Chapter 13 #2
“Now it is,” I murmur, my voice still low, a protective edge lacing every word.
And I mean it. Because I’ll be damned if I let anything—or anyone—ruin tonight, especially not some bottom-feeding photographer with no sense of boundaries.
My hand stays curled protectively around Charli’s shoulder, anchoring her close, like a silent promise that I’ve got her—no matter what.
After dinner, as we step out into the warm Nassau evening, Ian gives me a look I know too well—the one that signals a change of plans.
“We’re flying out tonight,” he says, slipping his arm around Mia’s waist. “Early meeting back in Hibiscus Harbor tomorrow morning. I can’t miss.
We’ll let the lovebirds take the yacht.”
“Already trying to get rid of us?” I joke.
“Just making room for all the sparks you two keep throwing off,” Ian says, his grin wide as he jabs me lightly in the ribs with his elbow.
His tone is light, teasing, but there’s that telltale twinkle in his eye—the one that says he’s filing away every detail for later ammunition.
He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head like he’s both amused and slightly impressed.
“You better watch it, man. With the way you’re looking at her, people are gonna start planning a wedding. ”
We laugh, trade hugs, and Mia wraps Charli in a warm squeeze, whispering something that makes her laugh and blush at the same time.
I catch the flicker of surprise on Charli’s face, followed by a wide-eyed smile that lingers even after Mia pulls back.
Whatever Mia said clearly caught her off guard—in a good way.
I make a mental note to ask about it later, curiosity already tugging at the edges of my thoughts.
Was it a joke? A warning? A promise? Whatever it was, it left a flush in Charli’s cheeks that I can’t stop staring at.
Ian turns to me, his usual smirk in place, but his eyes are softer than usual.
He claps me on the shoulder, then lets his hand linger for a second.
"Be good," he says, his voice quiet but firm, then leans in slightly, eyebrows raised. "And don’t forget—don’t fuck this up.
" There's a teasing lilt to the words, but underneath it is something steadier, heavier—like he’s trusting me with something important.
With a final wave, they disappear into the waiting car, leaving Charli and me standing on the curb, the night humming quietly around us.
As we walk hand in hand back toward The Marigold, Charli glances up at me. “Today was kind of... perfect,” she says, her voice soft but brimming with contentment. “Even the part where I was terrified five-hundred feet in the air.”
I laugh, squeezing her hand gently, my thumb brushing against her knuckles. “You were amazing out there. I’m seriously proud of you. Facing your fear like that? That takes guts, Charli.”
"I'm pretty proud of myself, too," she says, her smile lingering as she looks out toward the water, then back at me.
"I still can’t believe I actually did it—and liked it.
That view? Those dolphins? It was like something out of a dream.
" She laughs softly, a little dazed, then shakes her head.
"I mean, I was this close to chickening out. But you were right. If I hadn’t done it, I would've regretted it.
So yeah... proud feels pretty damn good right now. "
The dock is quiet when we arrive at the yacht, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the hull echoing beneath the stars.
I help her aboard, then pull her close once we’re on deck.
Her hands rest lightly on my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt like she doesn’t want to let go.
I dip my head and kiss her—slow, deep, meaningful.
She hums softly into the kiss, and when I pull back just enough to look at her, her eyes are slightly glazed, her smile dreamy. “You always kiss me like you mean it,” she whispers.
“I do,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her cheek.
She starts to say something, maybe a deflection, maybe an excuse—but I cut her off with another kiss, gentler this time. Then I pull back with a playful grin. “Come on. Let’s get inside before I change my mind and take you right here on the deck.”
When I start to guide her inside, she laughs breathlessly, pulling back just a little, eyes sparkling. “Where are we going?” she asks, tilting her head like she already half-suspects the answer but wants to hear me say it.
I just grin, the kind of grin that promises trouble—or something better. "You'll see," I murmur, giving her hand a gentle tug.
She mock-gasps, feigning scandal. "You’re being very mysterious for a man with a yacht."
"It’s part of the charm," I say, leading her toward the door with deliberate slowness. "But trust me, you’re going to like where we end up."
I say nothing more and just take her hand again, walk her down the narrow hallway, and open the door.
Her eyes go wide. “You have a bedroom on your yacht?”
I grin. “Charli, I'm a billionaire. Of course I do.”