zac
A PRIVATE YACHT had docked at King’s island while we were having breakfast Friday morning, and East let out a whoop.
“Hell yes, the chef is back,” he said, pushing away his plate of half-eaten scrambled eggs and toast. With the storms the last couple of days, it hadn’t been safe for any of King’s staff to come, which meant we’d been at the mercy of our limited cooking knowledge. I may have helped my family run restaurants, but that didn’t mean I was any good behind a grill.
King arched a brow where he stood at the kitchen island peeling one of the many bananas we’d gathered earlier in the week. “Are you trying to say you don’t find my cooking to your standards, James?”
“I’m notnotsaying that.”
He tossed the peel in the compost bin. “Then I guess I shouldn’t tell you that’s not the chef.”
“Then who is it?”
“Wrong question.”
“I didn’t realize there was a Q&A session for breakfast.”
King turned his eyes on me. “Care to hazard a guess?”
I glanced out at the yacht, and though I could see a couple of people onboard, they didn’t look to be getting off. “We’re going somewhere?”
He nodded. “We are.”
“Oh shit.” East was up and running in the direction of his room before I could even ask where.
“What are you doing?” I called after him.
“This requires pants,” was all he said before disappearing around the corner.
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, we’d all boarded the Roi de la Mer—completely clothed—and were sipping on our welcome drinks. The sun was out in full force, and so was the wind as we sailed away from King’s island, which meant there was no telling what my hair would look like when we got to our destination. I figured East would be freaking out over his perfectly styled ’do getting blown to shit, but he was so happy to be going on an adventure that he didn’t seem to mind.
He also wasn’t bombarding King with any more questions. And King, being his usual full-of-surprises self, didn’t offer up any details, only letting us know the trip would take about twenty minutes.
That was fine by me. I didn’t mind crossing the water as long as no one threw me overboard into it.
“You good?” King asked, joining me at the railing.
I squinted at him behind my sunglasses and couldn’t help but notice for the hundredth time how damn good he looked. The crisp, loose white linen outfit he wore was such a stunning contrast to his dark skin, and the whole beachy vibe fit him so well it was hard to believe he spent most of his time all buttoned up.
Hell, it was hard to believe any of this was real. That I’d spent the week with him and East, that we were island hopping… If I knew it wouldn’t leave a mark, I’d ask East to pinch me.
“Am I good?” I said. “I couldn’t be better.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” King propped his forearms on the rail, so close his arm brushed against mine. His touch sent a current of electricity through me that had my stomach doing a somersault.
In the distance, an island that was far more inhabited than King’s came into view. Against the bright blue sky and aquamarine water, it made for an unbelievable picture.
“This is all so incredible,” I said. “Thank you for bringing us here.”
“Us?” The side of King’s mouth tipped up.
“Well, me, but I’ll include East in that, since I’m sure he’ll never say thanks.”
“He has, actually, but I’m far more interested in the way you both refer to each other together without realizing it.”
My brows pulled together and I took a long sip of my rum cocktail. I couldn’t remember saying or even thinking about East and me as an “us.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” King added. “Just thought I’d point it out.”