Page 37 of Sparks Fly
The driver steps out, all dressed smartly and I duck into the back of the car that he has opened for me. I thank him as he closes the door.
Tapping my fingers on my bare thigh, my stomach is in knots. I have no idea why I agreed to this.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
Maybe I shouldn’t have let Rue influence me.
Sighing, I avert my gaze out the window, the sparkling lights whizz past me and my stomach only tightens as we approach the marina.
We roll to a halt, and the driver is out the car and letting me step out.
“This way, miss.”
I step out onto the cobbled ground and try to not let my wedge slip. The driver gives me a cautious look, and I return it with a nod. He closes the door behind me and leads me onto the decked area where the extravagant yachts are moored up, my eyes widening as we pass them.
“Mr Lexington is just up here,” he says softly and I smile.
He is older, probably around the same age as Creed, maybe a few years difference. Blonde, grey eyes, pale skin, he’s suited and booted with a hat.
His steps falter as we approach a mega yacht that stands out from the rest. I glance at the name and then let my eyes wander to the boat in front of me. This was bigger than my apartment back home. I mean, it wasn’t hard. It wasn’t huge but the open plan layout helped it feel bigger than what it was. This boat was fancy, and large. Very, very large.
“Miss?” The driver pulls me from my thoughts, and I blink a couple of times.
Following behind him, he leads me to the entrance of the boat, and I am greeted by Creed with a wide smile. He still looks as handsome as he did when he walked out the door.
“Glad you came.” He holds his hand out for me to take and I do, gladly.
My palm fits into his perfectly and the spark that courses through me has me pulling it away a little quicker than I would have liked.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I advert my gaze from his green eyes and drop them to the floor.
I watch as his feet step back and I simultaneously follow.
“Drink?” he asks as I move further onto the boat, and finally, I lift my eyes and look around.
“Please.” My voice is quiet and timid, and I know I am okay to be here but I also feel wrong for accepting.
“This yacht is…”
“It’s something, right?”
“Yup.” I sigh and follow him towards the seating area at the back of the boat.
An older lady walks over with a fresh glass of chilled champagne, and I thank her before pulling out my camera.
“Okay to get some content? My followers would love this,” I say with a small smile on my face and he nods, his eyes not lifted from mine for even a second.
“Of course, maybe just don’t get me in the shots, hm?” His brow raises, and my cheeks burn pink.
“Of course.” I place the camera on the table and then bring the champagne flute to my lips, taking a mouthful. The golden liquid slips down my throat, the bubbles teasing my tastebuds before dissolving on my tongue. I take another mouthful. “Why don’t you stay on the boat?” My question escapes me and my eyes widen.
“I could.” He lifts a shoulder, eyes batting down to his own glass, his long finger tapping on the side of it. “But I prefer sleeping on land.” He gives me a wink and I nod, my throat tight.
“Makes sense.” I nod again.
Silence crackles around us and I find myself looking out towards the marina, the soft lights twinkling in the distance, the calmness of the ocean surrounding us.
“Did you get your editing done?” he asks as he shuffles forward.
