Page 26 of Surprisingly Us

“Yes.”

Ramsey opens the door carrying a tray of my favorite hangover remedies. And he’s wearing white gloves.

“How are we feeling today?” After setting down the tray on the side table, he throws open the window shade with the zest of a Regency period servant.

“Jesus, what’s with the gloves? Have you been watchingBridgertonagain?”

“It’s customary to rewatch the previous season before the new one comes out.”

Sometimes Ramsey likes to pretend his life is different than it is. Meaning, he would prefer to have lived in the Regency period.He puts up with my shit, so whatever gets him through the work day, I don’t care.

“And when’s that? You know you can’t start the new season without me.”

He chuckles. “I got you hooked, didn’t I?”

I neither confirm nor deny his allegations.

Ramsey holds up the detox recovery supplement I usually take after a night out, but I didn’t drink much at the reception. With all the running around Lettie and I did, there wasn’t time to.

“I don’t want any of those.”

“Is it that bad? Do I need to have the IV service come?” he asks.

“No, I feel great. Not hungover at all.”

I pull on a pair of jeans, leaving the top unbuttoned, then reach for the pack of cigarettes on the counter. I pull one out before making my way onto the top deck. Ramsey follows, shooting me a dirty look as I light up.

“I have one a day. Give me a break. It’s my one indulgence.”

“Yeah, right. So, the women and booze, those are necessities?”

“I’m working on that. I hardly drank last night and there weren’t any women.”

Not exactly true. There was Lettie and we had fun, but not the kind I’m used to.

I take a deep inhalation of my cigarette, loving the way the nicotine hits my blood stream, when I spy a woman and her two kids walking down the dock.

“That man doesn’t have a shirt on. And he forgot to button his pants.”

The woman glares at me while covering her child’s eyes.

Ramsey sighs. “Why do you insist on antagonizing the neighbors?”

“I’m in my house and it’s not like I’m naked.”

“Technically it’s a boat and the deck is equivalent to a balcony, so you’re notinsideyour house.”

“Semantics.” I lean against the deck railing and close my eyes, loving the warmth of the sun on my face.

While a hundred-foot yacht isn’t the most practical living space, it’s the only one I’ve kept in the city and I like being able to sit outside to enjoy the fresh air.

Ramsey dramatically waves his hand to fan a puff of smoke away, indicating that the air isn’t technically fresh.

He clears his throat. “There’s a picture from last night.”

My head jerks in his direction. “What do you mean? I was on my best behavior.” Okay, maybe pulling Lettie into my lap instead of moving up front with Wanda wasn’t gentlemanly, but if that’s my only indiscretion then I deserve a fucking gold star.

He extends his phone out to me.

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