Page 71 of Ship Happens

“I like being here with you,” she teases, and slides her arms around my waist.

“Maybe you should be here more then,” I murmur, brushing my lips against hers. “Since it feels so good.”

“You know I can’t move in yet,” she agrees, pressing closer. “We just met Cole, and we are not supposed to be public about us yet.”

“I know.” I lift her, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her toward the bedroom. “I just like having you here. Don’t you want to be here?”

Her laughter against my lips is all the answer I need.

Hours later, we need a shower before we settle down next to one another to try get some sleet—we’vetriedthree times already.

“Your article publishes on Wednesday,” I say into the comfortable silence.

“Mmm. Are you nervous?”

“Not about the content.” I’ve seen drafts, know it’s fair—critically honest but also acknowledging my genuine efforts. “More about what happens afterward. When people realize we’re...”

“Together?” she replies when I hesitate.

“Together,” I confirm, liking the simple clarity of the word. “There will be questions, assumptions of impropriety, or conflicts of interest. The media can be horrible to deal with.”

“We knew that going into this,” she points out. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“About us? Not at all,” I assure her immediately. “About the timing of going public, maybe. I don’t want your professional credibility wrecked because of me.”

She props herself up on one elbow. “My work has always stood on its own merit. The data and evidence are there. Anyone who dismisses my findings because of our relationship isn’t smart enough to make an educated judgement, anyway.”

“Still, maybe we should wait a few more weeks after the publication before being seen together,” I suggest. “Give things time, let your readers make their assumptions without this. We can see how things go, once it blows over and the press has another CEO to hound, we can go public.”

“Or,” she counters, “we could acknowledge it now. Complete transparency. Yes, we have a personal relationship. Yes, it started while I was working on this paper. No, it did not compromise the integrity of the findings. The data speaks for itself.”

She has no idea how much the press hates men like me, how any woman in my life will be ripped to pieces, or just how ugly this will get.

“You’re suggesting we just... announce it?”

“Not with a big press release,” she clarifies, rolling her eyes. “But I don’t want us hiding it either. If we’re asked, we answerhonestly. The article publishes this Wednesday. If we’re seen having dinner together Thursday, so be it.”

“That’s... refreshingly direct. But also, not how the media, and press, and haters work.”

“I find it hard to lie, it is against everything I stand for,” she says with a small smile. “It feels wrong to keep this secret.”

“Maybe.” I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re sure this is what you want? The backlash could be intense, especially in environmental circles where I’m still viewed as a close cousin to the devil.”

“I’m sure about us,” she says. “The rest is just noise.”

I hadn’t acknowledged even to myself that our relationship might remain hidden, a complication rather than a partnership to be open about.

“Then I will speak to Alex, and we can go public,” I decide. “And I will be here however it unfolds.”

“I am sure people have other things to gossip over,” she says, settling back against my chest. “Me falling for the enemy is not newsworthy.”

“Tell that to Zoe.” I smile against her hair. “Actually, that might not be a bad way to do this.”

“Are you kidding?” she asks, amusement in her voice.

“She’s our friend,” I say to her. “she’ll be gentle about it.”

She laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Oh, you underestimate her. Zoe is not gentle.”

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