Page 217 of The Storm Boys Series Collection

He shuddered. “Then no. Sorry. You’re on your own.”

I laughed and pulled his face back to kiss him. “You absolutely would still love me.”

“Not if you had suction cups for feet. I absolutely would not.” He shuddered.

I laughed again, and his gaze went up to the roof. To the gentle splatter of rain, the grey skies that were no longer moving so much.

“Uh, I think the storm is over,” he whispered. “The boat’s no longer bobbing like a cork.”

I smiled at him, unwrapped my leg from his, and stroked his hair. “You okay now?”

“Your art of distraction game is strong. Thank you. I freaked out, sorry.”

I kissed him. “Don’t apologise. The first time on a boat in a storm is scary for anyone.” I sat up, my back against the seat, and he did the same opposite me, his leg resting against mine. “Are you hungry now? It’s getting late.”

“A little.”

I leaned over and pulled the Esky closer. “Mum’s pasta salad sound good?”

“Perfect.”

With the container between us and armed with a fork each, we managed to demolish half of it.

“So, can we discuss the if-I-was-a-frog thing?” I asked. “Because you’re supposed to be my prince charming, which means you’re supposed to kiss the frog to turn me into a real boy.”

“I think the real-boy storyline is Pinocchio.”

I shrugged. “Sentiment is the same.”

“Any other animal but a frog.”

“A slug?”

“Fine.”

I grinned at him. “I’d kiss you no matter what animal you were. Even if you were a face-eating lion. I’d risk it.”

“Valiant, but foolish.”

“Thanks.”

He shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth and spoke around it. “What about a praying mantis?”

“I dunno. Do they speak with their mouth full?”

He laughed and swallowed it down. “I can’t be certain. But they do rip off their mate’s head after copulation.”

I stabbed some pasta and sausage. “Are you having psychotic tendencies I should know about?”

He smiled. “No. But I’m having copulation tendencies. After you were so very kind and sweet to distract me when I thought we were about to be croc food. I was thinking I could show you my gratitude.”

I grinned at him. “Copulation tendencies and gratitude are my three favourite words.”

He took the container and our forks and slid them onto the seat behind him, then straddled my thighs. “I am very grateful for the way you look after me,” he said, tilting my chin up and kissing my lips. “And I spent all day admiring your body and your muscles and how capable you are.”

“I’m definitely buying a tool belt when we get home.”

He chuckled and undid my life vest, one slow clip at a time. I was more rushed with his, unclipping it and sliding it over his shoulders, momentarily restraining his arms at his sides and pulling him down for a hard kiss.

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