Page 62 of Catching Trouble
“Do you want what your mother wants for you?”
And why was I even asking? I had no business questioning her life plans.
She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. Her curls bounced around her shoulders from the movement. “Do you think I’d be here if I did? I’d be back in London, doing somethingsensible.
Instead, I’m chatting with my temporary boss who looks like he should have a shimmery tail and the power to breathe underwater.” She put a hand on her hip, and something like a challenge flashed in her eyes.
She looked amazing and merde, but the corners of my mouth twitched with an overwhelming urge to smile. “Shimmery?”
Chloe tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. “Maybe. It might suit you.”
She was laughing at me, but I didn’t care. My chest filled with an overwhelming need to spend time with her. I let out a slow breath. “I’m going out on the boat for a few hours. Want to come along?”
Chloe grinned. “Where to? Atlantis?”
“I can’t take you there. Nobody left a map. But I need more fish. And I need to catch them before that cloud arrives.” I pointed to the bubbling grey on the horizon.
Chloe tightened her eyes into the distance. “That looks miles away.”
I shrugged. “Things can happen pretty fast on the water.”
She snapped her head back to me. Eyebrows raised, then ran her gaze over my chest.
My skin prickled under her attention.
Her lips curved. “Sure. Why not?”
My heart almost burst out of my chest, but I swallowed the feeling down. “Come aboard.”
She walked to the edge of the boat. Taking hold of the side, she tried to climb in, but in a cruel twist of fate, the sea sent a larger wave to shore. Not a tsunami, but enough to knock Chloe against the boat.
She muttered under her breath, and seeing her frown, I let go of the rope and picked her up, setting her neatly on the deck. With me standing ankle-deep in the water, we were suddenly face to face. My hands were still around her waist, and her focus shifted up to meet mine.
Her fair lashes fluttered, and her chest moved faster than before.
In sympathy, my heart hammered, too, and I tugged in a breath. What the hell was happening? It was like her presence sucked me in—drew me closer—and I was helpless to resist.
The air thickened between us, and before I could stop myself, I lifted a hand, brushing my thumb over her cheek. “Taches de rousseur.”
At Chloe’s wide-eyed stare, I shook my head. “Sorry. What do you call…”
“Freckles?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
I nodded. “They’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks fired a furious red. It was all I could do not to kiss the blush away.
A faint line formed between her brows, and she brought her fingertips to my knuckles. I held my breath. Would she rip my hand away?
Instead, she traced her thumb over my skin—soft, deliberate.
Her touch was so gentle, so deliciously intimate. My mind barrelled back to the time she washed my hands in the shower. I’d never forget it.
I stared at her as if time stood still.
But, again, the gods of the water had other ideas. They sent a stronger wave, knocking the boat against me. Chloe and I let go of each other and I scowled, cursing the wind for its terrible timing.
“The sea is getting up.” I looked at the looming cloud. It was still a way away. “We should get going.”
