Once again, I’m ordering myself to keep my mouth shut, and once again, I’m failing. “And those other things would be…？”
“Paragliding, being squeezed to death by an anaconda, and lightning bugs.”
“Lightning bugs?”
“One flew up my nose and got caught in my sinus cavity when I was at a party I wasn’t supposed to be at in high school, and you do not want to know what it took to get it out, which is really sad, because I have such great memories of chasing lightning bugs with Hyacinth at Dad’s summer camp, but now…” She blows out a breath, then looks beyond me, lifting a hand. “Excuse me, Captain. Have you ever lost anyone on a dinner cruise?”
“Only Boone Decker.”
My heart nearly stops in my chest as I turn and look at him. My mother’s gaping. Amelia too. And Charlotte looks like she’s about to pass out.
The old captain cackles. “Just yankin’ your chain, Mr. Rutherford. Ain’t ever lost anybody. Come on aboard. We’re aiming for some fun with your dinner tonight.”
“Who’s Boone Decker?” Begonia whispers. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“Founder of Rhythm Airlines,” I murmur to her. “Disappeared off the coast of France ten years ago with the authorities on his tail for insider trading.”
“Oh! He was making a joke.”
“Yes, Begonia, he was attempting to make a joke.”
“You naughty man,” my mother says to him as she accepts his help onto the gangplank to the yacht. “I sincerely hope the rest of your entertainment is less morbid.”
“I’m a sailor, ma’am, but I’ll do my best. Evening, Ms. Shawcross. Lovely dress. Color of lobsters. Gonna have to watch out for mermen jumping up into the boat tonight, won’t we? Charlotte, my dear. Glad to see you get to eat tonight too, for once.”
“We always make sure Charlotte gets what she needs, Captain Hollingsworth,” my mother says stiffly.
“Except you,” Begonia says softly to me. “Have you ever looked at Charlotte like that? Because I’m pretty sure she’s in love with you.”
“No.”
“No, you haven’t thought of her as a potential girlfriend, or no, you don’t think she’s in love with you?”
“Is this conversation helping you to get on the boat?”
She eyes the captain and the vessel.
Then she glances up at me with what I’d call a devious smile on any other woman.
On Begonia, it’s so out of place, it could be indigestion or a heart attack.
“I have a twenty stuffed into my cleavage,” she whispers. “Do you think if I slipped it to him, he’d close up the boat and leave with your mom and Amelia and Charlotte before we can get on it? We could have a picnic on the beach.”
“With what food? All the shops are closed for the evening.”
She clucks her tongue. “Such little imagination.”
When she reaches into her cleavage, I cover her hand with my own, refusing to think about my fingers brushing the swell of her breast.
She freezes.
I freeze.
Except for my cock.
My cock is most definitely not frozen.
And the way her lips have parted—not helping.
Not helping at all.
I clear my throat and snatch my hand away from her firm flesh. “It will require something larger than a twenty-dollar bill.”
“Nonsense. Captain Hollingsworth seems like a reasonable man.”
I sigh heavily. “Stay here.” I point to the dog. “You too.”
And then I stroll the rest of the way up the gangplank to the boat, about to do something I’m positive I’ll regret.
14
Begonia
Hayes touched my breast.
I know, I know, grow up, Begonia.
But this isn’t a junior high oooh, he touched your buuuuuutttttt moment.
This is a grown-up, Mr. Stiff and Proper and Cranky accidentally brushed my breast with his hand and it made goosebumps race over my skin and my nipples tight and my panties wet and none of it matters, because he rejected my proposal this morning, and now, he’s openly staring at me as we eat the Cranfords’ leftover crab cakes and the Perwinkles’ homemade bread and the Browns’ hand-picked sugar snap peas from their garden, while sitting next to a campfire on the beach.
I swipe at my mouth. “Do I have crumbs?”
“This is oddly delicious.”
He’s so adorable.
No. Stop it, Begonia. He’s aloof and cold and you cannot save him, so don’t even try.