Chapter Eighteen
Noa
“How is Zayn single?” I asked as we were transported by what I could only refer to as a luxury golf cart from the car to the edge of the dock.
Where, I kid you not, two people dressed as nurses waited with wheelchairs.
To take us up to the floating house Zayn had the audacity to call his ‘little trawler.’
“Thinking of trading up?” Caymen asked, shooting me a smirk.
“I mean, he’s handsome, sure, but will he grab me by the throat and call me a good girl? I don’t think so.”
Caymen’s eyes flashed at that and the way he gripped my thigh made me think he had plans on how he wanted to spend our time on the boat.
After some food, coffee, and sleep, I was game.
“I can walk,” Caymen insisted when the male nurse came to his side of the cart.
“I’m under strict orders,” the nurse said, looking apologetic. But also… not. Because if I knew anything about Zayn, it was that he loved to throw money around even on the stupidest shit. So these nurses were probably making a couple grand just to get us onto the damn boat.
“Fine,” Caymen, looking just as tired as I felt, agreed and dropped into the wheelchair.
“So, I forgot to ask,” I said when we were standing on the boat’s deck. “Do you know how to steer a boat?”
“I once got my dad’s friend’s fishing boat back to shore when both of them passed out drunk. But other than that… no. You?”
“I mean, same. Small boats. Nothing like this. So how are we—”
“Good morning!” a too-cheerful man greeted us in an all-white uniform and a sparkling white smile, his golden hair catching the sun. “I’m Charlie. I’m going to get you folks to your location.”
Oh.
Well.
That was disappointing.
I kind of wanted to spend the whole next day or two naked with Caymen. And nobody else.
“Then as soon as you’re settled, I’ll call for a water taxi and leave you two to your vacation.”
“Christ. Zayn’s thought of everything, hasn’t he?”
“Everything is settled. You have nothing to worry about,” Charlie assured us. “You can just get yourselves settled and let me handle the rest.”
“We’ll take you up on that,” Caymen said, wrapping an arm around me to help support me as I hobbled in my boot.
“There are seats on the deck,” Charlie said, waving toward the front of the boat.
“Looks closer than the inside,” I said with a shrug.
Then we hobbled our way to the two small seats at the bow. Behind us, there was a comfy-looking sun pad, but I was worried if I laid down there, I’d pass out and wake up horribly sunburned.
And just like that, we were off, cutting across the water and running away from all our worries.
At least for a little while.
“This was the right choice,” Caymen said when we stopped in the water and Charlie set the anchor down.
“Yeah,” I agreed, leaning my head on his arm.
“You’re all set, folks,” Charlie called when he was done, waving at us.
Then we watched as, I shit you not, a yellow and black painted boat taxi came toward Zayn’s boat.
“This is like something out of a movie,” I said, shaking my head.
“Everything about Zayn’s life seems to be.”
“Have you been on his yacht?”
“Once.”
“Is it as ridiculous as it sounds?”
“Whatever level of ridiculous you’re thinking, double it. Maybe quadruple. There were two hot tubs. Two. Who needs two hot tubs on a boat?”
“Was one filled with champagne?”
“Don’t let Zayn hear you ask that. You’ll give him ideas. You wanna try to tiptoe inside? See what the accommodations are like? And if we have enough food for being trapped out here?”
I hadn’t thought about that.
Nothing about Zayn spoke of practicality. I could easily see the cabinets being full of liquor… and the only thing in the fridge being mixers and fresh limes.
“Let’s do it,” I agreed, even as every single overworked muscle in my body objected to moving. Not to mention my sore feet and busted ankle. That said, Ama had given me a pain pill to take the edge off, so it could be worse. I had a bottle jingling in my pocket with more if either of us needed it.
With way more effort than it should have taken for two reasonably young and fit people, we finally made our way around the deck and down the narrow little steps to the cabin.
“Huh. I didn’t have Zayn pegged for the classic ‘all wood everything’ look. But I like it,” I decided as we stepped into the kitchen/dining/living space with gleaming golden wood.
“Let’s see,” Caymen said as he went behind the little island and pulled open the door to the fridge. “Huh.”
“That bad?” I asked, trying not to focus on my growling stomach.
“No, actually. This thing is full. Looks like takeout and some of those meal things that come premade and you just heat up? But fancier than a microwave dinner.”
“Thank God. I wasn’t going to complain, but I’m starving. Give me something.”
“Looks like the subs are the best option to eat first before the bread gets soggy.”
“And you’re talking and not handing me a sandwich because…”
A little chuckle escaped him at that as he handed me the brown bag.
“Drink? He’s got a little bit of everything.”
“Whatever soda is fine. God, a sub never smelled so good,” I groaned as I peeled back the wrapper just enough to take a big bite.
“Sit your ass down. You’re not supposed to be on that foot.”
“Yes, sir,” I said over a mouthful of food and dropped onto one of the white cushioned chairs.
He shook his head at me, but came over with his sub and drinks.
“Maybe I should add a boat to my retirement plan. This is nice.”
“You have a retirement plan?”
“You don’t?”
“Think joining the club was the only plan I had. Didn’t think beyond that.”
“Well, I mean, that’s a retirement plan in and of itself. You guys seem to make good money. And Huck seems to be the kind of leader who takes care of his people, even if they aren’t actively working anymore.”
“It’s a family,” he agreed. “Which, apparently, means something,” he added with a little self-deprecating laugh.
“You know what family means. Look at how much you’ve sacrificed for Dixon. And how much he looks up to you.”
“Wouldn’t go that far.”
“Because you’re not looking close enough. He totally sees you as his cool older brother.”
“He’s a good kid. Gotten stubborn lately.”
“Gee, wonder where that came from?” I teased.
“Smart ass,” he said, but his eyes were warm.
“Do you think there’s a TV in the bedroom?”
“I’m not entertaining enough for you, huh?”
“I don’t know how I’m going to sleep on the ocean,” I admitted. “Might need the background noise.”
“Pretty sure Zayn would make sure the place has all the luxuries.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Because after we both finished eating, we went in search of the primary bedroom. But, first, we came across a smaller bedroom with two beds. And both those beds? Absolutely covered in bags from stores. Not just your regular stores, either. The designer kind.
“Considering I’m potentially costing him millions of dollars, he’s being really generous.”
“They’re going to find the guns. They’re close now.”
“I hope so,” I agreed, walking over toward one of the bags and reaching in.
“What do you got?”
“Underwear,” I said. “The pretty kind,” I added, flashing a lacy thong at him.
“Not complaining about that.”
“And a bathing suit in this one. Tops, bottoms, even socks.” I couldn’t rifle through the bags fast enough. Did I need all new designer stuff? No. Was it still nice to get them? Absolutely. “Hair care products. Makeup. God, these toothbrushes even look expensive.”
Caymen got similar bags of everything he could possibly need. Not for a few night. For weeks.
“I don’t think I’ve gotten so many new clothes in my whole life as I have in the past two days.”
“Where are we even going to put all this stuff?”
“Right here sounds good,” he said, dropping a pair of shorts back into the bag. “Wanna find the bed?”
“Yes. Just one second,” I said, ripping off my shirt then pushing down my shorts.
“Fuck,” Caymen said, looking both heated and exhausted.
“Don’t worry. I’m too achy for anything fun right now,” I told him.
“Makes me feel like an idiot for saying Thank fuck , but thank fuck.”
I pulled the silky champagne-colored nightgown over my body then followed Caymen out of the spare room.
The primary bedroom was about three steps up from there.
“I feel like this should feel claustrophobic,” I said as we both climbed onto the bed. I hung at the edge, pulling off my boot and taking the brace out of my purse to slip on and tie up. “But this is weirdly cozy.”
“It’s comfortable too,” he said, sliding under the blankets, then holding them up for me to do the same. “And there’s a TV,” he said, passing me a remote from his side of the bed.
“What’s that?” I asked, nodding toward a leather-bound notebook.
“Let’s see,” he said, exhaling hard through his nose. “Looks like a manual. Apparently, we will need to maintain the generator if we want power.”
“That’s what that hum is. Do you know how to do that?”
“Worked with generators before. Not on a boat, though. There are instructions. Seems easy enough. The generator will cut off at nine tonight and run off battery power so the hum doesn’t keep us up.
“There’s also instructions on how to lift the anchor and drive back to land. So that’s something we should both read.”
“After a nap,” I specified as I rolled over and rested my head on his chest.
“Yeah, after that,” he agreed. He put the notebook down and slid his arms around me.
And nothing had ever felt quite so right as listening to his heartbeat, of feeling his fingers drifting through my hair, and having his arm tightly wrapped around me.
It was no surprise that I drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms, confident in the knowledge that we were as safe as it was possible to be.