Page 31 of The Billionaire's Secret Desire
I shake my head, still in disbelief. “They were showing off.”
“They knew you needed the boost.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever done anything that exhilarating in my life,” I admit, catching my breath. “That’s one for the memory books.”
Sawyer’s gaze softens. “I’m proud of you, Charli. You faced it and did it, anyway.”
I smile up at him, heart full, skin sun-warmed, and soul lit up with a rare, perfect kind of joy. “Yeah. I really did.”
He brushes a damp strand of hair from my cheek, then leans in and kisses me—slow and sweet, like a reward. I melt into it, smiling against his lips.
When he pulls back, he wraps an arm around my waist and murmurs, “Come on. Let’s go get ready for dinner. Ian and Mia will meet us at the yacht in an hour.”
Chapter 13
Sawyer
The dock glows under the golden hour light, all warm pinks and golds shimmering on the water. My yacht,The Marigold, rocks gently at its slip, already prepped by the crew and stocked for the trip across to Nassau. When Charli and I arrive, she’s practically glowing—still riding the high from parasailing, hair windblown, cheeks sun-kissed, and a smile that’s been permanently etched onto her face since we landed.
Ian and Mia are already waiting for us, standing arm-in-arm on the deck near the bow. Mia waves when she spots us, her oversized sunglasses perched on her head and a sheer white cover-up fluttering in the breeze over her bright coral dress. Ian gives a small wave, his other hand tucked casually in his pocket.
Charli beams and jogs the last few steps toward Mia, the two women immediately diving into excited chatter like they haven’t seen each other in months instead of a couple of days. They hug, link arms, and start strolling down the deck, already absorbed in some conversation that involves the words "menu inspiration" and "flower arches."
Ian watches them go with an amused shake of his head. “Mia’s been vibrating with wedding energy since the moment welanded. I swear, if I could marry her tonight and still throw the big event in two months, I would.”
I chuckle, glancing over at Charli, who’s now gesturing animatedly about something floral and culinary. “Charli seems happy, doesn't she?”
“Yeah, she does,” Ian says, then shoots me a sidelong glance, the corners of his mouth twitching like he already knows the answer to the question he hasn't asked. “You do too.” He says it with a kind of quiet certainty, like he’s not fishing—he’s confirming.
I lift an eyebrow and grin. “Is that your subtle, older-brother way of poking around in my love life? Trying to figure out what’s really going on with me and Charli?”
Ian smirks, lifting his beer bottle slightly like a toast. “Just being a nosy older brother. Comes with the territory—and honestly, I live for this shit.”
I lean against the railing, watching the sun cast a halo over the water, then glance at Ian, the breeze tugging at the edges of my shirt. “I’m taking your advice,” I say quietly, the weight of the admission anchoring the moment between us.
He squints, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Which part? The part where I said to stop overthinking, or the part where I told you to let it be messy?” He leans in. “Because honestly, I said both—and I’m not above taking full credit if this ends in a beachfront wedding and me giving an embarrassing best man speech.”
“Both,” I admit, raising an eyebrow in mock defense. “I’m letting it happen. Seeing where it goes. And yeah, maybe it’s messy. But it feels good. Real.”
Ian snorts, bumping his shoulder against mine like we’re ten again. “Damn, look at you getting all emotionally evolved. Who are you, and what have you done with my emotionally constipated little brother?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re just jealous. I’ve got better hair and emotional growth.”
Ian nods slowly, then claps a hand on my shoulder, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Good. Because I haven’t seen you like this since… well, ever. Honestly, I thought you were going to end up a rich hermit with excellent taste in scotch and terrible taste in dating apps.”
“I definitely didn’t plan on this,” I say, eyes drifting back to Charli. “But she’s not like anyone else. She’s got this spark—funny, sharp as hell, and stubborn in a way that makes me grin even when I shouldn’t. And somehow, when she’s around, I don’t feel the weight of everything. She makes the world feel softer. Like it might actually be good.”
Ian’s smile is easy, no judgment in it. “Then don’t screw it up,” he says, lifting his beer bottle again and giving me a pointed look. “Because if you do, I’m not letting you live it down. You know that, right?”
I bark a laugh, shaking my head. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I say, lifting my beer in a mock toast, trying to play it cool—but the truth is, his words mean more than I’ll admit.
“Hey, I’m rooting for you, baby brother. But just know—if you screw this up, I’ll be the first one in line to say I told you so. Lovingly, of course.”
Before I can answer, Mia calls out from the top deck, “You two coming, or are you having a bro-mantic heart-to-heart down there?”
“Little of both, babe,” Ian calls back.
Charli’s laugh echoes down to us. “Get up here, Gallo! You promised sunset drinks!”
