Page 102 of Away We Go

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you could do anything else, what would you do?”

“Hmm.” He rests his spoon next to his now-empty bowl and rubs the back of his neck. It’s like I’ve asked him a question no one’s ever asked before. “I think I’d do something with my hands.”

My gaze flickers to said hands and I take in a silent gulp. His hands are strong and veiny—a masterpiece.

“Such as?” I garble out some words, mentally fanning myself.

“Like a landscape gardener, or something like that.” His cheeks are tinged pink and I wonder at it.Is he embarrassed by this answer?

“I think you’d be great at that. Your garden at home is amazing.”

His eyes flare at my use of the word ‘home.’ “Thanks, but I can take zero credit for that. I helped design it but am never home long enough to nurture it.”

Ah yes, that makes sense.

Rachel clears our soup bowls and serves the main course. Lobster tails with a buttery sauce.Oh boy, I’m in culinary heaven.

“Thanks,” Nicky smiles at her and she titters. “What about you?” He turns his attention back to me. “Are you doing your dream job?”

I nibble at my food, giving it some thought. “I guess I enjoy most of what I do. Being part of this team and travelling the world with you guys is like a dream come true. I’m just wondering if I could be…more?”

His eyes hold mine hostage. “But what you are and what you do, is enough.”

My heart squeezes. How many times had I wished Troy would say something like that, and how many times he had said the opposite? In one short sentence, Nicky had soothed a part of me I hadn’t known was still sore.

“Thanks,” I whisper, blinking away tears. “But you know, everyone can do more. I was thinking of developing Cherry’s Corner into a podcast or something on YouTube. Doing candid interviews in the paddock with the drivers and pit crew. Butinstead of asking them about F1, I’ll ask them about their favourite movies and their childhood pets. Things like that.”

His answering grin is excited. “I love that idea. The drivers get so tired of talking about racing. You should start with Nate. He’d happily spend all day talking about cricket.”

I scrunch my nose.Ew. Cricket.“I mean, that sounds…”

“Boring?” His laughter booms loudly in the silent ocean air. “Yeah, just don’t tell him that.”

We sink into a happy silence as Rachel places the last course in front of us. An exquisitely light and fluffy chocolate mousse. This meal has been chef’s kiss.

“What do we do now?” I ask as Rachel clears the table and leaves us alone.

Nicky stares out into the ocean beyond the yacht, before getting up and walking to the edge of the deck. The sky, now a deep navy colour peppered with sparkling bright stars, is a perfect backdrop for the man leaning against the railing. And like he’s a beacon, I follow him until we’re standing side-by-side, arms brushing against each other. We stand in silence, both watching gentle waves lapping up against the marina and I wonder what’s going to happen next. It feels like all our moments have led us here.

“It’s so peaceful,” I say softly.

He turns his face towards me, his eyes tracing a path from my eyes to my lips and back up again, a muscle bouncing in his cheek as he swallows hard.

“Cherry—” He stops and I lean closer.

“Yes?”

He turns to face me fully and I see hesitation flash across his face.

“Cherry—” he starts and stops again.

I sway towards him, brushing my chest against his and swallow a sigh as his strong hands cradle my face, his thumbs caressing my cheekbones. I watch, not breathing as his lips inch closer, his nose softly nudging mine. We stand like this, suspended in time, breathing each other in and then ever so slowly he leans down further and presses his lips against mine.

Nicky is kissing me.

Finally.

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