Page 72 of Resistance Training
“Oh right, because of your overheated muscles.”
“They aren’t overheated—will you get down there and stay down there please?”
“That’s what she said!”
I shake my head. “Vivian.”
“Fine. I’m going. But you’d better drop anchor.”
I don’t respond to that because I am the captain and I decide.
When I hear her open and close the door to the main salon, I decide to pilot around the bend and drop anchor. This motoryacht has an electric anchor windlass, so once I’vepositioned her over the desired spot, I can deploy the anchor from the helm, but I go out to the bow to get a better visual.
While I’m there, Vivian opens the door and steps outside. “Everything okay?” she asks.
She sounds like she’s wearing a tight, wet T-shirt, so I don’t look back at her. “Yes. Go back inside.”
“The water’s boiled.”
“Then enjoy a mug of hot chocolate by yourself. I’m going to stay up on the flybridge.”
She huffs. “I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you’re being a stubborn assclown.”
Man, oh man, she must have really enjoyed having her ass slapped last night because she is asking for it.
“Will you just come inside?” she continues. “There’s so much room! I’ll read in one of the cabins. You can have the rest of it to yourself!”
“I’ll see you inside when I’m ready, Vivian.”
She makes a guttural frustrated sound that is somehow sexy, and I don’t turn around until I hear her close that door again because I am positive she didn’t put her sweater back on over that damp white T-shirt.
I go back up to the flybridge, put the boat in Reverse to set the anchor, ensure that the anchor is holding, and then I take a seat in the captain’s chair, taking a big, deep breath.
It’s really coming down now.
The herons have taken shelter.
The ducks are still on the water, but they’ve paddled closer to shore.
The hawks and eagles have disappeared.
All the wildlife is taking shelter.
There’s a light spray of water coming through the gaps of the vinyl panels and the metal frames, and fuck it—I’m going below deck.
Why shouldn’t I take shelter too?
She’s right. There’s tons of room down there, and it’s gorgeous. Why should she be the only one who gets to enjoy the climate-controlled environment and all that high-gloss cherry trim and the cozy beige ultraleather sofas? Why shouldn’t I relax to the soothing, rhythmic sound of rain on the cabin roof? As I make my way down the steps to the cockpit and open the cabin door, I can’t think of one good reason why I shouldn’t get comfortable inside with my book and a mug of hot chocolate. I’m a grown man who’s one hundred percent capable of not fucking a woman if I don’t want to fuck a woman.
Even when that woman is Vivian Sparks.
Even when I take that last step down to the salon and look up to find Vivian standing in the galley, holding her T-shirt and jeans, wearing nothing but a bra and panties.
But fuck.
CHAPTER 21
BRAD
