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Rows and rows of pristine white catamarans, sailboats, and yachts line the docks, with restaurants along the shoreline. Her face brightens and eyes widen while she glances from side to side, taking in the marinaand tropical landscaping. A large, red-roofed building welcomes us as we arrive. The sky slowly changes as it cascades us in its golden hue.

“What are we doing here, Tristan?” she whispers in wonderment.

“Thought I’d surprise you with a sunset cruise. It’s one of the resort's top excursions.” Pausing to run my fingers through my hair, my nerves spike. “I thought we could be tourists for the night.”

Her face softens as curiosity morphs into something I can’t quite put my finger on. Jayden parks the BMW, and his eyes find mine in the rearview mirror. With a nod and a quick thanks, I step out of the car and move around the back to open Kennedy’s door. When I reach inside, she takes my hand, and I ignore the electricity that sparks every time our hands brush. Only this time, I watch her features and see the moment she realizes there’s a connection between us.

Hmm, she does feel this too.

Long, golden legs slip out of her slit as she exits the vehicle, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. She looks stunning, but that’s nothing new. Kennedy might have come from a small town in the middle of nowhere, but you would never guess that based on the way she dresses and carries herself.

Once she rights her dress, her hand slips from mine. Instantly, I find myself missing our warm connection. Sliding my hands in my pockets, I use the distraction to keep myself from reaching for her again.

We fall instep beside each other as we make our way toward the waiting catamaran. The pathway is a mixture of concrete and weathered wood. With each step, the weathered planks from years of salt and sun leave us with a symphony of creaks, telling us a tale from years of footsteps.

Briny sea air fills our noses, the perfume of the sea mingling with the mouth-watering scent of fresh grilled seafood from the local eateries. But it’s the light floral fragrance that has my senses buzzing. Sweet orchid and citrus mix with the marina aromas, and it can only be coming from one person.

Sounds of seagulls and the water lapping against the hulls of boats surround us, along with chatter from radios and men on board. Through the speakers lining the pathway attached to the lampposts is a soft island melody. The atmosphere is a soothing backdrop as we continue our walk until we find the resort’s catamaran.

“This marina is beautiful.” Her comment pulls me from my assessment.

Finally, we find ourselves outside of our catamaran. A young woman waits for us on the cobblestones.

“Good evening and welcome aboard. We are so excited to have you joining us,” she greets.

After a few minutes of pleasantries and her explaining the events for the evening, we step aboard the shiny, pristine fiberglass. The boat is in immaculate condition, not a watermark in sight. Making our way through the helm, we climb a few stairs before we’re on the foredeck.

A member of the crew welcomes us with two glasses of chilled champagne.

“Thank you,” Kennedy and I say in unison as we each take a glass. With a brief nod, the crew member leaves us alone. There aren’t any seats on the deck, only two large netted trampolines in front of us. Kicking off her sandals, Kennedy steps down onto the trampoline and sits on the fiberglass deck.

Within minutes, we’re setting sail over the glass-like blue water. “Please tell me you’ve been on a boat.”

She scoffs. “I’ve been on a boat. My grandparents had a farm with a five-acre pond. We used to go out on their pontoon boat, but it was nothing like this.” Pausing, she gestures around us. “It was pretty much a floating dock. I remember we all had to grab plastic chairs from the deck and bring them down if we wanted to sit. Otherwise, we sat on the floor.”

“I’ve never heard more of a country bumpkin story in my life.”

“Yeah, well, not all of us have the luxury to vacation on yachts.”

With only the island melodies coming from the speakers, silence falls over us. Truth is, I would give anything to have a simpler life. I wasn’t kidding when I told her that owning an outfitter was my dream job growing up.

Not wanting to waste any time, I nudge her shoulder, and she stares up at me under her long, black lashes.

“That was rude.”

“It was.” She chuckles.

Staring out in front of us, I watch as we slice through the water, causing splashes of waves to come up over the side of the hull.

“Why New York?”

I can tell I catch her off guard with the way her body stiffens. Turning to face me, she assesses me for a moment before releasing a sigh. “I needed to get out of the country. Don’t get me wrong, I never hated living in a small town, but I always wanted more.”

Hitching an eyebrow, I wait for her to elaborate. She brings the flute to her lips and takes a long pull.

“There’s a certain pressure that comes from living in a small town,” she says, averting her gaze. “You go to school, graduate, marry your high school sweetheart, and have babies. I’m not knocking anyone who chooses to do that, but the idea of marrying young and popping out a slew of babies never struck my fancy. Growing up and watchingFriends, I wanted to be like Rachel Green.”

“What do you mean?”