Page 33

CHARLOTTE

I tie my hair back into a ponytail in a desperate attempt to cool down. It doesn’t do much. The Mediterranean heat on a July afternoon means business. Sighing, I turn back to my computer, knowing I have about twenty before the screen gets overheated thanks to the sun’s harsh glare. I’m surprising Lucas with Blank Check merch—hats, t-shirts, and even custom Crocs—and need to approve the final mock-ups before they can go into production. I think he’s going to love it, but even if he doesn’t, at least I’ll have a new punny shirt to add to my collection.

I’ve just hit send on my email to the manufacturer when a glass of orange juice appears next to my right hand.

Closing my computer, I glance up and find Lucas towering over me, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. Rather than sip the juice, I drink in the sight of him. Dressed in swim shorts, a half-buttoned shirt, and a Boston Panthers baseball hat, Lucas is the epitome of a sexy sailor.

“Stop checking me out and drink,” he says, although his lips quirk up at my blatant perusal. What can I say? My boyfriend’s hotter than the sun .

“Aye aye,” I say with a salute. I had a feeling my headache and nausea were from low blood sugar rather than the sun and sea, so I chug away without complaint. Lucas waits patiently for me to empty the cup, but I'm only halfway through when something catches my attention—a massive inflatable floating in the water behind him.

Pointing to it, I ask, “What in the hell is that thing?”

“A floatie,” he answers easily.

“Thanks Captain Obvious,” I huff, finishing the final dregs of pulp and juice.

Lucas chuckles, the sound melding with the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the boat. Holding out a hand, he helps me up from my seat. The back of my sweaty legs sticks to the seat, making it a rather painful, and noisy, transition to standing.

“When did that get there?” I ask, peering over the side of the boat. It’s massive. Somewhere between the size of a kid’s playhouse and a garden shed. The white material of the floatie contrasts against the shimmering sea and up close, it’s even more impressive—sturdy, spacious, and perhaps it’s best feature: shaded.

“About two minutes after we anchored,” Lucas explains with a small smile. I’ve tried and failed to help him anchor the Blank Check numerous times, but he’s a micro-manager and ends up double checking everything I do and then it takes twice as long. I’ve learned to simply stay out of his way and let him do his thing which suits me just fine.

Pursing my lips, I follow up with another, simple question. “Why?”

“Because today’s the day you’re getting in the water with me.”

I jerk back. “Oh, um, no thank you.”

“Cute,” Lucas says with a cocky grin, “but it wasn’t a request. You promised. ”

I grumble to myself. He’s a sneaky motherfucker who only got me to agree to get into the water because my orgasm was on the line. Three seconds away from earth-shattering bliss, I figured my promise would be a future Charlotte problem. Turns out the future is right now, and I am woefully unprepared.

“C’mon, baby,” he says, nuzzling his stubbled face into the crook of my neck. “I checked the forecast earlier and the jellyfish population is vacationing down south today, so they won’t bother us.”

He barks out a laugh at my withering glare but doesn’t back down. Instead, he slips out of his sandals and shirt and waits for me to do the same. I follow his lead, peeling my cover up over my head, but not without mumbling in protest the entire time. I may have promised I’d go into the shark and jellyfish infested water with him, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be docile and happy about it.

In only our swimsuits—and lathered in sunscreen—I follow Lucas down the steps that cascade down in a gentle slope from the deck to just above the waterline. The final step is slightly submerged, making it easy to go into the water, or in our case onto the water entry pad of the cabana-castle-floatie that’s tethered nearby, gently bobbing on the surface.

Lucas immediately settles into one of the cushioned backrests, tugging me onto his lap. I settle against him and make myself comfortable, the cool water from the foot baths lapping at our ankles and the mesh shade overhead shielding us from the sun. I’m able to relax knowing that if a swordfish swims up to us, it’s long, flattened bill will hit Lucas’s arse first. And knowing how muscular his arse is… I don’t think it’s in any danger.

“Not too bad, right?” Lucas hums, resting his hand over my bikini-clad bum.

“If you don’t think about the fact that there could be pirate skeletons beneath us then yes,” I reluctantly agree .

“Drama queen,” he chuckles. “I forgot to tell you that Mitchell texted me this morning.”

I snort. “Mitchell texts you every morning, babe. If I weren’t so confident in your obsessive love for me, I’d start to get a little jealous.”

Lucas gives my arse a small smack. “Ha. He texted me about you .”

My fingers—which have been tracing his newest tattoo, a small kangaroo over his heart—pause at this news. “If it was about me going behind his back and changing our flight so it’s not at five a.m., I’m not apologizing. He knows I don’t do mornings.”

A deep rumble flows from his chest as he chuckles. “No, it surprisingly wasn’t about that. He told me he has a friend who’s interested in meeting you.”

“Kind of weird for you to be setting up with another bloke, babe.”

“ She’s a woman and wants to discuss representing you.”

I blink, surprised. “What do you mean?”

His hand moves. “A manager, baby. She’s seen your social media, your work... she’s seriously impressed and wants to help you build something.”

The jacket I made for Cole’s girlfriend went viral and now I get messages every day asking if I take custom orders or where they can purchase something similar. So far, I’ve stuck to making pieces for me and close friends, but if I want to turn it into a profitable career, I need help, even if it’s something holding my hand and mapping out my options with me.

“Holy shit,” I murmur, a small laugh of disbelief escaping.

He nods, tilting my chin toward him. A smile lifts at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got talent, baby. I’ve been saying it since day one. Now it’s time for the world to see that, too.”

The pride in his voice makes my heart swell, and excitement bubbles up in my chest. “So... what do I do? ”

He grins. “First? You take a meeting. See what they’re offering. And then? Who knows—you could be bigger than you ever imagined.”

I grin, my eyes lingering on his for a moment, before I lean in, capturing his lips with mine. It starts slow, a familiar rhythm, but there’s an edge to it—something hungry, like we’ve been holding back. He deepens the kiss, his hands threading through my hair, pulling me even closer.

He groans softly against my mouth, and the sound sends a spark through me. My heart races as his touch becomes more insistent, fingers tracing the curve of my spine, exploring with a heat that sets my skin alight. As he starts to toy with the tie on my bikini, I pull back to catch my breath.

“I’m stopping you right there,” I tease, noting the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Sex on the sailboat may be great, but sex in the sea… you’re not getting that lucky.”

Lucas lets out a deep, rumbling. “I’m already lucky, baby. I’ve got you.”

Swoon.

“I love you,” I say softly, his words wrapping around me.

He gently brushes his thumb across my cheek. “I love you, too, Char.”

Lucas makes me feel like the luckiest girl alive in ways I never expected. It’s in the little things—how his smile lights up when I walk into a room, the way his hand finds mine without thinking, like we were always meant to be. Lucky for us, we finally are.