Chapter 10 Operation Sunset Surprise
Operation Sunset Surprise
The salty breeze had it out for me, whipping my dress around like it was auditioning for a shampoo commercial. I clutched the fabric down, trying to look graceful beside Matt, who somehow managed to make walking down a concrete dock look like a goddamn runway show.
"Okay, seriously," I said, fighting another gust that threatened to give the entire marina a show, "what are we doing here? Because if you're planning to push me off this dock…"
Matt's laugh was low and dangerous. "Would I do that on a first date?"
"I don't know. Maybe you're into that kinky shit."
He stopped walking so suddenly that I nearly crashed into him. The scent of his cologne hit me like a freight train of bad decisions.
Turning to me, his eyes widened.
"What?" I lifted one shoulder. "We listen and we don't judge." He laughed. "I don't kink shame. Well, unless you're actually going to kill me, then I'm totally judging you."
"Trust me," his voice dropped to a rumble, "when I'm ready to get you wet, it won't be with seawater."
My brain short-circuited. Heat flooded my cheeks, traveled down my neck, and pooled somewhere much lower. "I, what, did you just…"
"Sunset dinner cruise," he continued smoothly like he hadn't just made my ovaries explode with a single sentence. "Unless you'd prefer the wet thing."
I loved sunsets, but I one-hundred percent preferred the wet thing. Our relationship had just graduated from flirtatiously playful to dirty talk, and I wasn't mad about it.
"So is it like one of those fancy cruises where you eat and then go up to watch the sunset?" I'd watched those yachts leave the bay several nights a week.
"Kind of." My brows pulled together, and the corner of his lip lifted with amusement. "We are taking a private yacht."
"A private yacht," I repeated. "Like, I mean, is it your yacht?"
He chuckled. "No, it's a friend's boat. He does this rental thing with it, and it was available tonight, so he's loaning it to me."
My face split into a grin as my hands clapped together under my chin, and I practically started skipping.
"Someone seems excited," he smiled. I nodded. "Oh, thank God. I thought this might be over the top for a first date?"
I shook my head. "No. It's my idea of a perfect date." His chest puffed out a little with pride. "I love boating and I love sunsets and…" I paused for a moment, wondering if I should admit to him how long I'd wanted to take a dinner cruise.
"And?"
"And when I go to the beach right down from my apartment to watch the sunset, I always see the dinner cruises leaving, and… and I always wanted to go on one."
We approached what could only be described as a floating palace. A 137-foot yacht that probably cost more than my entire bloodline would ever see, and my dad was a pretty successful lawyer with his own firm.
"Holy shit." My jaw dropped as I took in the yacht's size. "This is your friend's boat?"
As if summoned, a small army of crew members in crisp white uniforms appeared, led by a distinguished older man who looked like he'd sailed out of a luxury magazine.
"Mr. Strickland," the captain greeted Matt with the kind of respect usually reserved for royalty or drug lords. "I'm Captain Rockford, and this is your service team: Kaylin, Whitney, and our award-winning chef, Gabriel."
I accepted a champagne flute from Kaylin.
"If you two want to follow Kaylin," Captain Rockford gestured toward the petite brunette. "She'll escort you to your table, and I will get us off the dock."
"I’ve prepared a five-course meal based on your preferences for dinner," Chef Gabriel announced in an accent so French it should come with subtitles.
"Preferences?" I whispered to Matt as we followed Kaylin onto the yacht. "You gave them my preferences?"
He flashed me a wicked smile that made my stomach flutter.
The tour was a blur of marble and mahogany, but I couldn't focus on anything except the way Matt's hand kept finding the small of my back, guiding me through doorways, his touch burning through the thin fabric of my dress.
We ended up on the back deck at a table that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale, candles, roses, linen napkins that probably cost more than my rent.
"Matt," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "this is…" There wasn't a word strong enough to describe how perfectly beautiful this was.
"Yeah," he sighed like he understood exactly what I was saying.
"Dinner will be served in about thirty minutes." Kaylin nodded toward the starboard side of the boat. "If you two want to enjoy the view as we disembark, I will let you know when dinner is ready."
"That sounds perfect." Matt smiled politely.
"Can I bring you a drink?" She dropped her hand and clasped them together in front of her. "Maybe a glass of wine, beer, mixed drink, or another glass of champagne?"
"We'll have two glasses of champagne," Matt said.
She disappeared, and Matt and I strolled to the starboard side. I gripped the railing as the yacht eased away from the dock, needing something solid to hold onto as the shore shrank.
Matt moved closer. Not touching, but close enough that I caught his scent when the wind shifted.
"Second thoughts?" His hands curled around the railing.
"About being trapped on a boat with a potential serial killer?" I glanced at him sideways. "Nah."
He laughed, stepping even closer. His arm brushed mine as he leaned against the railing.
Soft music played in the background as the ocean breeze wrapped around us. We still had about an hour before the sun completely disappeared.
"I cannot believe you did all of this," warmth spread through my chest, "for me."
"So you're impressed then?" His eyebrows danced, and I couldn't help but laugh. "I'll take that as a yes."
Whitney appeared carrying a tray with two champagne flutes. "Kaylin is bringing out hors d'oeuvres to snack on until dinner is ready. Is there anything else I can get you?"
"No," Matt said. "Thank you."
Whitney disappeared as Kaylin brought out a tray of various hors d'oeuvres, setting it on a tall table beside us.
"This is so fancy," I chuckled, scanning the tray. We both grabbed one of the small stuffed mushrooms. "It all looks so good."
"I hope you like the food," Matt said. "I really wanted to surprise you, so I had to pick all the food options."
I smiled. "Well, I don't have any allergies and I'm not a picky eater."
There was a long, silent pause, as if neither of us knew what to say next.
Matt fidgeted with his champagne glass. "Is it weird that I Googled first date conversation starters before picking you up?"
I nearly choked on my drink. "Please tell me you didn't memorize a list."
"Only the top ten." His grin was sheepish.
"So how does this dating thing work? I haven't been on a first date in years."
"Yeah, me neither." He swirled his champagne. "I think there's supposed to be small talk. Weather's nice."
"Gorgeous evening for potential murder." I gestured toward the sunset.
He nearly choked. "Are we back to that?"
"I'm just saying, if this goes badly, you've already got me on a boat. Very convenient."
"And if it goes well?"
"Then I guess you're stuck with someone who thinks every romantic gesture is a potential crime scene."
"Fair warning… I find that weirdly attractive." His gaze held mine.
"Are you going to ask me to share my spirit animal next?"
"Only if dinner goes really badly."
"What's your backup plan if I say my spirit animal is a porcupine?"
He pretended to consider this seriously, tilting his head. "Jump overboard, probably."
I snorted champagne. While trying not to die from embarrassment, I noticed he was watching me with this expression, like my graceless moment was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.
"Sexy." I fought to catch my breath while dabbing champagne from my chin.
"Very." His voice was completely sincere.
Something fluttered in my chest—dangerous territory.
"I think we are supposed to get to know each other. See if we vibe."
"Vibe?" I laughed out loud.
"Yeah," he blushed. "My little brother taught me that term."
"You have a little brother?"
"Yes, I mean, n…" he started. He shook his head like I'd confused him.
"Yes, I do have a younger brother, but he's not who I'm talking about.
I'm part of the Big Brother program. His name is Marcus and he's twelve.
We hang out sometimes, and I check in on him.
He calls if he needs anything. He's a pretty cool kid who was dealt a pretty shitty hand in life. "
I stared for a long moment. "What?"
"So I may have…" I set down my glass, suddenly fascinated by the tablecloth. "I might have looked you up online."
"Might have?"
"Okay, fine. I full-on internet stalked you. Happy?"
His laugh was rich and warm. "What's the verdict?"
"Disappointingly perfect. It's annoying." I smirked. "You run a charity that helps kids set and achieve their goals. You do more than a hundred Make-A-Wish requests a year, and you donate thousands of dollars a year to various organizations and charities."
"Trust me, I'm not perfect. I feel so lucky to have everything I have, which is more than I could ever need, and I like to give back."
Kaylin appeared, announcing dinner was ready.
We ate slowly, the way people do when they aren't hungry for food so much as each other's company.
The conversation dipped between playful teasing and quiet moments, the kind of silences that felt full rather than empty.
We talked about our families, our interests, and even discussed our exes, and it turned out we had a lot in common.
I caught myself watching him more than once, wondering how I'd gone from someone so selfish, so self-absorbed to… this. To him.
"I didn't think I could do this," I confessed. "Fall for someone again."
Matt reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine. "I didn't think I'd want to make someone believe in love again."
"And now?"
He stood, circling the table. He took my hand, pulled me to my feet, and guided me toward the port side of the boat, where the view was nothing but open water and the burning trail of the sun's last light.
"Now I want everything." His arms circled my waist. "I want you."
The yacht rocked gently beneath us, and I looked up. His face was a silhouette framed in gold and tangerine, and for a second, I didn't need anything else. Just this man, this moment, this warmth blooming where fear used to live.
His hands framed my face as he leaned down so that his lips were mere inches from mine. "This was how I pictured our first kiss."
The golden light caught in his dark eyes, and for a heartbeat, we just stood there, two people on the edge of something that felt bigger than both of us.
So I pushed up on my toes and kissed him, soft and sweet at first, like we had all the time in the world.
His lips were warm against mine, moving with a patience that made my knees weak.
When his hand slid around to cup the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair, I sighed into his mouth and let myself fall completely.
The kiss was everything a first kiss should be, tentative and bold, sweet and promising. When we finally broke apart, his thumb traced my bottom lip, and I felt drunk on more than champagne.