Page 24 of The Romantic Agenda
“That’s sopetty.” Joy winks at him. “I approve.” She straightens up, turning her back on him in favor of watching the rippling waves as the boat cruises across the water.
That exchange needed a hard stop. If she pressed, the fun would wear off and become annoying. Dealing with Malcolm and Summer stressed her out to the high heavens. Having Fox around could be a blessing in disguise. Someone to spar and have fun with to balance out her constantly fluctuating moods and keep her grounded.
Fox’s voice cuts through everything—the boat’s engine, the water, the birds, Joy’s thoughts. “For the record, I see you too.”
It takes everything Joy has to not turn back around. She grips the railing of the boat, lips pressed together to stop her smile from overtaking her face.
Seven words again. Damn, he’s good.
Seven
Malcolm gave Summer free rein with the music in the car, but the boat’s playlist is all Joy. She pairs her phone with the stereo system and selects her ~vacation vibes~ playlist. The first song kicks in with a hypnotic baseline layered with sweet soprano vocalists and a simple drumbeat.
“Can I drive by myself now?” Summer holds her hands together in the prayer position.
“In a second. I promise.” Malcolm heads toward the back of the boat, where two blue coolers and a small table have been set up. He sets out the food he brought—sliced summer fruits, fancy meats and cheese with toothpicks, an assortment of chips and dips, and drinks—into a neat display.
Joy watches him, patiently waiting for a moment to slide in. If Malcolm wanted help, he would have asked. His attention to detail can occasionally be lethal. He’s been known to slap someone’s hand away if they invade his creative space. He’s almost finishedwhen Joy sidles up beside him. She reaches under his arm, swiping a bottle of champagne from the ice bucket.
“Would you like a glass?” He laughs as he asks.
Joy takes a swig from the bottle as an answer. The cool, fizzing bubbles tickle the inside of her mouth.
“Heathen.”
“All the best people are.” Joy blows a playful kiss at him.
He pretends to catch and toss it back at her, smiling the entire time.
“You wound me, sir. My champagne and I don’t have to take that.” Grinning, she saunters back to her seat and on the way she accidentally makes eye contact with Summer. Her usual ray of sunshine expression is a bit cloudier than normal, but she recovers quickly, perking up and bounding off to stand next to Malcolm.
While Summer drives, Joy distracts herself by dancing around the boat. Resisting a good song isn’t in her DNA. Everything fades into the non-rhythmic background—no Summer, no Malcolm (gazing at Summer), and no Fox. It’s just her, the music, and her drink. And her phone. She takes funny pictures, like up-close shots of her forehead, lips tucked in with her cheeks puffed out. More of her pretending to cry at the water so the non-existent dolphins will come back. They’re the assholes of the sea, but hey, at least they like humans.
Malcolm truly spared no expense because the boat’s Wi-Fi must have been set to Speed Racer status. Instead of posting the pictures to her main grid, she adds them to her powershots—uploads that disappear after forty-eight hours—tagging everything ~vacation vibes~ for consistency since she shares her playlist with her followers too.
The champagne goes straight to her head, leaving her feelinglight, airy, and loose. All vibes and no strife. She’s been nothing but a giant ball of functional frustration, flipping between despair and scheming so fast, it was beginning to wear her down. Being able to dance, worry-free and almost happy, to her favorite music on a beautiful boat in the middle of a magnificent lake almost made up for it. Grace was right. Trying to have a good time feelsso muchbetter.
She’s in the middle of a rather sensual move involving quite a bit of balance and divine intervention supporting her knees when the music suddenly stops. A boat similar in size to Malcolm’s approaches them from the left.
“Hey, neighbor,” someone from the intruding boat calls.
Both Malcolm and Summer opt for being friendly because of course they do. Joy slinks away to the back of the boat alone. Champagne bottle empty, she grabs some water to give her body a break. Her drinking rules are absolute: cut all the alcohol with water or alternate between the two. She’s mid-drink when inspiration for another picture strikes.
Standing close to the edge, Joy poses with a dead look in her eyes, the invading boat in clear view behind her. Perfect. She’s lightly editing when Fox quietly joins her. He leans in close but not too close. Sensing what he wants, she shows him her screen.
He snort-laughs, just as subtly as before in the car. “Nice.”
“Thank you.” Pleased, Joy uploads the photo, and then tugs on one of the straps of Fox’s life vest. “Are you really getting in the water?”
Joy’s had an ongoing love affair with the ocean since she was five, but lakes are a different story. There isn’t much that can convince her to swim in one this far away from the shore without proper diving gear.
Fox frowns. “Hopefully not.”
“Then why the jacket?”
“I don’t really know how to swim.”
Joy resists the urge to laugh. Admitting that clearly made him uncomfortable. “But Summer said you two were going to boogie board behind the boat?”
