26. The Regatta
THE REGATTA
ROSALIND
S ailing thrilled me on mornings like this when the weather was good, and the wind was a bit wild. I’d not grown up in Scotland as my older brothers had, but I did get a taste of the Kentish coast quite frequently. They preferred the cold. I liked it a bit warmer and sunnier. Regardless of the temperature, sea air always did me a bit of good.
This morning, I had much to be thankful for. I’d had a wonderful evening cuddling with Lars. He’d left a handprint on my arse that he was now paranoid about, but damn it was worth it. The sails were filled. We were in a good position. We wouldn’t win this race but might beat Keir’s boat. For now, that was all that mattered.
“I still feel awful,” Lars said as we awaited another order on our third and final loop around the island.
“About what?” I laughed.
“The thing ,” Lars answered.
“Darling, you shouldn’t feel bad,” I said. “You unlocked an entire level of kink most men don’t ever get to see—at least not for months and only if I think I can trust them.”
“Really?” Lars asked.
“Yes, Lars. I live for it. Unless you don’t?—“
“No, regatta it is. Let’s do it again sometime.”
Thinking about him spanking me again distracted me. The boat lilted, sending me into Lars. He caught me and laughed. I stared into his eyes for a moment, seeing only tenderness. He kissed my forehead and set me back upright, dusting me off in an adorable way.
“There you are. Focus, elskling.”
“Yes, focus,” I repeated to myself.
Mac barked an order, and Mary came up behind me. “Dreadful. This is so dreadful. Why do we put up with it?”
“It’s fun,” I said. “It’s about teamwork.”
“I just want to go home. I think I’m seasick. I need to go below deck.”
“Don’t,” Lars warned. “It gets worse. I recommend lying down over there and taking a break.”
He pointed to a section of the bow she could easily relax in
“Above deck?”
“Yes,” I said.
Mary didn’t understand how badly we needed the wind. She wanted a quiet sailing day for fun. Meanwhile, the rest of us were living to jib and tack. This was life on a massive vessel cutting through the waves. Despite our sage advice, Mary went below deck, only to come back up and whinge at Mac about how she was sick.
“They are so dysfunctional,” Lars said. “Is she pregnant?”
“It’s hard. He’s really trying,” I said. “But no. She… it won’t work like that. They tried. It didn’t work. They froze her eggs before she went through chemo, but now they aren’t sure about the timing.”
Lars shook his head. “Doesn’t Mac want kids? He loves kids.”
“He does. It’s not helping with their woes. Honestly, I don’t know if it will ever happen. I suspect that that is why they are always fighting.”
“That is all I don’t want,” Lars said. “I can appreciate honesty—even if brutal.”
“I know,” I said. “I’d much rather it be honest.”
“Ironic, given this whole thing was fake.”
I chuckled. “Yeah.”
But it stopped feeling fake a long time ago.
I adored Lars and wanted much more of him.
He turned back to the race. “I think we stand a chance. They’re slowing.”
He spotted Keir’s yacht. Anyone could have. The bright blue boat with the massive Union Jack was impossible to miss. We kept pace.
“This old bucket of bolts doesn’t do too bad,” I laughed.
“The crew is superior,” Lars said. “This thing holds a great bit of nostalgia for me, but the crew is why I joined in.”
I blushed.
“We must do this again next year, Rose. I want to.”
“Me, too,” I agreed. “It was a lot of fun.”