Rock the Boat (22 page)

“No offense, Lincoln, but we just met. And after what happened, I don’t even trust myself right now. My judgement has been clouded the entire trip.”

He shrugs his shoulders and smirks. “Sometimes you have to take a chance or you’ll never find out what you’ve been missing.”

“As beautifully poetic as that was, it’s not the reason I’m getting on this thing.”

“But you’re getting on, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I climb onto the truck and even though I have it on my own, Lincoln still places his hand on my ass, nudging me along. Once I’m in my seat, he climbs in next to me, taking the end seat closest to the road. He reaches over and scoots me closer to him so our bodies are touching from shoulder to thigh. He wraps his arm around me and instead of melting into his touch the way I would with Easton, I go stiff as a board.

“What are you thinking, babe?”

That I want to push you off this truck and run back to the ship
. Of course I don’t say that, so I play coy instead. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

He mistakes my comment for more than it is, and leans even closer to me. In fact, he’s so close, I can feel him inhale and exhale against my skin. “I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge, Lark.”

I slide a little closer to the person next to me, putting as much distance in between the two of us as possible. Lincoln notices, but he doesn’t drag me closer. He simply rests his open hand on my thigh, squeezing me just above the knee. He keeps it there even as we start moving away from the port.

With little to look at other than Lincoln or the head in front of me, I begin to wonder why I thought this was a good idea. We’ve been together for half an hour tops, and already I’m making a list of his faults. Noelle’s an easy going girl. If she couldn’t find even the slightest bit of compatibility with Lincoln, I’m not sure why I thought I’d be able to.

Once we’re around the first bend, Lincoln adjusts his hand on my leg, trailing higher and higher up my thigh. I cover his hand with mine, letting him know he’s gone far enough. “You’re so tense, Lark. Loosen up a little.”

“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.”

“I get it. It’s been rough because we’ve been pursuing the wrong people, but I’m glad the letters came before it was too late for us.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “It’s all out in the open now.”

He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride, and I’m thankful. I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t even notice the beauty surrounding me until Lincoln helps me off the truck. And once I get a glimpse it takes my breath away. Water the color of turquoise, sand that’s almost completely white, and a sky full of fluffy clouds makes Magen’s Bay heaven on Earth.

“What do you think?”

“The water—wow.” It’s so clear I’m positive no matter how far I ventured in, I’d still be able to see my freshly manicured toes beneath the surface. It’s calm, serene, free of waves, and looks like a pool rather than an ocean. “I don’t even know what to say. This is beautiful.”

I’m still memorized by the water, but Lincoln’s staring at me as he says, “Beautiful is the same word I would use.” His compliment makes me blush and for a minute, I wonder if I have Lincoln all wrong.

“I’ll never forget coming here as long as I live.”

“If you stick with me, you’ll see every inch of this world. Spots even better than this one—they’re out there. I’ve seen a lot of them.”

I’m not ready to make plans for the future with Lincoln, but the idea of discovering places I’ve only dreamed about or got a taste of from the Internet, excites me. The brochures I looked at on the ship didn’t do Magen’s Bay an ounce of justice. It has me wondering if the same goes for the rest of the world.

“Come on, Lark. You’ll like it even more once we get down this path.”

I let him lead the way, trailing behind him. With every step I take, my flip-flops kick up hot sand and toss it on the backs of my legs. The farther we venture, the hotter the sand becomes until it’s so unbearable, I have to let go of Lincoln’s hand and run toward the water.

Lincoln’s laughing when he finally catches up to me. “Relief?”

“Yes, I wasn’t even barefoot and they’re burnt.”

“I’ll rub them for you once we lie down.”

I could be a foot rub kind of girl with the right guy, but nothing about Lincoln rubbing my feet turns me on. No butterflies, no tingles—nothing. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be even hotter lying on top of the sand. Maybe we should just stay right here.”

He turns his head and points about fifty yards down the beach. “One of those cabanas over there has our name on it.”

“You rented one for the day?”

“I thought the privacy would be nice—so we can get to know each other a little better.”

I swallow, unprepared for alone time with Lincoln. Physically, he’s one of the best looking guys on this beach. His perfectly styled blond hair compliments his green eyes. The muscles straining under his tank are sexy, but every time I look at him, my brain tricks itself into thinking my eyes will land on Easton. And each time I don’t see Easton’s ink or his dark hair that flops into his eye if he tilts his head too far forward, I’m disappointed.

Still, I let Lincoln take my hand, hoping that once we have time to sit down and get to know each other, all the pieces I’m trying so hard to feel will effortlessly fall into place. If it happened once, surely it can happen again.

He ducks under the awning of the cabana, pulling me inside with him. It’s hotter inside, but the fans blowing from each corner make it seem a little cooler. Without them, I’m positive we’d suffocate.

“This is nice.”

He reaches behind his head, pulling his shirt up and over. His back flexes, muscles popping out all over the place until his skin is completely exposed.
It’s hot. He’s hot. Shit.

I only drool more when he unbuttons his shorts and begins to pull them down over his hips. The fantasy ends when he reveals one of the smallest bathing suit bottoms I’ve ever seen on a man. It’s like a cold bucket of water was poured over my head, drowning my libido.

“What do you think?” he asks, as he closes some of the distance between us.

He has to be joking. That’s what this is—a test. “It’s an interesting choice. It’s very European.”

“Right? My stylist had it made especially for this trip. He works with all the top designers in Milan, Paris, and New York.”

Another red flag rises. “You have a stylist?”

“He mostly works for my mother, but he’s available to the entire family. That includes you, if you come back home with me.”

I take a step back from him. He needs to slow down. You don’t talk about forever on a first date, at least not in my prior experiences. “I don’t even know where you’re from.”

“We live in Cape Cod, but travel a lot. My father owns a yacht manufacturing company and does business all over the world. Growing up, I spent more time at sea than I did on dry land. That’s what I meant when I said I can take you anywhere you want to go.” He flops down in the center of the bed complete with sheets, pillows, and rose petals. I know for a fact these rentals don’t come with rose petals. I saw it in the brochure. Lincoln must have more money than he knows what to do with.

“Sounds like you’ve led a very privileged life.” I sit down beside him on the edge of the bed like he might bite me if I get too close. I can’t get a good read on him. One minute he says something sweet, and the next he gives off creepy vibes. Maybe he’s trying too hard to impress me or maybe he thinks I need fancy things in my life. But I’m not that kind of girl. Everything I have, I work hard for, and I’m okay with that.

“It’s been good,” he agrees. “Come rest with me.”

I never had a problem cozying up to Easton, but nothing about being here with Lincoln feels as natural as it did with him. I can’t cuddle, but I lie on my side beside him with my head propped up on my hand. “What else do you want to talk about?”

He rolls onto his stomach and looks me straight in the eyes. “I want to know everything, anything, and then some. You can go first. Ask me anything, I’m an open book.”

It doesn’t surprise me that he wants to talk about himself some more. From what I’ve seen, he’s pretty good at it. I would have thought he’d at least ask where I’m from, or what I do for a living, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and wait until it’s his turn. I even help him out when I ask, “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m signed with a modeling agency in New York City, but when I’m not making an ad look good, I’m working with hedge funds and other investments. My trust fund lets me play around which is fun. We all need something to occupy our time on a rainy day, right?”

“I usually watch a movie on rainy days, but I thought you said you lived in Cape Cod.”

“I do, but I have a penthouse in the city, too. I’m back and forth a lot. I can’t be expected to stay in a hotel all the time. Plus, I’d miss Bernie’s cooking.”

“Oh,” I respond quietly, his copious amounts of money suddenly making my much smaller paycheck feel insignificant. I’m proud of my work and my job, but I can’t compete with a guy who tosses money around for fun. “Who is Bernie?”

“She’s the housekeeper in Cape Cod. Bernie’s short for Bernadette.”

I pull my sunglasses off the top of my head, and toss them in my bag. He’s making me sleepy with his story telling, so I rest my head on the pillow beside me. Lincoln takes the opportunity to move a little closer, reaching out and running his finger along the length of my cheek. “I haven’t asked you a single question, I’m sorry.”

And there it is again—his softer, sweeter side. “That’s okay.”

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“Thank you.”

“My friends would lose their minds if I came home with you. They were convinced my perfect match was some older woman with a small rack.” He glances at my chest and smirks. “I’d love to prove them wrong. What do you say we send them a selfie?”

“What? I look terrible. It’s hot out here and I’m sweating.”

“I just told you you’re smokin’. Plus, your hair’s a little messy. They’ll think we did it.” He hops off the bed, digs around in his man purse, probably also picked out by his stylist, and pulls out his smartphone. He aims it at me, but pauses. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“Why do you keep asking me to repeat myself?”

“Because I think you’ve lost your mind.”

“You have a suit on, don’t you? It’s not like you’re naked.”

Reluctantly, I pull my cover-up over my head, and Lincoln drops his phone on the bed the second my boobs are in plain sight, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. It makes me feel cheap and suddenly I don’t want my picture taken anymore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I want you.”

He may love his yachts, back account, and expensive life, but it’s not what I’m looking for. Perfect Match or not, Lincoln is never going to be mine. That much I’m certain.

“Come on, baby, smile for daddy.”

Is he fucking serious?
I stand up, grab my bag and slide my feet in my sandals. “I’m not your
baby
. And my
daddy
is back home in Delaware.”

I’m almost out of the cabana when he grabs my bag and pulls me back inside. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to take pictures. I’m not the best at this—usually my dates are set up for me and all I have to do is show up and put out. I’m not exactly used to trying.”

“What are you saying? You
use
escorts or you
are
an escort?”

“No, babe. I don’t have to pay for dates. They’re all daughters or nieces of men my father does business with. I’m simply told where I need to go and her name. That’s about it.”

“That sounds miserable and about as unromantic as it gets. Don’t you want to live your own life? Make your own choices?”

“Honestly? Not really. I have it made and as long as I keep my parents happy, I’m set for life. That’s why I’m here. Mom said this might work out in my favor. Clearly, she was right—I met you.”

I don’t want to bring my best friend into this, but I can’t walk out of here until I ask him. “What was wrong with Noelle?”

“Just about everything. She’s cute, funny even, but she’s not a ten like you are, Lark. And I need to go home with a ten. I go to a lot of charity functions and get my picture taken a lot. I need someone like you on my arm.”

“Do you think you’re a ten, Lincoln?”

He smirks, moving closer to me again. “You tell me, babe. Do you see a ten when you look at this body?” He runs his hand over his chest and down his stomach before reaching for my waist and pulling me closer to him.

I can’t get his hands off me fast enough, so I push him away. He stumbles backward, shocked that I just shoved him. “When I look at you, all I see is a small minded person wearing an even smaller bathing suit that’s probably covering an even smaller dick. Nothing about you is attractive. In fact, I think you’re disgusting.”

“You little bitch,” he barks back as I storm out of the cabana. “You have no idea who I am, Lark.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I don’t plan on sticking around to find out either.”

“Where are you going? We’re miles away from the ship.”

“I need a minute.” Somewhere in his pea-sized brain he must believe I’m coming back because he turns around and lets me leave. It’s not that I want him to chase me, but if he were Easton, he would have. Then again, I never would have said those things to Easton in the first place. His heart never felt cold, self-righteous, or conceded despite his success.

Once I’m free of Lincoln, I run toward the water, the sand scorching my feet all over again. I’m angry at Lincoln for being such an asshole, but I’m angry with myself even more. I shouldn’t be on this date. I shouldn’t be walking into an ocean I’m scared of because I have no place else to go. But once my overheated skin touches the salty water, all the tension I’m harboring seeps out of me. All the confusion is pushed aside by an overwhelming dose of clarity—I have feelings for Easton. Feelings that go beyond the physical. I care about him, and I miss him.

I’m so lost in thought, I don’t realize I’m wading outside the designated swimming area until the soft, sandy bottom drops off, sucking me underneath the surface. I kick my legs as hard as I can, trying everything I can to keep my head above the water, but the slap against my leg that lights my entire body on fire has me screaming out in pain.