Page 47 of The Proximity Effect

“No, you don’t.” I reached over and put my hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You like us. That’s kind of the problem.”

“The problem is that I apparently have the impulse control of a squirrel on espresso. And now I’m going to dinner with three men who’ve all seen my?—”

“Look!” Evan shouted, pointing wildly out the window like he’d spotted Bigfoot. “A duck!”

It was a mailbox shaped like a duck. I caught Tessa’s eye, and we both lost it, our laughter filling the car as Archer muttered something about needing new friends.

Chapter 17

Duck Anatomy

Tessa

Istared at the boat—sorry, yacht—with the kind of wide-eyed wonder usually reserved for small children seeing Disney World for the first time. My brain scrambled to process the floating mansion before me, complete with multiple decks.

When Evan had suggested dinner, I’d assumed we were heading to one of the local restaurants in town, not boarding what looked like something out of a billionaire’s playbook. So much for my carefully selected casual but cute outfit.

“A dinner cruise?” The words came out in a squeak, and I internally cringed at how my voice betrayed my nerves. My ability to play it cool was apparently on vacation and had been since I arrived. “This seems... elaborate.” Like showing up to a coffee date in a wedding dress elaborate.

Evan winked and offered me his arm, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Only the best for our new chef.”

As we approached the gangway, Liam glanced at me with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Need helpwith the stairs?” His limp was barely noticeable now, though I caught the slight hesitation in his step.

“I think you’re the one who needs help.” I offered my arm with a smirk. “Unless you’ve forgotten about your dramatic wipeout already?”

He scoffed, brushing off the comment with a wave of his hand. “Please. That was a tactical fall. I had to get your attention somehow.”

“By nearly breaking your ankle?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

I laughed despite myself, the sound easing some of the tension in my shoulders. This was... nice. Almost normal, if I ignored the fact that I’d seen all three men in various states of undress over the past week.

And now my brain, ever helpful, provided a highlight reel of those moments. Fantastic.

The maître d’ led us to the upper deck, where a table waited in a quiet corner surrounded by windows that offered stunning views of the lake and mountains. The sunset painted everything in soft pinks and golds, and fairy lights twinkled overhead like someone had scattered stars across the ceiling. It was the kind of setting that belonged in a romance novel, not my actual life.

“Wow.” The word escaped me as I took it all in, my voice almost reverent. “This is... wow.” And there went my extensive vocabulary, floating away on the evening breeze.

Evan pulled out my chair, his grin smug but teasing. “You said ‘wow’ twice. I’m taking that as a good sign.”

“It’s beautiful.” I sat down, hyperaware of the three men arranging themselves around me like an impossibly attractive honor guard. “Though I have to ask, do you always take your employees out for fancy dinner cruises, or am I special?”

The question slipped out before I could stop it, my filter very unreliable. I reached for my water glass, needing something todo with my hands before they betrayed me by fidgeting with the tablecloth.

Archer’s eyes met mine over the rim of my glass, his voice quiet and steady, carrying a weight that made my toes curl in my shoes. “You’re definitely special.”

“The most special. Now, who’s ready for drinks? I feel like we could all use some alcohol.” Evan’s tone was casual, but his grin was wide enough to suggest he was enjoying this situation far too much.

“God, yes.” The words slipped out under my breath, drawing chuckles from around the table. At least I wasn’t the only one feeling the need for liquid courage.

We ordered a round of cocktails and enough appetizers to feed a small army. As the drinks arrived—something fruity and pink for me that promised to be both delicious and dangerous, whiskey for Archer, beer for Liam, and a martini for Evan—I felt myself beginning to relax. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the way they all seemed to be trying so hard to make me comfortable.

Evan raised his glass, his expression warm and open. “To new beginnings.”

Liam smirked, leaning back in his chair with casual grace. “And to not talking about ducks.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. “I’m never living that down, am I?”

---