Chapter 17 – Katie
Seventeen
PRESENT DAY
KATIE
Three Days Later
Michelle and Chris had picked the absolute worst activities for their “Best Activities Ever” list. While the bridesmaids and groomsmen were drunkenly floating between “Wine and Beach Painting,” “Shallow Water Sailing,” and “Tropical Bird Watching,” I was spending the mornings pacing my balcony alone.
Madison and my team had signed some type of mutiny because they refused to “hang out” with me outside of wedding work, and I knew better than to ask Michelle to take time away from Chris.
Especially given this might be their last time together…
The only person I could talk to was Asher, and he seemed to be on Team Don’t Talk to Katie, too.
Did I do something?
Tappity—Tappity-Tap!
Someone suddenly knocked on my door.
Grateful for any type of interaction, I rushed to open it and found myself face to face with Asher’s assistant.
“It’s another wonderful day in paradise, isn’t it, Katie?”
“I guess…” I ushered her inside. “Are you having fun?”
“Tons! Asher and I just took a tour of the resort and went sailing. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“He took a tour with you?”
She nodded. “I’ll go on one with you, if you’re up to it later.”
“Are you sharing a room with him while you’re here?”
“Uh, no…I have my own suite.”
“Me too.”
“I noticed.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Asher didn’t answer me when I asked him about having a plus-one,” I said. “Does he have one?”
“You two are literally impossible.” She shook her head. “No wonder everyone has decided to—” She didn’t finish her sentence.
“Anyway—” she pulled a notebook from her purse and handed it to me. “Here’s your copy of the mission folder. Please destroy it after reading.”
“Mission folder?” I flipped to the first page and saw a table of contents.
Core objective. Minor objectives. Target research. Operation details.
“Asher makes you write a booklet for every wedding you ruin?”
“Only because I type way faster than he does,” she said. “He used to do all this until about two years ago, but I’m too obsessed to let go now.”
I blinked.
She didn’t catch my tone at all.
“My favorite part is the target research.” She beamed. “It makes me feel like a private investigator.”
I flipped to the “target research” tab, finding pictures of Michelle’s social media posts from years ago, pictures of her walking alone in Manhattan. There were a few shots of her kissing Chris in Central Park.
“Is there a point to me continuing to work on this wedding?” I sighed, shutting the book. “Like, seeing as though I’m also working to make sure it never happens?”
“Of course there’s a point, Miss Elizabeth.” She smiled. “Based on my ongoing monthly research on you, working on weddings is what makes you happy since you still lack a fulfilling social and personal life. Well, unless you count that guy you meet up with every few months for coffee.”
What did she just say?
“You should give your work your all as always,” she continued. “Guests will still snap pictures of all your decor, and Michelle still has time to change her mind. The events still need to be pretty if everything stays on schedule.”
“Can you back up to the part where you do monthly research on me?” I asked. “Why do you need to do that?”
“Um…” Her cheeks reddened. “The dress you’re wearing today is really pretty. Not many people can pull off pastel pink.”
“Answer my question, Kelsey,” I said. “Why are you researching me?”
“I suggest you read that folder by tonight so you and Asher can be on the same page for tomorrow’s first activity.”
“So, Asher makes you look into me?” I refused to let it go. “How long has this been going on?”
“Oh wow!” She stepped back. “Look at the time! I didn’t realize it was so late in the day.”
“It’s eleven o’clock in the morning, Kelsey.”
“It feels like midnight.”
“It isn’t.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Answer my question.”
“Okay, uh, well…” She blinked so rapidly that I thought her eyelashes would fall off.
Without uttering another word, she grabbed her bag and rushed away.
* * *
In the morning, I headed to a private boat pier as the folder suggested.
“Hello?” I stepped onto the dock. “Hello?”
“I’m over here.” Asher called out from a white sailboat.
I followed his voice and stopped when I saw him.
He was already dressed for the water—swim trunks hanging low on his hips, his skin still damp from earlier.
I suddenly felt very aware of my own bikini.
He was straddling a seat and tying a rope, his muscles flexing as he wrapped the twine around his fingers.
“Get on the damn boat, Katie.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “We’re running late.”
“For what?”
“I arranged for them to go on a private boat tour,” he said. “We’ll need to watch and listen from a distance to see if I can exploit anything for a breakup.”
“Is it really that serious?”
He looked at me like I’d grown two heads. Then he reached for my hands and helped me climb aboard.
He motioned for me to sit on a seat near the front, and he settled behind the helm.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
The boat cut smoothly across the water, the wind tugging at my hair, the sun settling warm against my skin.
It almost felt…normal.
Until I remembered why we were out here.
After cruising for miles, he finally stopped when we reached a cluster of rocks.
He idled the engine and moved down to the floor.
“Come down here with me,” he said.
“Why?”
I climbed down, and before I could steady myself, he pulled me down on top of him.
I landed half sprawled across him—my knees braced on either side of his hips, my chest pressed to his, my hands scrambling for balance as the boat rocked beneath us.
“Michelle has her binoculars out, too,” he said. “You don’t want them seeing us.”
“They’re probably about to have sex,” I said. “Are we going to listen in on that, too?”
“No, but it might be good for you.” He eyed my lips. “You might learn something useful.”
Before I could respond, Asher hit a switch and suddenly Chris and Michelle’s voices were coming through our speakers.
“Are you sure we’re not rushing things?” Michelle asked. “Like, you actually want to be with me for the rest of your life?”
“I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t,” Chris said. “Are you doubting things?”
Asher narrowed his eyes, waiting.
“Not at all,” Michelle said. “I’ve never been more confident about anything, and I can’t wait to marry you.”
The soft sound of them kissing came next, and Asher turned off the dial.
“It doesn’t sound like Michelle’s serious about cancelling this wedding.” Asher looked into my eyes as I lay against his chest.
“She texted me this morning about it,” I said. “She has doubts…”
“Hmmm.” He held back a sigh. “We should go with a less invasive approach to be sure then.”
“Like talking to them?”
“No, like staging something to see what happens,” he said.
“Okay, that sounds like something you would do, so go ahead.”
“You should drink before our tasks tomorrow,” he said. “You’re a bit too wound up.”
“I’m on edge because I feel like no one here is talking to me.”
“I’m talking to you.”
“People who actually like me.”
“Kelsey likes you.”
“People who like me and don’t stalk me every month.”
“Fair enough…”
We fell into an awkward silence.
The waves sloshing against the boat were the only sound between us for several minutes.
He tugged at the string of my bikini bottom, and then he sighed. “I need you to get the fuck off me, Katie. My restraint only goes so far.”
“Noted.” I tried to lift myself up, but I couldn’t.
I braced my hands against his chest, but the string of my top was caught on something solid behind me.
Of course it was.
I tugged at it, moving my hips to force it free, but it did nothing, and the more I moved, the more I felt Asher’s cock stiffening through his swim trunks.
“My top is caught on something,” I said to him. “Do you see what it is?”
“You’re kind of blocking my entire view…”
“Do you have scissors on here?”
“I do.” He smirked. “Whenever you decide to get up and stop teasing me, you can grab them from the toolbox over there.”
“You think I’m doing this on purpose?” I tried to yank myself free again, but it was to no avail. “Like I planned to get stuck on you?”
“Stop fighting it,” he said, voice lower now. “You’re making it worse.”
“I’m not—”
“You are.” His hands slid to my hips, steadying me. “Relax.”
I took a breath.
Didn’t move. Didn’t argue.
His gaze dropped.
Not briefly. Not accidentally.
He looked at me like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he should have.
“Still going to pretend you don’t want this?” he murmured.
I didn’t answer.
My silence said everything.
I pressed my hand over his eyes. Then I pulled the right side of my bikini toward my head.
The string caught again.
“Just take off the damn top, Katie,” he said.
“In front of you?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “I can assure you I’ve seen tits before.”
“Not mine…” I wobbled as a wave crashed against our boat. “Close your eyes.”
“No.”
“Well, then we’ll just stay here like this until you do.”
“Only one of us has a problem with that.” He grinned. “I’ll wait.”
Ugh…
I pulled again, and the fabric shifted.
My right breast slipped free.
A sharp breath caught in my throat.
His eyes were already there, but I didn’t push him away.
He leaned forward—slow and deliberate.
His mouth closed around my nipple, his tongue flicking against it in a way that made my head tip back before I could stop it.
My lips parted and my fingers tightened against his shoulders.
He didn’t rush it.
Didn’t stop.
Just watched me—felt me—as I gave in.
I breathed slowly, every nerve in my body lighting up as he dragged the moment out, making me feel every second of it.
“Do you feel calmer now?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He reached behind me and yanked the string free, revealing its culprit—a floorboard.
Then he handed me the top.
“You don’t have to put it back on if you don’t want to.” He laughed and sat up, moving back to the helm.
I quickly tied it back on and made a mental note that maybe—just maybe—us not hanging out whenever we weren’t doing “this” while we were here was a good thing…