Page 83 of Beyond The Break

“You’re telling me your boat has a kitchen too? Is it even supposed to be called a boat? It looks more like a yacht to me,” she rambles.

“Boat…yacht, same thing.”

We go downstairs first and toss our bags on top of the bed before going up to the bridge and starting it up. It doesn’t take us long to move the boat to an empty spot further out in the water.

“Do you want to shower before dinner while I get it ready?” I ask as I lower the anchor.

She yawns and stretches her arms out. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Maybe the water will help wake me up.”

She stands up and walks down the stairs, disappearing into the lower level. I quickly stomp my way down the stairs until I’m on the main level, sprinting toward the kitchen area. Igrab the large container of spaghetti out of the fridge and toss it into the microwave to heat up while I set up the foldout table and chairs that lean against the wall. I light two candles and then rush back into the kitchen to plate our dinner, adding a salad to the side and bringing both plates to the table.

As I’m bringing the bottle of wine that was chilling in the fridge to the table, two glasses tucked under my arm, I hear her calling my name.

“I’m over here,” I call out as I place the glasses on the table and meet her at the stairs as she walks down from the bridge.

“I was looking for you,” she frowns and pouts as she meets me at the bottom of the stairs.

Her hair is damp and tied into a tight bun above her head, strands of her wavy dark hair sticking out of each side. She’s wearing black leggings and a navy hoodie from my dresser. I never would have thought I’d enjoy seeing her wear my clothes as much as I’m enjoying it right now. I don’t even want her to return the hoodie to me after today, I would love to see her wearing my clothes everyday if I had the choice.

“You look beautiful.” I pull her in for a kiss before I pull out a blindfold from my pocket and tie it over her eyes.

She holds it in place just above her nose as I secure the knot behind her head. “Why do I feel like you’re going to make me walk the plank?”

I move her hair away from one side of her neck, kissing a trail up until I reach her ear. “No plank walking tonight.” I whisper, noticing how her breathing has shallowed.

I take her hand and escort her to the front of the boat where the table and chairs are set up and help her into her seat before I gently remove the blindfold. She gasps and brings her hands to her mouth as she looks at the table setting.

“Griffin,” she says my name breathlessly as her eyes begin to sparkle, “this is beautiful.”

I round the table and take a seat in front of her, smiling as she brings her watery eyes to mine.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” She picks up her napkin and dabs at the corners of her eyes before spreading it out on her lap.

I pop the cork of the wine bottle, Eliana squealing when it flies into the water, and pour us both a glass.

“I want to know more about you, how did you and Gabriel cross paths? How did fate bring you to me?”

Her features soften as she takes a sip of wine, eyeing me over her glass.

“Well, it all started with Zalea Evans.”

“What was she like?” I ask, picking up my fork and eating a mouthful of the best spaghetti I’ve had in my life, “I only surfed alongside her for about four months before she left our team.”

“She’s amazing. I drank with her, and she popped my tequila cherry. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to drink that stuff again after the hangover I had the next morning.”

I choke when she says the wordspopped my tequila cherry,but I quickly recover. I spend the rest of dinner eating and listening to her tell me how Gabriel found her photography page online and reached out to her to photograph Zalea’s competition.

I knew Gabriel had been searching for a photographer for quite some time. Running the team’s social accounts had always been the one thing that drove him crazy. I remember many nights, leaving him at the kitchen island, only to find him still sitting there the next morning trying to write a caption. He would have paid Eliana a million dollars a year to take the job if it meant he no longer had to do it.

Once we finish eating, she helps me clean up our plates and put away the table and chairs before we make our way to the lower level.

“Wait here,” I say, stopping her in front of the bedroom door.

I walk in, closing the door behind me, before I sprint to the bottom drawer of my dresser and pull out the bag of twenty flameless candles, turning them on and setting them up around the room.

As I open the door, she peaks past me, and her jaw drops for the second time tonight as she spots the candles. I run my hand down her arm, interlocking our fingers, as I pull her inside and close the door behind her.

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