Chapter 39
DREW
I’d been unemployed for two weeks and it suited me perfectly.
The investment stuff was in early stages.
A few calls with Adrian and Sebastian, some preliminary meetings about portfolio restructuring.
Nothing big. I wasn’t in a big hurry. I could already see how this would give me plenty of work while making everyone a lot more money than I’d ever managed at the store.
After a year of retail schedules and vendor meetings and constant fires to put out, the open calendar felt like freedom.
I rolled over in bed Tuesday morning, grabbed my phone, and texted Kensey before I was fully awake. She stayed the night at her parents’ place last night. Game night or something.
Me: Want to see my yacht? Pack a bag, nothing fancy, overnight.
Kensey: YES. When?
I texted her the address for the marina, then dragged myself out of bed to get ready.
I called the marina to arrange for a crew to prep the boat along with groceries and made it clear they wouldn’t be coming with us.
I’d be driving my own yacht. It wasn’t so big that I couldn’t handle it by myself. Then, I jumped in the shower.
By eleven I was at the marina, watching the crew finish their work.
They’d stocked the galley like I’d requested, checked all the mechanical systems, topped off the fuel.
The yacht gleamed in the morning sun, all white fiberglass and polished chrome.
I’d bought it years ago, right after Kensey moved to New Jersey.
At the time I’d told myself it was a smart investment, something I could use for entertaining clients or impressing business partners.
But the truth was I’d bought it because I was lonely and angry at myself for letting her leave without telling her how I felt.
I used it all the time. It was a great way to get away from things and feel refreshed.
The crew finished and headed off with a wave.
I did a final walkthrough, checking that everything was secured and ready.
Then I settled on the deck with a beer to wait.
I saw a car pull into the parking lot. I watched her get out, overnight bag slung over one shoulder, sunglasses on.
She was wearing cutoff shorts and a loose tank top.
She looked so good it made my chest ache and my dick hard.
She walked down the dock toward me, pushing her sunglasses up. Her eyes swept over the yacht with obvious appreciation. When she reached the boat, she stopped and grinned up at me.
“Permission to come aboard, captain?”
I laughed and extended my hand to help her up. “Granted.”
She stepped onto the deck. I pulled her against me, kissing her properly. She tasted like coffee and mint.
“You weren’t kidding about the yacht,” she said when we broke apart. “This thing is huge.”
“It’s not that big. Wait until you see the inside.”
I gave her the full tour. The main cabin with its wraparound seating and entertainment center.
The galley with full-sized appliances and granite countertops.
The master stateroom with a king bed and en suite bathroom.
The guest cabin that was smaller but still comfortable.
The upper deck with lounge chairs and a wet bar.
She turned to look at me, eyes wide. “This is insane. When did you buy this?”
“Right after you moved to New Jersey.”
Her expression softened. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t elaborate. I didn’t need to. She understood.
“Well.” She set her bag down in the master stateroom. “I’m glad I finally get to see it.”
“Me too.”
I got us out of the marina without incident, navigating through the channel and out into open water.
Kensey settled up front on one of the cushioned seats, her face turned toward the sun.
I watched her from the helm, the way the wind caught her hair, the relaxed set of her shoulders.
This was what I’d imagined when I’d bought the boat.
I think I always imagined it would be Kensey beside me.
Both of us escaping the world for a while.
Once we were far enough out that the coastline was just a hazy line on the horizon, I cut the engine and let us drift. The silence was immediate. Just the gentle lap of water against the hull and the distant cry of seabirds.
I joined Kensey up front, dropping onto the seat beside her. She’d taken off her tank top and was down to her bikini top. I tried not to stare.
“This is amazing,” she said quietly. “I finally understand why you bought a yacht. It’s just us out here. No phones, no people, no obligations. Just ocean.”
“That’s exactly why I bought it.” I stretched my legs out and let the sun warm my face. “I needed a place to escape to. Somewhere I could think without the family or the business or any of it following me.”
“Did it help?”
“Sometimes.” I reached over and took her hand, lacing our fingers together. “But it was always missing something. You weren’t here.”
She squeezed my hand. “I’m here now.”
“You are.”
We sat like that for a long time, just holding hands and listening to the water.
The boat rocked gently beneath us. I felt the tension I’d been carrying for years—hell, maybe my whole adult life—finally start to dissolve.
This was it. This was what I’d been searching for.
Not success or validation or proving myself to the family.
Just this. Kensey beside me, the ocean stretching out in every direction, and nothing but time.
“I could get used to this,” she said eventually.
“Good. Because I’m planning on bringing you out here a lot.”
She turned her head to look at me, shading her eyes with one hand. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I figure we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. Might as well do it somewhere beautiful.”
She smiled, that slow, genuine smile that always made my heart skip. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She stood and walked to the railing, looking out at the water. I watched her, committing the image to memory. Kensey on my boat, sun-kissed and happy and finally mine.
“Come here,” I said, standing and crossing to her.
She turned into my arms easily, pressing herself against me. I kissed her slowly. Her hands slid up my chest to loop around my neck.
“What do you want to do for the rest of the day?” she asked against my mouth.
“This,” I said. “Just this.”
And we did. We spent the afternoon drifting, swimming in the ocean when we got too hot, making love in the master cabin when the need became too much to ignore.
We ate sandwiches from the galley and drank beer and talked about nothing important.
As the sun started to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink and purple, I held her on the upper deck and watched the colors shift and change.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“For what?”
“For this. For giving up your job. For being willing to follow me to New Jersey if that’s what it took. For loving me enough to change your entire life.”
“Kensey, you’re my life. Everything else is just details.”
“Do you miss it?” she asked. “The store?”
I thought about it for a moment. “A little,” I admitted. “I liked building something with the family. Getting it off the ground, proving it could work. That felt good.”
“But?”
“But the day-to-day got tedious. It was important work, but it wasn’t my work, you know?” I pulled her closer. “Unemployment is a lot better when you have someone to be unemployed with.”
She laughed and kissed my shoulder. “We’re quite the pair. Two unemployed adults floating around on a yacht like we don’t have a care in the world.”
“We don’t. Not today, anyway.”
She disappeared below deck. By the time she returned, the sky was black and glittering with stars. She’d changed into a sundress, her hair still damp and pulled back loosely. She carried two cold beers and a bag of chips.
“For you,” she said, handing me one.
“Perfect.”
We settled into the lounge chairs on the upper deck, our chairs pulled close enough that I could reach over and take her hand.
“I could stay out here forever,” she murmured.
“We have time now,” I said. “All the time in the world.”
My mind drifted back to the beginning. To a seating chart arranged alphabetically.
Blackwell, Blake. I’d walked into class that first day and seen her sitting there in the desk next to mine.
The new girl. She’d looked nervous, her hands folded on her desk, her eyes darting around like she was looking for an escape route.
I’d had no idea what I was doing when I’d leaned over and introduced myself. No grand plan. No ulterior motive. She just looked like she needed a friend, and I figured I could help with that.
Turned out that was the best decision I ever made.