One to Chase (One to Hold 7)

Large hand at his waist, he doesn’t make any advances, only turns to the door. “I’ll meet you tomorrow. Just tell me where and when.” Stopping he glances back, and I can tell he’s watching for signs of weakness. “Paul and Chris don’t work on the weekends. It’s part of our agreement. Family time.”

“Of course,” I nod.

He waits, and I know it’s for my answer about where. If we meet alone tomorrow, we’ll have sex. It’s that simple. At least I’m honest with myself about it. We need to be somewhere very public, lots of people and no secluded spots.

“Well... I had wanted something relaxed,” I say, stalling. “What about Millennium Park? Maybe with the Cloud Gate sculpture?”

“The Bean?” He frowns.

“It’s a famous attraction, and it’ll give us dramatic images.”

His expression changes. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“Okay...?”

“Meet me at the Belmont Harbor. Say, noon?”

A quick mental rundown—sounds safe enough. “We can shoot along the pier with the sailboats in the background.” Nodding, I start to collect my things. “I love it.”

He calls over his shoulder as he heads down the hall. “Wear a swimsuit. And remember, no black soles on the boat.”

“Wait—” Hustling around the long conference table, I step out into the hallway. He’s gone. “Great.” I collapse against the doorjamb.

Being on a sailboat alone with Marcus is not a good idea. With a groan, I walk back to the large wooden table holding my stuff and pick up my phone.

We’re going on a sailboat? I text.

His reply is quick, as if he expected my message. You wanted relaxed.

Chewing my lip, I try to think of an alternate plan. Nothing’s coming to mind, and I already said I loved his idea. You tricked me.

Afraid?

Of course not. Oh, yeah. I’m lying.

Good. See you at lunchtime.

Now all I can do is pray for rain.

Chapter 10: On a Boat

Marcus

Amy flitted around the office all week avoiding me, leaving my door open, turning down my invitations to lunch. She’s made a complete one-eighty from yes we can be together, no strings, to stay the fuck away. I know why, and I have every intention of exploiting my advantage. I know what she wants—I just have to gently lead her to accepting it.

It’s a perfect day on the lake. Dad has a light-blue Azuree 33 cruiser. It’s his hobby-boat—Merrit * Ocracy—a thirty-foot, three-cabin bowsprit, and the love of his life. I can’t say I blame him. I’m onboard at nine with enough supplies to last through Sunday. Yes, I have more in mind than photography. Again, you’re smart.

Conditions couldn’t be better—clear skies, winds at seven to ten knots. The waves will be calm enough for photography, but we should get enough speed to have fun. In the cabin below, I stash two bottles of wine, one sparkling, chicken salad from Stella’s, strawberries from Sherry’s and for fun, cold Lou Malnati’s pizza. Bottled water and coffee are on-hand of course.

Dropping my duffel in the extra bedroom, I unzip it and pull out two shirts and a box of condoms just in case. We graduated past safety pretty fast, but I don’t want to give her any potential excuses.

“Permission to come aboard!” The sound of her voice makes me ready to get as far from shore as quickly as possible.

“Coming up.” A sturdy silver ladder leads from the cabins below to the deck, and the sudden breeze pushes my white blazer open. I pulled on long pants, but I didn’t bother with a shirt.

It was the right call. Amy’s green-hazel eyes widen a bit, but she covers. Come on, beautiful, we’re past pretending not to notice each other.

“Permission granted.” I smile and reach for her hand. She’s wearing cropped jean shorts that put her long, tanned legs on full display, and a long-sleeved grey Henley with a wide neck showing off her beautiful shoulders. Her hair hangs over one in a loose braid, and I spy an aqua swimsuit strap peeking at her collar.