Page 18 of The No Falling Rule
“Good morning, Joe. Is everything ready?” Diego asks, shaking his hand. The man’s name tag readsSkipper. I guess he’s the one in charge.
“Yes, of course. We were just waiting for you and your guest,” Joe says as he turns to me with a blinding smile.
I smile back politely, excitement buzzing in my chest. I can’t wait to see where we’ll be spending the day.
“Very well, let’s get going then,” Diego announces, placing his hand on the small of my back.
A shiver races across my skin—goosebumps everywhere. His touch feels electric, like a current racing straight to my core.
As we head inside the boat, I glance around, completely mesmerized. Marble countertops, dark wood tables, soft leather seats. Everything looks clean and modern, like something straight out of a magazine.
“Is everything okay?” Diego asks, his lips almost brushing the shell of my ear.
I tilt my head to meet his gaze—those stormy blue eyes trained on me, studying, not judging. Normally, I’d shrink under that kind of scrutiny, but with him, I feel safe. It’s not curiosity, it’s connection. He just wants to get to know me.
“Yes, of course. I was just admiring how beautiful your boat is.” I hate the hint of nerves in my voice, soI busy myself tracing a finger along the polished table, pretending the view is what’s stealing my breath.
“It’s an outstanding vessel,” he says, running a hand over the sleek countertop. “But it’s not the way I’d spend my money.” He flashes me a bashful smile.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What would you rather spend your money on?” I ask, genuinely intrigued by what makes him tick.
“Why don’t I tell you while we enjoy a drink on deck?”
I brighten at the thought. “I’d love that,” I say as we head outside.
His hand never leaves my back—guiding and quietly reassuring. The sea breeze caresses my skin as the salty spray splashes the side of the boat.
When I see the setup waiting for us at the bow, I actually gasp. A small table for two sits beneath the open sky, draped in flowers, a tray of fruit and appetizers laid out beside a bucket of champagne on ice.
“It’s stunning,” I whisper, pressing my fingers to my mouth.
I didn’t want for anything growing up. I had a good childhood—love, comfort, stability. But I’ve never enjoyed this kind of luxury. And to be honest, it’s a little overwhelming.
“Hey, it’s just me,” he says softly, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger. I close my eyes, letting his words sink in.
“Diego, we’ve known each other for less than twenty-four hours… This is crazy,” I say, letting out a breath. “There’s just no way I can feel this much—be this connected with someone—so quickly.”
“Twenty-two hours, to be exact,” he says after glancing at his watch, a mischievous, but gorgeous smirk curving his lips.
I raise a brow, and he just laughs. I can’t help the smile that breaks through—he’s impossible, and he knows it.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s been one hour or ten—or a thousand. Spending time with you is my new addiction.”
I smile at the cheesiness, but he’s unfazed. His face is relaxed, void of humor.
“I mean it, Mia. I want to spend every single second I’m awake with you.” He scratches his beard and winces. “Okay, that sounded like I’m an obsessed psycho.”
A chuckle bubbles up from my belly. “Yeah, thatdidsound a little creepy.”
Before I can blink, he’s tickling my sides. I dissolve into a fit of laughter, and my knees buckle as he keeps going, relentless.
“Stop, stop—Diego, please,” I gasp, trying to catch my breath.
“Or what?” he challenges, grinning.
“This!” I reach for him, but he dodges easily, sliding his hands to my hips and lifting me into the air.
I squeal, breathless and wild. For the first time in a long time, I feel free. There’s no sister to make proud, no animals needing my care and attention. Just me, a simple woman, enjoying a holiday with an incredible man.
