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Chapter Nineteen

Cleopatra

After dinner, he takes a moment for a phone call, leaving me with a few peaceful moments on the deck to savor the fresh air. When he comes back, he's smiling and leads me up a lovely curved staircase. My bare feet pad against the smooth floor as the gentle breeze playfully tousles my hair and makes my dress flutter. We arrive at the boat's bow, where there's a spacious sunbathing area perfect for relaxing, adorned with thick blue and white striped cushions with embroidered gold letters of the boat’s name.

I now understand why they chose the name The Aphrodisiac for the yacht. The sun, the water, the yacht's luxury, the attentive staff meeting your every need, and even the no-shoe policy—all of it puts you at ease, making you feel carefree and enlivened.

And if you’re with someone you want to be naked with, totally turned on .

My bare feet sink into the cushy pads. He gives me a hand, helping me sit, and then nestles beside me. We sit, arm against arm, hips touching, and take a quiet moment to absorb the night. Eventually, he breaks our comfortable silence. “This is my favorite part of the boat.”

“I can see why. It’s beautiful up here.” I rest my back against the bow, stretching my legs before me, feet crossed lazily at the ankle. “And so relaxing.”

There’s a bucket of ice holding a bottle of champagne with a name I neither recognize nor can pronounce. He pops the top, saying, “To us.” He pours two flutes, and soon I’m holding a chilled champagne that likely costs more than my salary, while stars twinkle in the navy sky above. A gentle breeze sweeps over the water, teasing the hem of my dress and making the water of the lake lap at the edge of the boat.

Staring over the lake makes a memory come to me. “My dad took me fishing at a lake one time. Night fishing. I loved it.”

He takes the opportunity to ask a question I feel he’s wondered about for a while now. “You and your dad never seemed that close to me. I always wondered why.”

“He was a good dad, don’t get me wrong. He loved me. I wanted for nothing, and every Sunday night was reserved for me. We hung out, binge-watching house renovation shows and eating pizza. But I think he was lonely in a way only another adult could fulfill.”

“Ma was always around.” He eyes me. “Sounds like you were alone a lot. ”

“Yeah, whenever there wasn’t a girlfriend living with us, or us with her, he was out. A lot. I think that’s why I’m wound so tight most of the time, following all the rules. I had to do everything myself—ensure my homework was done, get up for school on time, and cook dinner.”

“Protein.” He nods.

“It’s all about the protein,” I agree with a light laugh. I think of that time, him and me, Sharon and Dad. “It was nice when we all lived together. Wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He gazes up at the stars. “Other than the raging hard-on I had every time you walked out of the shower in that pink robe of yours.”

Heat flushes my face. He felt the same way, then, too? This territory feels dangerous, so I change the subject. “Anyway, I don’t blame Dad, but he was always more interested in chasing the women he was dating than spending time with me.”

He chuckles. “Like marrying a woman, moving in with her and her son, then moving out months later?”

“Exactly. And after that, it was Susan. Then Karen. Then what’s her name? I can barely keep up.”

“And now, back to Ma,” he says.

“I really hope they work out this time.”

“If they do,” he draws circles over my bare thigh with his fingertip, leaving a trail of tingling in its wake. “That kinda makes a mess for us.”

“Us? ”

“Yeah. We’re legally stepsiblings. If we got married, what would that make us? And if we had kids one day, what would that make them?”

“I don’t know. Cousins?”

He stares off into the starry night. “I wonder if that would be weird for them.” His voice is far away, deep in thought. I’ve never seen him this contemplative before. I wonder what he’s so deep in thought over.

I gather the courage to ask. “What’s going on in the handsome mind of yours?”

“Just thinking about our parents. Single parents. Moving around. When I get married and have kids, I want them to have stability. I want them to know that no matter what happens, their parents will be together and there for them.”

It’s the most white-picket-fence statement I’ve heard a man make. My heart flutters nonstop, and emotions make my throat go tight. All I can get out is, “Same.”

He glances over at me. “Could you ever see a future with us?”

Danger. Danger. Warning flashes go off.

Of course I’ve had glimpses of our future in my overactive imagination! But that’s playtime. Like when I pretended he was my big brother, or this staycation where we’ve been playing house. It’s fun. It makes you feel good.

But it's not real.

Our return to New York is quickly approaching. I need to redirect him. Now .

“Of course it’s fun to dream. You’re gorgeous and thoughtful. What girl wouldn’t want to be with you?” Easing into my response, I start with the basics. “But we’re not compatible. You’re rich, handsome, and dangerously sexy, with a history sheet of lovers longer than my legs.”

“You are pretty short,” he jokes, not understanding what I’m getting at. Or, not wanting the conversation to turn the direction I’m taking it.

“Right.” I nod. “Like a hobbit.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head.

I don’t want to explain to him that I’m a dorky little hobbit who doesn’t even have her hobbit hole yet still holds out for her white picket fence dream of a happily ever after.

His polar opposite.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, staring at me under the moonlight. “Don’t let me catch you saying anything less than the truth. You’re beautiful.”

Ignoring the happy twinkle from his compliment, I focus on the topic at hand. “I’m boring. A homebody. I’m a teacher, and I will be forever. I like the repetition of the seasons, the predictability of my life. I like…safe. I need a partner to meet me where I am.”

He leans back, resting against the cushion, and stares at the ocean for a while before saying, “A safe bet.”

“Right.” He gets it. I glance around at the beauty that surrounds us. Danger. Excitement. Wealth .

Each day a new adventure.

Suddenly, he spits a name out with venom. “Nathan.”

I have no idea who Nathan is, but Blaze clearly hates him. Should I even ask? An uncomfortable moment passes, him fuming, me wondering. Okay, let’s be honest, I’m too nosy not to ask. “ Who is Nathan?”

He gives a heavy sigh. “The accountant you’re going to marry.”

“Since when have I been engaged to an accountant?”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head sadly. “You're Cleopatra. You’re a queen.”

“Queen?” I snort. “Yeah, right.” Queen of the hobbits, maybe.

The night grows quiet, and I get lost in thought, picturing myself wearing a tiny gold laurel leaf crown on my head and leading a line of furry-footed beings around the Shire.

Finally, he says, “You’re just so—good.”

“I know.” A vanilla bean goody-goody rule-following hobbit. “That’s my point. I’m not a flashy mafioso wife.”

“A good person. So pure. So kind.” I wait before replying, wondering where he’s going with this conversation. “I’m a bad guy with a history. I’m a member of an organized crime family.” He looks down at his hand. “I don’t want to corrupt you. You’re right. It’s not a good fit.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m shocked by how much it hurts to hear him say we’re not a good fit .

This makes no sense. I’m so confused. I’m the one who laid down the only and most important rule; this ends.

My heart craves him, but my head says don’t get hurt again.

Finally, his gaze drifts up to meet mine. “You deserve a Nathan.”

But I want you .

Wow, where did that come from? Four simple enough words, but they threaten to complicate everything.

I-thump. Want-thump. You-thump.

You can’t always get what you want, Cleo.

The last time I did what I wanted in a relationship, I asked my cheating boyfriend to ‘work it out’ with me, and to my humiliation, he declined. Wait—that’s not entirely accurate. The most recent time I thought with my heart (among other body parts) instead of my head I slept with my stepbrother. The very man who sits beside me now, making said heart race and mentioned body parts melt.

I swallow down all the feels, going with my common sense. I force the words from my mouth. “And you deserve a wonderful, beautiful woman who can mingle with other Beauties without feeling terror. Someone who can travel with you and relax and…I don’t know,” I try to make light of the situation we’ve found ourselves in, joking, “Maybe you want a girl who can reach the second shelf of her kitchen cabinets.”

He looks at me. “I always liked it when we lived together and you’d ask me to get stuff off the high shelf for you. ”

“You did?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It made me feel good. You’re like the most self-sufficient woman in the world, and you needed help from someone like me.” He takes a long sip from his drink.

Someone like him? “You work hard, constantly consider others, and prioritize family. You genuinely are a good man.”

“Thanks.” He sounds genuinely touched. “That means a lot coming from you.” He pauses a moment, then says, “Hey. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about the other night. After Liam and Emila’s house, you said something…”

Oh goodness. I don’t remember. How big of a fool did I make of myself?

“I had a lot of wine that night. I’m kind of a lightweight.” I rack my brain trying to think of what I may have said to him in my intoxicated state. “Get it over with. What foolish thing did I say?”

“You said you had to drink that night,” he says. “So you could pretend?—”

His words are cut off by a loud alarm blaring from the phone in my pocket.

Saved by the bell! Always alert beneath his calm demeanor, Blaze sits straight up, asking, “What was that?”

“Sorry. I haven’t yet figured out the volume control on this fancy Bach-Tech.” I slip the phone from the helpful pocket of my dress. “I set a reminder alarm.”

He settles back against the cushions. “For what? ”

“Class assignment requests are due.” It feels a world away, but school will start in the fall.

“For work?” he asks.

“Yes. You can request which grade you’re in for the upcoming school year. I’m certified K-6, and I’m hoping to stay with my class and move up to first grade, and with the time change, I didn’t want to miss it. The principal says it’s not first come, first serve, but I don’t think getting mine in right away hurts.”

“You’re attached to those little buggers, huh?”

“Yeah. They kinda have me wrapped around their fingers. I hope my principal lets me stay with them.” I give him a pensive glance. “How are things on your end? Will I be safe to go back?”

“Fingers crossed, but I’m working things out.”

“All those secret phone calls you’ve been having?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think we’ll be good. As long as you’re okay with 24/7 surveillance when I leave the city to come back here.”

“I know.” We’ve had long discussions about this. I don’t want him worrying about me. “I understand. And thank you for keeping me safe.”

“It’s my number one job.” Then his voice goes tight. “So, you’re looking forward to going back?”

“This vacation has been incredible, but work calls.” I inhale deeply, trying to log the scent of the air in my memory, “I’m gonna miss fresh air when I’m back in the city. ”

A quiet moment goes by. Then he asks, his voice low, filled with emotion. “You gonna miss me?”

My heart tugs in my chest.

“Of course I am.” More than I could ever tell him. “I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

He reaches over, grabbing my hand to hold it as we gaze back up at the stars in silence, both of us lulled into our thoughts by our conversation and the lap of the water.

My relaxed state is quickly dissipating. I’m hurting. I want something with him, but this trip is a perfect fairytale, and I must return to my real life. I hate to ruin this amazing night he planned; nothing in me wants him to feel less important than work, but if I don’t send that email…

Poppy’s cute little face pops up in my mind, telling me about her Grandpa’s ‘beary weevils.’

Releasing his hand, I let out a sigh and sit up. “I hate to burst our heavenly bubble, but class assignment requests really are due, and I love those little munchkins. Duty calls, even in paradise. I’ll need to use my old phone to find his email address.”

He stares up at me with those gorgeous green eyes of his. “I don’t want to think about you returning to the city.”

“I’m going to really miss you, Blaze.” I lean over, kissing him. “Thank you. For everything.”

He goes to hold me, to draw me further into the kiss, but I have a life to return to, and I don’t want to miss this opportunity because I got lost in a moment .

In all honesty, I want to be alone with my pain and disappointment. I’ve come dangerously close to letting my feelings get the best of me. I need to remember that we live in two different worlds, an ocean apart.

I pull away, putting a hand to his cheek. “I’m sorry, but I should go now.”

“I know.” He puts his hand over mine.

As we stare into one another’s eyes, I’m not entirely sure if ‘I have to go’ means going back to the city or leaving him. I have to be strong. I can’t get lost in the magic of the moment. It takes all my inner strength to stand up from the bunny pad.

I spend the next few moments thanking him profusely, ensuring he knows how wonderful this day and this trip have been and how grateful I am for his protection, care, and thoughtfulness. He’s quiet as I speak, with a soft smile and a faraway look in his eyes. “And most of all, thank you for healing me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was…broken after Keith. You made me feel,” I stare up at him. “You made me feel beautiful. You made me see myself in a new light.”

“You are beautiful. You’re a bright light in a dim world.”

Warmth comes over me at his compliment. I’m going to miss his words as much as his kisses. Speaking of, now, he leans in to kiss me, but I don’t think I can handle one of his deep, emotional tongue tangles. I turn my face and offer my cheek .

Finally, I ask, “Where can I find my phone?”

“It’s back at the house,” he says.

“We have to go back to get it?”

“Yeah.” He glances at his watch. “It’s only ten.”

My heart sinks at the thought of leaving the boat before our time is up. But I need that phone. He stares up at me. I’m not sure if I’m misreading his gaze, but I feel he’s pleading with me to say no, stay, and forget about my job, my life, and the city.

To stay with him.

I could ask if we can return to the yacht after getting the phone, but we both know the moment will be over. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to lead him on. I’m afraid we’re both getting tied up in something that just isn’t real.

Our time really is up.

“Honestly,” my voice feels tight as I stand, smoothing down the back of my dress. “It might be best if we go back now.”

In so many ways.

He runs a hand over the back of his neck and stands, saying. “You’re right.”

I don’t want to be right.

“Let’s go back.”

Tears gather at the corners of my eyes. I got pretty close to the sun for a moment, letting the shine blind me, daydreaming of what it would be like if we could be together.

Now, it’s time to pull back before we get burned.