Page 36 of From West, With Regret

“Just make sure you don’t get burned,” Holt mutters. “Might ruin your day.”

“Trust me.” She taps her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “The only thing that could ruin my day is if I find myself staring at Rome Montgomery’s smug face.”

“Oh.” Holt lowers his cards into his lap and looks over his shoulder to Julianna. He gives her a mock wince. “Did you not want me to invite him? Shit.”

Julianna’s expression immediately shifts. Her eyebrowsslant, and her cheeks redden. “What?” The ‘t’ at the end of her word ends with incredible sharpness.

“Yeah.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “He’s actually below deck changing right now.”

“What the fuck, Holt?” Her nostrils flare. “Are you kidding me?”

She looks at me and Asher for clarification, but we don’t give her any, even though we know Holt is just giving her shit. Rome isn’t here.

“No,” Holt says, continuing as if he’s still playing our game of poker, but none of us have taken a turn. “Areyoukidding me, Julianna? You nearly chopped my head off the last time I invited him somewhere. Do you honestly think I’m that stupid to do it again?”

Julianna’s shoulders drop with relief. “Wow. Okay.” A small smile plays on her lips as she turns around and joins Selene by the table. “That’s a relief. You know, I wish luck to whatever woman you end up with.”

“I don’t plan on getting married any time soon. Leave that to these two horny teenagers,” he mutters, nodding toward Charleigh and Asher.

I’m watching the whole scenario unfold when I hear London giggle while watching Charleigh and Asher.

Asher lifts his hand and tucks Charleigh’s hair behind her ear. He whispers something that causes her grin to widen.

London is watching them with a tiny smile playing on her lips. Selene and Julianna aren’t even paying attention to them, instead heading down to the lower deck. The bottom deck of the yacht stretches out to a large rope net to lay out on. Selene and Julianna slip out of their sandals and take off their bathing suit cover ups to stretch out in the sun.

Holt slams his hand down on the table. “Fuck this game.” He stands and swallows down the rest of his beer, eyes trainedon the two women below. He flicks his gaze to me. “I’m going to talk to the captain to get this ship sailed.”

I laugh. “This isn’t a ship, but all right.”

Holt cracks a smile, finding humor in my joke.

He disappears to the upper deck, and I turn my attention to London. The midday sun shines down on her from where she’s sitting on the bench. Its rays reflect off her golden bikini top. I chew on the inside of my cheek, wondering how I’m going to spend the rest of this day looking at her with restraint. She’s different today.

She’s watching her two best friends below, with her forearm resting on the metal railing.

Asher is showing something to Charleigh on his phone. They both seem to be in their own bubble, so I leave them and join London.

I sit beside her as the yacht pulls away from the pier, leaving the city behind, close enough to where my knee touches her thigh. Although the bench faces the opposite direction, we’re both twisted to look out at the water.

London glances at me with a satisfied grin before turning her attention back to the water. The increasing breeze catches her black hair. She has it twisted into a high, messy bun piled on the top of her head, but I find myself jealous of the stray hairs dancing across the skin of her cheeks.

She leans forward and rests her chin on her forearm.

With stolen breath and a burning chest, I force myself not to stare too long. We’re definitely crossing into territory outside of work. None of this is normal for the type of relationship we should be having, but that’s all we’ve done these past weeks: pretend as though that’s what we are.Normal.

Instead, I focus on the water as we continue to head toward the ocean.

We sit in silence until I finallydecide to break it.

“Still think you might need that bucket?” I ask her, laughing under my breath. “I don’t know if there’s one on the boat, but I can search for one if you need it.”

She doesn’t look nauseous, just happy. She giggles and rolls her head to the side, never lifting her chin. The sun reflects off her gray eyes.

“No. I think we’re safe. At least for now.”

“Good.” I grin so large, my cheeks hurt. Fuck, I don’t think this woman has any clue how much she owns me.

One look. One laugh from her beautiful mouth. That’s all it takes for me to fall to my knees. I love seeing her happy. Unlike the day of the funeral or the day she’d shown up at The Veiled Door with her torn portfolio.

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