A Wild Ride (Jessica Brodie Diaries #3)(62)

As we walked up the creaking dock, William stopped. “I want to get a picture.”

I immediately looked around for someone to pass the camera off to.

“No, with you and the cruise ship.” His lips were curved into a handsome smile.

Sensing a joke, but not the punchline, I struck a post next to the cleanest spot I could find. It wasn’t saying much. The picture probably had my face next to a speckle of poop.

“Okay,” he said, stepping away.

“You want one?” I asked as I reached for the camera.

“Oh, no. That’s good enough. Okay, now step over here to the other side.”

I stepped confusedly to the other side of the dock, dodging nicely dressed couples as I did so. Here I stood in front of a beautiful, and much smaller, sleeker, and sexier yacht.

“Why do you want a picture of the yacht? Next purchase?” I asked teasingly, turning around to look at it when he stowed the camera.

“Because I want to show everyone the difference between your planning and mine.”

“Huh?”

“Jessica, we aren’t getting on that bird cage. C’mon.” He held out his hand.

“But…we have tickets...”

Utterly confused, I let him lead me away from the line waiting to get on the bay cruiser. Up ahead on the other side of the dock was the ramp to board the yacht. He led me straight to it.

“What are we—“

“Mr. Davies, Miss Brodie, welcome.” The man was medium height and wearing a nondescript white jacket. He held out his hand to me, probably intending to guide me into the floating Rolls Royce.

“William! What...?”

“I looked over the plans for the evening and decided your decision had to be overturned,” he said with a smiling playing around those kissable lips. “I am not planning on apologizing so I hope you aren’t planning to raise a fuss.”

“This is way too much, William!”

It was a nautical Gladis’s house. The dining room where we would be eating was an actual dining room. The table was big enough to fit eight comfortably, but only set for two, with lit candles, china and crystal. The ceiling was wood paneling, the windows all presently closed and covered with what looked like velvet curtains. To the side of the table was a cushy love seat that matched the curtains.

It was unreal!

I sat down and noticed William looking at me funny. If I had to put a name to it, it would have been intense love mixed with nervousness mixed with something else I couldn’t put my finger on. He probably thought I was going to fly off the handle.

Instead, I smiled in elation. “It’s beautiful.”

He smiled back. “I thought you would like it. How often do you get to do a bay cruise, after all?”

The waiter came in wearing a tux! He set out champagne immediately followed by salads. I assumed William already worked out the menu in advance, so I wasn’t going to question what I put in my mouth. William was always careful of things I hated.

Probably because I made such a scene when I had to go hungry.

“So” he said through his nervousness. Apparently he’d forgotten that I acclimated to the finer things in life pretty quickly. “We are still going to do the same cruise. When we are on the water they’ll open up the curtains so we can see out. I thought they should all be drawn now since we’re docked.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Just then the boat started moving. William gave a tiny jump, small traces of fear flashing through his eyes.

“Do I make you nervous?” I laughed.

“What?” He looked at me with surprise. “Of course not. No, I’m just in a new city, so it takes me a second to get my bearings.”

Sounded reasonable. I probably would have asked more questions if I wasn’t stuffing salad and bread into my face. I was starving!

“What other plans did you change?” I asked in between mouthfuls.

He smiled sheepishly. “I left L.A. completely to you.”

“So, what else did you change in San Francisco?” I demanded.

He laughed and leaned back in his chair. No sooner did he put down his fork then his dish was cleared away by Tux Man.

“I didn’t change much. I just wasn’t in the mood to spend my time on that cruiser. I saw the picture you emailed me and decided you were half cracked.”

Soup arrived. It was some type of carrot. Though I didn’t love carrot soup, it was absolutely delicious.

“They do up the inside, though,” I said, tearing my mind away from wondering what the next course would be. “It wouldn’t have been as bad as you’re thinking.”

He looked at me askew. I let it drop.

We chatted about random things through the five course meal, each entree coming out better than the first. It was excellent. All of it! Better than most of the restaurants I had been to in Houston. Better than Gladis’s cooks. All were original in some way, and the tastes were nothing I had tasted before.

It was shaping up to be a fantastic evening.

For the dessert course the windows were opened and lights dimmed. We had had red wine with dinner, but now the champagne was brought out again. We toasted to the good life, and I wondered how soon we could get closer.

“Speaking of,” I said, forgetting I hadn’t actually spoken that last thought out loud, “can we dance on this boat?”