Page 89 of South of The Skyway

“Nope!” Ahh, there it was. Couldn’t take the man anywhere without him finding friends. Seriously, we’d gone to the farmers market, and he’d filled his phone with contacts like he’d arrived to collect people rather than produce. “We just spoke over the phone. Debbie, this is Brexley. Brex, meet Debbie.”

Accepting the woman’s shake, I did my best to mime a smile, trying not to suffocate in the crowd of bustling bodies. It wasn’t even summer yet—a thought that had me internally groaning. “Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine. Now, if you two will follow me,” she said, motioning with some secret implication behind her.

I tugged on Rhyett’s hand, dropping my voice. “We’re following a stranger through a festivalwhy…?”

“Come on, Ace.” Okay, sometimes the smile was just obnoxious. How the fuck was I supposed to say no tothat? Had the bay not been overflowing with boats, I might have fancied a swim over either of their company. Regardless of my need to strip the sticky sweat from my skin, I followed in his wake, cursing the grin that would make me do anything shy of prancing in front of a crowd in my skivvies.

“Rhyett,” I hissed under my breath as he all but dragged me, zig-zagging between bodies in various degrees of celebration or exhaustion. Screaming children were melting onto the pavement—rightly so—while musicians played loudly across the packed promenade. “What are we doing?”

“Come on, Ace,” he repeated simply, squeezing my fingers.

“I am coming,” I said back, a bit louder than intended. Rhyett smirked back at me, somehow glorious in the thin sheen of sweat across his golden skin, whereas I felt like a drowned rat. The heat in his eyes told me I was in trouble.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

Oh fuck, that was louder than strictly necessary. Eyes singed my skin everywhere. While that was probably just crowd anxiety, I couldn’t help the way my flesh tingled with the buzz of activity. When Rhyett stopped, he did it so suddenly I nearly slammed into his broad back. But then he turned, pressing a kiss to my forehead and motioning me to follow Debbie, the stranger, onto…oh my God.

She had just walked up a gangplank on what could only be described as a ship fromPirates of The Caribbean. My mouth fell open as I watched Debbie's black kitten heels vanish onto the boat's bright deck.

“Rhyett,” I whispered, like my confusion was somehow top secret. “What on Earth is going on?”

“Go find out, beautiful,” he said simply, jerking his chin towards the plank. I narrowed my eyes, a tangle of fear and thrill in my chest. Was this a boat tour? What was happening? Opting to trust him, I sucked down a breath and walked up the ramp, resisting the screaming urge to throw my arms out like wings for balance.

“I’ve got you, baby.” Rhyett’s voice skimmed along my ear, tickling my neck. Like he saw the fear in my body as I eyed the splashing waves below us and wanted to reassure me. His hand came to hover at my low back, sending warmth and a jolt of confidence through my belly.

When we reached the top of the plank, he moved up beside me, except I was too preoccupied with trying to make sense of what I was seeing. The deck had been strung with bright bulb lights overhead, swaying gently in the breeze, and with twinkle lights up the masts and across the rails. The tables were scattered across the space, with white linen cloths and crystal wine glasses, a single red rose bejeweling each vase in the center.

“Welcome to our dinner cruise,” Debbie said proudly, motioning to the tables. “You can take your pick, Mr. Rhodes.”

“Thanks, Debbie, everything looks amazing.” Rhyett nodded politely before pulling me to the front of the boat.Gaping. I was still gaping. When he pulled the black chair out for me to sit, a nervous laugh broke free.

“Oh, you’re good,” I said conspiratorially. “Nicely done, sir.”

“I thought some distance from the crowd would be more your speed.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“That’s close enough to being right for me.”

I laughed, shaking my head and running my fingers through my hair, wishing I’d had a second to refresh for him. When the waiter arrived with ice water and a chilled bottle of house champagne, I held it together long enough to cover my mouth and try not to hyperventilate.

His laughter was warmer than the last rays of sunshine peeking through the clouds on the horizon. “Is that good panic, or I’m a despicable bastard that needs to get you off the damn boat panic?”

“Good,” I breathed. “I’ve never been on a pirate ship,” I squeaked, staring up at the enormous, billowing black sails.

“What do you think?”

“So far, so good. I like how soft the bobbing is, hopefully it won’t ruin dinner. It’s so…big.” His arched brow had me rolling my eyes. “The boat, smartass.”

“Oh good, I was going to say—decorum, Brexley.” He reached for the champagne, pouring us each a flute.

“Har har har.” I shook my head. “What is all this, Rhyett?” I gestured to our beautiful surroundings.

“Your birthday dinner.”

That brought me up short, breath halting as my lips popped open. “It’s not my birthday,” I said softly.

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