Page 27 of Passing Ships

On the way back to the boat, Sebastian asks if Leia can spend the night with me and Amiya at the cabana.

“Avie and I haven’t had much alone time lately, and things are about to get hectic, so I’d like to plan a romantic night for her on the houseboat,” he explains.

“Naomie doesn’t want a night with her grandchild?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “She’s going with Mom and Nana to bingo down at the eastside pier. I’m sure she’d be willing to skip it if I asked, but—”

“No need. I’d be happy to host a sleepover,” I cut him off.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. How hard can it be to entertain a five-year-old? Besides, Amiya will be there if I run into trouble,” I assure him.

Amiya

“Step back. And remember, keep your eyes on the ball,” Lennon calls.

Leia nods, and he pulls back and gently throws the football high into the air.

I watch as her little legs jog backward, but her eyes follow the arc of the Nerf football as it sails in her direction. Her face is toward the sky, and her tiny arms are stretched wide as she waits for the spiraling ball to make it to her.

Our day in Raleigh was a success. Avie’s fitting went well. The four of us burst into tears when she walked into the room. The alterations made the gown look as if it had been made just for her. Naomie ordered custom Christian Louboutin heels made using some of the spare lace from the Elie Saab gown, and once Avie tried the heels on with the gown, only a tad bit of the length needed to be removed.

Afterward, we had a great lunch at Croquette Brasserie. It was the most carefree I’d seen Avie since arriving on the island, so when I received a text from Sebastian, asking if I would mind helping Lennon look after Leia tonight so he could surprise Avie with a romantic evening, I was completely on board.

Sabel dropped me off at the cabana about ten minutes ago, and I followed the sound of Leia’s laughter, taking a seat on the deck to watch them playing on the beach.

The sun reflects in her hair, and her expression is full of anticipation as the ball coasts toward her.

It bounces against her shoulder, and she clumsily attempts to wrap her arms around it. It teeters, and she fights to cradle it against her chest.

She did it.

I stand and begin to whistle and cheer as Leia stares down at the bright red foam like she can’t believe she held on to it.

Her mouth drops open, and she starts to dance up and down in the sand.

“I did it, Uncle Lennon. I caught the ball!” she screams in excitement.

“You sure did. Good job, munchkin,” he praises as he runs to her.

Damn, he’s beautiful. All cut and toned and tanned and perfect.

As if he can hear me, he turns, and when his eyes meet mine, he grins. His stare is intense as he scoops Leia up, deposits her on his shoulders, and begins walking in my direction.

Leia’s bubbly, high-spirited laughter is infectious. Her joy at being perched atop her uncle’s hulking shoulders is contagious, and the sound causes my heart to lurch.

Treacherous heart.

“Hey, Legs. How was your day?”

“It was good. How about yours?” I ask.

“We got kites—mine was a pink butterfly and Uncle Lennon’s was a bumblebee—but I let go, and mine flew out to the ocean,” Leia answers for him.

“Oh no.”

“It’s okay. Uncle Lennon let me have his.”

---