17. Duck Anatomy
Chapter 17
Duck Anatomy
Tessa
I stared at the boat—sorry, yacht—with the kind of wide-eyed wonder usually reserved for small children seeing Disney World for the first time. My brain scrambled to process the floating mansion before me, complete with multiple decks.
When Evan had suggested dinner, I’d assumed we were heading to one of the local restaurants in town, not boarding what looked like something out of a billionaire’s playbook. So much for my carefully selected casual but cute outfit.
“A dinner cruise?” The words came out in a squeak, and I internally cringed at how my voice betrayed my nerves. My ability to play it cool was apparently on vacation and had been since I arrived. “This seems... elaborate.” Like showing up to a coffee date in a wedding dress elaborate.
Evan winked and offered me his arm, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Only the best for our new chef.”
As we approached the gangway, Liam glanced at me with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Need help with the stairs?” His limp was barely noticeable now, though I caught the slight hesitation in his step.
“I think you’re the one who needs help.” I offered my arm with a smirk. “Unless you’ve forgotten about your dramatic wipeout already?”
He scoffed, brushing off the comment with a wave of his hand. “Please. That was a tactical fall. I had to get your attention somehow.”
“By nearly breaking your ankle?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
I laughed despite myself, the sound easing some of the tension in my shoulders. This was... nice. Almost normal, if I ignored the fact that I’d seen all three men in various states of undress over the past week.
And now my brain, ever helpful, provided a highlight reel of those moments. Fantastic.
The ma?tre d’ led us to the upper deck, where a table waited in a quiet corner surrounded by windows that offered stunning views of the lake and mountains. The sunset painted everything in soft pinks and golds, and fairy lights twinkled overhead like someone had scattered stars across the ceiling. It was the kind of setting that belonged in a romance novel, not my actual life.
“Wow.” The word escaped me as I took it all in, my voice almost reverent. “This is... wow.” And there went my extensive vocabulary, floating away on the evening breeze.
Evan pulled out my chair, his grin smug but teasing. “You said ‘wow’ twice. I’m taking that as a good sign.”
“It’s beautiful.” I sat down, hyperaware of the three men arranging themselves around me like an impossibly attractive honor guard. “Though I have to ask, do you always take your employees out for fancy dinner cruises, or am I special?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it, my filter very unreliable. I reached for my water glass, needing something to do with my hands before they betrayed me by fidgeting with the tablecloth.
Archer’s eyes met mine over the rim of my glass, his voice quiet and steady, carrying a weight that made my toes curl in my shoes. “You’re definitely special.”
“The most special. Now, who’s ready for drinks? I feel like we could all use some alcohol.” Evan’s tone was casual, but his grin was wide enough to suggest he was enjoying this situation far too much.
“God, yes.” The words slipped out under my breath, drawing chuckles from around the table. At least I wasn’t the only one feeling the need for liquid courage.
We ordered a round of cocktails and enough appetizers to feed a small army. As the drinks arrived—something fruity and pink for me that promised to be both delicious and dangerous, whiskey for Archer, beer for Liam, and a martini for Evan—I felt myself beginning to relax. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way they all seemed to be trying so hard to make me comfortable.
Evan raised his glass, his expression warm and open. “To new beginnings.”
Liam smirked, leaning back in his chair with casual grace. “And to not talking about ducks.”
I groaned and buried my face in my hands, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. “I’m never living that down, am I?”
“Not a chance.” Archer’s voice carried the unmistakable sound of a smile. “Though I have to admit, I learned more about duck anatomy than I ever wanted to know.”
“Hey, that’s valuable information.” I crossed my arms, feigning indignation as the warmth of the banter wrapped around me like a cozy blanket. “You never know when you might need to know about?—”
“Appetizers!” Evan cut in cheerfully, his grin widening as plates appeared in front of us like a culinary rescue mission. “Look at all this food that we’re going to talk about instead of duck genitalia!”
I burst out laughing, unable to hold it in, and soon they joined me—even Archer. The tension that had been hovering over us since the car ride seemed to dissipate. Maybe this wouldn’t be so awkward after all. Though I really needed to work on my filter when I got nervous. Or invent a shock collar that activated whenever I started spouting randomness.
The appetizers disappeared faster than donuts in a breakroom. As our entrées arrived featuring a seafood linguine that had me mentally taking notes, Evan leaned forward, his expression bright with curiosity.
“So, Tessa, tell us about your family. Are they all as... verbally adventurous as you?”
I nearly choked on my second pink drink. “God, no. My mom would die if she heard half the things that come out of my mouth. She’s more of a ‘ladies don’t discuss duck anatomy at dinner’ type.” I cringed, realizing I’d brought up ducks again.
“And you said you live with them, right?” Liam’s tone held no judgment.
“Temporarily. Very temporarily. Just until I figure out my life. Or until my sister’s baby arrives, and Mom transfers all her attention to becoming the world’s most intensive grandmother. Whichever comes first.”
“Is she your only sibling?” Archer asked.
“Yeah, Emma. She’s twenty-seven, married to an accountant named Steve—which is the most accountant name ever—and currently growing what she swears is a future soccer player based on the kicks.” I smiled, thinking of her latest ultrasound photo. “She’s the good daughter who did everything in order: college, marriage, baby. Meanwhile, I’m the thirty-year-old disaster living in my childhood bedroom.”
“Hey, some of us like disasters.” Evan winked, then his expression shifted slightly. “Though I get the family expectations thing. My parents had my whole life mapped out: school, marry someone they approved of, and take over my dad’s real estate firm. When I started my marketing company instead, they...” He took a long sip of his martini. “Let’s just say Christmas cards aren’t exactly flowing between us.”
“Their loss.” Liam reached over to squeeze Evan’s shoulder.
“What about you, Archer?” I was genuinely curious about the man who seemed to wear his suit like armor. “Did your family expect you to become a lawyer?”
Something flickered across his face. “My mom worked three jobs to put me through school. When I got a scholarship to law school, it was like winning the lottery. She cried for an hour.” He straightened his tie, a gesture I was starting to recognize as one of discomfort. “She passed away my second year. Heart attack.”
“I’m so sorry.” I reached for his hand, and he let me take it.
“What about you, Liam?” Evan jumped in, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “How are your moms?”
Liam grinned. “Still trying to set me up with their dental hygienist’s daughter. They’re convinced she’s perfect for me because she, and I quote, ‘also likes snow.’”
We all laughed, and something settled in my chest. Here we were, four people with completely different backgrounds, sharing stories over expensive food on a yacht. It was ridiculous and complicated and probably ill-advised, but somehow it felt... right.
Though I really needed to stop thinking about how right it felt, or I was going to need a third pink drink. What was I thinking? I wasn’t the casual dating and sex type, and now I was tangled up with not one but three men.
The conversation flowed smoothly between us as dinner progressed, making the situation even worse. I knew I needed to emotionally disconnect but found myself already invested in these three men. I just didn’t know where their heads were with the situation.
As I pushed the remains of my chocolate soufflé around my plate, I tried to gather my courage along with the last bits of dessert. The yacht’s gentle rocking and the lights twinkling across the dark water created an almost dreamlike atmosphere, but reality was knocking insistently at the door of my brain like an unwanted guest who’d spotted me through the window and wouldn’t go away.
“So...” I immediately shoved a spoonful of chocolate in my mouth because apparently, I’d rather choke than have this conversation. But it needed to happen. “What exactly is... this?” I gestured vaguely between all of us with my spoon, feeling ridiculously like a conductor leading the world’s most confusing orchestra.
Liam reached under the table and squeezed my knee. His touch was soft but grounding. “This is whatever you want it to be.”
Archer put his spoon down with a soft clink. “I think we need to be clear about what we all want. There are implications to consider. Professional boundaries.”
Evan groaned and threw his head back in exaggerated exasperation, nearly knocking over his drink with his dramatic gesture. “Oh my God, Arch, take the lawyer hat off for five minutes.” He turned to me with a smile that could probably charm birds out of trees and onto his shoulders. “You’re in charge here, Tess. We’re just along for the ride.”
“That’s... sweet? I think? But also kind of concerning because you guys can barely agree on what color to repaint the lobby, and now you’re all suddenly fine with...” My hand cut through the air in a vague wave. “Whatever this is?”
Evan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “The lobby should be sage green.”
“It absolutely should not.” Archer’s response was automatic, like a reflex he couldn’t control, the way I instinctively flinched when people ordered their steaks well done.
My frustration bubbled to the surface like an overheated pot. “See? This is what I’m talking about. If I’m going to... continue... with any of you, I can’t be caught in the middle of your college spat and the three-way custody battle over a hotel.”
Archer’s jaw tightened and his hands folded neatly on the table, forming a perfect triangle with his thumbs. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” I leaned forward, my voice firmer now. I didn’t know if it was because of them or because the past month had strengthened my spine. Maybe a combination of both. “Because right now, you’re all being very gentlemanly and accommodating, but what happens when you disagree about who is going to take me out or who is going to…”
Evan opened his mouth with an unmistakable smirk pulling at his lips. “Who gets to fuck you?” His hands shot up in mock surrender when three sets of eyes glared at him. “Hey, that’s what you were going to say!”
I pressed on, trying to keep my voice steady despite the heat flooding my face. “Look. I like you all. Obviously. Probably more than I should, considering I just got out of a relationship, and you’re technically my bosses. But I’m not going to be the thing that makes your friendship worse than it already is.”
Liam shifted in his seat, the leather creaking beneath him, the tension in his posture speaking volumes. “Our friendship isn’t?—”
“Please.” I cut him off, my cheeks heating to what felt like broiler temperatures. “I’ve seen you argue over the silliest things. The only thing you’ve agreed on in the past week is...” I dropped my gaze to the table, suddenly fascinated by the intricate pattern on the napkin. “Well, me.”
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken words and complicated histories I wasn’t privy to. The lights overhead were suddenly less magical and more like interrogation spotlights, and I had the urge to dive overboard and make a swim for it.
Archer drummed his fingers on the table. “So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that before this goes any further, you three need to figure out if you can handle it, because I’m not interested in being the rope in your tug-of-war game.”
“We should tell her about Evelyn.” Evan cringed as if he’d ripped off the stickiest Band-Aid known to man.
My eyebrows shot up as I looked around the table. “Evelyn?”
Archer pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s the reason we had a falling out.”
Liam cleared his throat. “We were all on a business group project together, and during that time, she found out about our plans with Gavin to open a resort and then eventually a chain of resorts. Gavin had a lot of family money, but since he wasn’t an easy target, she decided to come after me, Arch, and Evan in hopes of attaching herself to at least one of us.”
“We don’t know if she intended for all three of us to fall for it, but we did. We started blaming each other and fighting, and well… things imploded.” Evan shrugged, but I could tell it really bothered him. “Three stubborn assholes.”
My jaw nearly came unhinged. “Wait, you all let a woman come between you? Like, an actual woman managed to destroy your friendship?” My voice hit that high-pitched territory that usually meant I was about to word-vomit everywhere. “Oh God, you probably think I’m another Evelyn. Here I am, living out some crazy fantasy with all of you, which, by the way, was not on my vision board for this year—not that I have a romance or sex vision board; that would be weird, right?”
I grabbed my drink and took a large gulp, but that just seemed to accelerate my rambling. “You know what they say: bros before...” I caught myself just in time, “...various female acquaintances. Which is totally valid! I completely get it. And hey, it’ll be easier once I move into my place above Sweet Cheeks.” I let out a snort-laugh that made me want to crawl under the table. “Which, by the way, is such a funny name for a bakery. Like, whose cheeks are we talking about here? Because context is everything and?—”
“Tessa.” Archer’s voice was firm but gentle, like he was trying to talk down a spooked horse. “You’re nothing like Evelyn.”
“Nothing,” Liam agreed, his hand finding mine under the table. “For one thing, you’re genuine.”
“Oh good, I’m glad I’m so genuine with my profound awkwardness and my inability to keep my clothes on.” I paused, realizing what I’d said. “The point is, I get it if you want to keep your distance. I’m basically a walking crisis waiting to happen.”
Archer leaned forward, his eyes intense. “The difference is, this time we’re all aware of the situation. No secrets.”
“Right.” I nodded, then bit my lip. “So... what exactly are the, um, sharing expectations here? Sharing in the informational sense! Like, do we need a group chat? A Google Calendar? Not sharing in the... other sense. Unless...” I swallowed hard, my voice dropping to a whisper, “unless that’s something you’re into? Because I might be open to... I’ve never... but...”
“Can I get you folks anything else?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the waitress’s voice, knocking over my empty glass in the process. “No! I mean, yes! I mean... water! So much water. All the water. Because I’m clearly dehydrated and that’s why I’m talking about group... activities.”
The waitress looked between the four of us, a knowing smirk playing on her lips as she collected our dessert plates. As she turned to leave, she leaned down and whispered, “Get it, girl,” with an exaggerated wink that made me want to throw myself overboard.
I covered my face with my hands, peeking through my fingers at the three highly amused men around me. This was happening, and I didn’t know whether to jump to my feet and pump my fists in victory or crawl under the table.