him the restraints on the bed, and then he opens the bedside drawer and finds the earrings.
He stares at them like they’re the enemy, looking like he’s going to blow his top. “ None of this is mine.”
“I know that now. I’m sorry I thought otherwise. I was just on such a high today, and then that doll attacked me and I saw all that stuff, and the earrings, and—”
“Hey.” His voice softens. “I don’t blame you. If I were in your shoes and I saw a rubber vagina and got attacked by a sex doll, I’d wonder, too.”
I laugh, thankful he’s not mad at me for being foolish enough to fall for their prank. He draws me into his arms, and I wind mine around him, feeling the tension drain from both of us.
“I’ve got to give them credit,” he says. “The bastards went all in.”
“Then so will we . We can’t let them win.”
He cocks a brow. “You want to get revenge?”
“Hell yes. If I learned anything growing up with rabble-rousing brothers, it’s never let them get the upper hand.”
“I like the way you think, sweet thing, and don’t worry, I’ll get rid of this stuff.”
“Don’t be too hasty. Now that I know you’re not a killer, there are a few things that could be fun, like the vibrating panties and the bed restraints.”
Wickedness flares in his eyes. “You at my mercy is a delicious thought.”
“I was thinking it would be the other way around,” I say with as much innocence as I can muster.
He slides his hand down my back to my ass. “Does my secret dominatrix want to come out to play?”
“I guess you’ll find out at some point,” I tease. “I’m going to let that idea muddle your mind for a while, because you promised me an island tour.” I go up on my toes and kiss him, then head out of the bedroom before I cave and tear his clothes off.