Page 86 of One Night in Hawaii

“I think you’re a very persuasive man,” I told him.

He flashed a grin. “I hope so.”

With a skip in our step, we made our way down the dock toward my boat. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the marina. The air was crisp, and I could feel the excitement bubbling up inside me. I was about to embark on a new adventure with the love of my life, and it was going to be amazing.

As we approached my boat, I noticed that Archer had a mischievous glint in his eye. “What are you up to?” I asked.

“I’m just so damn happy,” he said. “I’m thrilled I don’t have to go back to New York anytime soon. I get to be here with you.”

After picking up some blankets and pillows from my boat, we drove to a grocery store to get stuff for dinner and breakfast in the morning.

As we walked through the aisles, Archer’s arm around my waist, I couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world. He was thoughtful and caring, and it was clear that he wanted to make our new home perfect for us.

We picked out fresh ingredients for a delicious dinner, and as we walked to the car, I felt Archer’s hand slip down to my rear. He gave it a playful squeeze, and I couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

As we drove back to our new place, the sky had turned a deep shade of blue, and the stars were starting to twinkle. Archer turned on some soft music, and we sang along to the lyrics as we drove.

When we arrived back at the house, we unloaded the groceries. We got to work on making dinner. The kitchen was small, but we worked together seamlessly, chopping vegetables and marinating meat. The smell of garlic and rosemary filled the air, and my stomach grumbled with anticipation. It was crazy to see my billionaire man in a T-shirt, shorts, and bare feet chopping veggies in an old, tiny kitchen after seeing his apartment in New York. I had marveled at the size of his closet, but it was the assortment of expensive suits hung up by color that really surprised me. There were countless dress shoes, ties, and cuff links all neatly arranged in the closet. The man that lived in Manhattan was not the same man standing in the kitchen with me. This man didn’t have any hair gel in and even had a bit of a five o’clock shadow. This was a man that had no cares in the world. He was happy.

As we ate our meal, we talked about our plans for the future. “What do you think about a light wood floor?” he asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know a lot about house stuff.”

“Can I tell you something and you promise not to laugh?”

I grinned. “I don’t know. That’s a pretty big promise.”

“I pretty much designed my apartment,” he said.

“You didn’t have a fancy interior decorator?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Well, hell, have your way,” I said, laughing. “Your apartment is gorgeous. I have no business interfering in your design choices. All I ask is you avoid the black and gray look. I love colors and beautiful art.”

“I would never ask you to live in something as clinical as a black and white home. I’m thinking light floors, something that looks almost white with the lightest blue walls. Something soothing that matches the beauty of the view. White cabinets and the typical stainless-steel appliances. This is a pretty small space, but it will look bigger with lots of bright colors. I think we should go for new windows.”

I listened to him talk and found myself in awe. He was a man of many talents. As we finished our meal, he stood up and walked over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of champagne. “Let’s celebrate,” he said, popping the cork and pouring us each a glass.

I took a sip and savored the bubbles dancing on my tongue. “What are we celebrating?”

“Us,” he said with a smile. “Our future together.”

I felt my heart swell at his words. This man, who had everything anyone could ever want, was choosing me to share his life with. It was a heady feeling.

He took my hand and led me over to the couch, sitting down and pulling me onto his lap. We sipped our champagne in silence, enjoying each other’s company and the beauty of our million-dollar view. He leaned in to kiss me, his lips soft and warm against mine. I felt my body responding to his touch, my heart racing with desire.

He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. “I want you,” he said huskily, his hand caressing my cheek.

I shivered at his words, feeling a wave of desire wash over me. “I want you too,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with need.

“I think it’s time we christen our new home.”

35

ARCHER

As I stood there, paintbrush in hand, my heart weighed down by uncertainty, I realized that my plan to propose to Shiloh when I showed her the house had crumbled under the weight of my own doubts. I had this grand plan to walk her through the front door and then propose. But I panicked. I got cold feet and backed away.

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