When I get married, I will require all aspects of the ceremony take place on dry land. Nothing better than solid ground under your feet when making any kind of commitment. Or when doing anything for that matter.
For instance, this yacht is doing its best to hinder my ability to perform the simplest of tasks. Like walking.
The instant I stepped from the relative security of the dock onto this luxurious watercraft, my legs forgot how to stay steady. Perpetual sea legs. Or land legs. Whatever the problem is, I know it won’t go away. I stumble to the closest seat I can find, which turns out to be a booth in the boat’s interior near the buffet.
“Hey!” Paige settles beside me. My best friend brushes aside a stray blonde curl as she stares into my eyes. “How are you doing? Have you been falling over? Do you have bruises yet? I’m sorry about the boat. Since this party is mainly for all Mom and Dad’s friends I didn’t want to invite to the actual wedding, I figured I’d let my parents choose the place. I never thought they’d pick a boat. Mom and Dad wanted to surprise me with the location, and they must not know what these things do to your inner ear.”
No, they wouldn’t know. I love Paige’s parents like an aunt and uncle, but most of the time Mrs. Herbert has her head buried in a car engine, and Mr. Herbert doesn’t give off a warm cuddly air. They care about me, and I know they always wished Paige and I had ended up together. Still, I’ve never had a heart-to-heart with them about my vulnerabilities.
Including my aversion to boats.
“It’s fine. Seriously. My balance has improved.” Under other circumstances, I’d be honest with Paige, letting her know I’m worried I might tumble out of this seat at any second. But today we’re all here to celebrate her engagement. None of this party should focus on me.
Still, my friend gives me a skeptical look. “Charlie—”
“Miss Herbert, there you are.” A woman with a fancy camera hanging around her neck approaches our table. “I thought now would be a good time for pictures of you and your fiancé. Wedding party too? The view off the bow is magnificent! Will make for a perfect background.” The bearer of bad ideas grins down at the two of us.
Paige glances my way. “I don’t—”
“Sounds like a plan!” I wave my friend out of the booth so we can both stand. No way am I going to let my unsteadiness hinder any part of this party. With a strategic grip on the tabletop and locking my knees, I’m able to stand, making the move appear almost smooth.
I can tell from the way her brows dip, Paige is readying to mount a protest, but I spot the best distraction.
“Dash!” My shout catches the attention of the dark-haired man who just passed by our window. His head swivels toward us, then he backtracks, grinning wide through the glass. He gives me a nod of hello, then smirks at his fiancée as she waves and tries to mime taking pictures at the front of the boat. Dash feigns confusion, giving an exaggerated shrug, then points at his ear and mouths: I can’t hear you.
“I know you can’t hear me, you impossible man,” Paige huffs. “That’s obviously why I’m doing charades.” She turns to the photographer. “I’ll round him and the Best Woman up, and we’ll meet you at the bow in five minutes.” Paige steps away, then glances back at me. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Promise. I’ll meet you out there.”
Finally, she and the photographer leave.
Five minutes. I utilize every second to shuffle my way to the front of the boat, grabbing on to anything that appears to be welded to the yacht in the process.
This is not my first time on the wild sea rodeo. When I was ten, my family went on a cruise, and for an entire week I stumbled around that ship like I’d broken into the all-you-can-drink bar. We were supposed to ride the cruise for an entire month while my mother worked as a musical act. I’d tried to white-knuckle my way into walking a straight line but just couldn’t manage it. When my parents realized my balance was an unsolvable problem, my dad and I disembarked in the Bahamas and we flew home to New Orleans.
The guilt that came along with our early departure ate at me. Mom and Dad had never gone more than a long weekend away from each other, but I made them spend three weeks apart.
Suffice to say, she never took another cruise gig until I left for college.
I will not let my aversion to boats ruin another important moment for someone I love.
When I reach the bow, Paige and Dash are already in the midst of their shoot. They stand with a beautiful sprawling view of Lake Pontchartrain in the background. From the way the two gaze at each other, it’s no surprise they’re days away from making a lifelong commitment.
“Great! Now let’s get a smile toward the camera.” The photographer adjusts a lens before raising the camera back up.
But I guess that was too long of a pause for Dash.
“Mr. Lamont, if you would look at the camera?” She calls out again.
Then a second later. “Mr. Lamont, eyes my way, please.”
Barely a moment passes before—
“Mr. Lamont—”
“Dash!” Paige growls as she cups his cheeks in both her hands. “Stop staring at me and look at the camera!”
The groom only smirks and leans in to kiss her deeply. The photographer shrugs and starts snapping what’s provided.
“He’s hopeless,” a wry voice mutters just behind me.
When I turn to find the speaker, I have to grab onto the railing with my second hand, and this time not because of the water.
There’s a woman. A striking woman.
She has a sharpness to her. Maybe from her neatly cut hair or the straight line of her brows. Or possibly from the piercing way she stares at the couple across from us.
“Love makes you goofy, I guess,” I offer, wondering what it might be like to have her intense focus on me.
Searing. That’s the sensation when she turns her head, meeting my gaze.
Even with all the angles to her, the ones that warn me I might get cut if I step too close, there’s nothing foreboding about her smile. And with that soft expression, I spy her curves. The way her lower lip is fuller than the top. The nicely sculpted curve of her biceps that alerts me to who would win in an arm-wrestling contest.
Her. No doubt.
And then there’s the round sweep of her hips, the shape emphasized by the vibrant red jumpsuit she wears. Plenty of people wouldn’t call the one-piece outfit provocative, with fabric reaching down to her ankles and a top sporting thick, flowing sleeves. What has my mind floundering is the knowledge that all the pieces connect, which means the outfit comes off all at once.
Fantastic. I’m officially a creeper.
“How do you know Paige and Dash?” The tempting woman runs her own appraisal over me. I wonder if I meet any of her dating criteria.
“I’m the Man of Honor. Paige’s best friend.” That’s got to give me some credit, right? That a woman as awesome as Paige likes me enough to include me in her wedding party.
The stranger’s head tilts, and this time her eyes trail over me at an even slower rate, truly taking in every inch of my body.
“Charlie Keller.” My name on her lips should be a best-selling song. I want to play it on repeat.
“Yes.” I almost choke on the agreement, eager to find out how she knows me. If she wants to get to know more. “And you are?”
“I’m Luna.” The woman extends a hand, and I detach one of mine from the railing to return the handshake. “Dash’s sister. And Best Woman.”
The second after she says it, I know I should have realized. For one, Paige told me Dash’s sister would be here and that she’s basically a shorter version of her brother.
My best friend needs to work on her description of people.
Yeah, I can see the resemblance between Luna and Dash with their sharp cheekbones, dark brown—almost black—hair, and hooded eyes.
But Dash’s dark brown eyes aren’t beautiful and guarded like his sister’s. And the guy’s mouth isn’t perfectly made for long, languid kissing. And his body is not merely a taller version of his sister’s strong, curvy form.
“Nice to meet you,” I manage to say in a normal tone of voice, without drooling.
“Good thing I wore heels.” She nods down to her feet, which are sporting some strappy shoes with a spiked heel.
“Huh?” The awkward word is all I can manage when I get distracted by her red-painted toenails.
“Because you’re so tall.” She reaches up to tap the top of my head. “While I can walk under most limbo sticks without effort. At least this way they can take a picture of us together and both our heads will be in the frame.” She smirks, and I grin in return.
“Oh, good. You’re here. Let’s get some shots with the wedding party.” The photographer waves Luna and me over. Luckily, I’m able to shuffle along the railing to reach the happy couple.
For the next few minutes, the four of us stand grouped together for unending photos. Paige does her best to keep an arm wrapped around my waist when the opportunity presents itself, no doubt worried I’ll face-plant if she doesn’t lend some support.
“That’s great. Now just the Man of Honor and Best Woman.” The photographer messes with buttons on her equipment as we rearrange.
When Paige and Dash stroll off to the side, hand in hand, I try not to show how eager I am to get close to Luna again.
“You know, with those titles it sounds like this event is all about us,” I murmur to Dash’s sister when she’s at my side.
Luna snorts, but then her body gets all kinds of stiff as she faces the photographer.
“Okay, these are just some casual shots. Feel free to relax into them,” the woman directs.
I do my best to not appear to have a stranglehold on the railing, and I watch as Luna moves her hands around awkwardly, as if they’re inflated with helium and she can’t figure out how to keep them down.
The smile the photographer aims at the two of us is all strained patience, and I pity her. Models we are not.
“What if we do some funny ones?” I suggest, getting a genuine smile of relief from the professional.
“Funny how?” Luna’s skepticism is clear in her voice.
“Like…oh my god! Is that a whale eating a shark?” I point wildly to the empty water, and Luna whips her head to the side, shielding her eyes, then glances back at me with a wry smile.
A click sounds. The candid moment caught.
“Got me.” Her strong hand grips the rail beside mine. “What next?”
“Piggyback ride?” I offer, apparently because I’m in active pursuit of pitching face-first onto the deck.
Luna’s lips twist in contemplation. “I’m giving you one,” she announces.
“What?”
But the short woman is already hunching over, presenting me her back. “Come on, Man of Honor. I’m stronger than I look.”
The situation takes some clever maneuvering and a lot of laughter from Paige and Dash. I’m not sure the shot of me, all long limbs draped over Luna’s compact body, is wedding album material, but the silly pose breaks some of the tension of two relative strangers posing together.
My awe of Dash’s sister multiplies exponentially when Luna not only lifts me off the ground but performs the feat in heels on a swaying boat.
This woman is a beast.
When we’re back to standing, Luna wears a thoughtful expression, getting into the silly exercise.
“If I sit on the railing, our heads might be level.” She taps the metal bar, measuring with her eyes.
“Sit on the railing? Are you kidding?” My disbelief squawks out in an unfortunately high pitch.
Luna gives me a grin that sparkles, and I swallow my vocal box.
“I’ve got outstanding balance. You just lean back. I’ll climb up and use you to steady myself. Come on, it’ll look…” She pauses, then rolls her eyes as she laughs out a sigh. “Cute.”
I get the sense that Luna doesn’t often let herself do cute, silly things. The fact that she thought this pose up herself means there’s no way I can turn it down, even if the idea of her putting herself in a precarious position makes my stomach roll worse than the waves.
“Okay. Where do you want me?”
Luna proceeds to torture me by grabbing my waist and using her hold to back me up against the railing. Her guiding hands maintain my balance while causing me to fight off an embarrassing twitch below my belt. To keep any unwanted things from arising, I try to remember exactly what the roadkill opossum I spotted on the drive here looked like.
Not a thought I expected to bring up at my best friend’s engagement party.
When the railing presses into my back and I’ve got a firm grip of the metal with both hands, Luna scales the rungs with nimble grace, setting her butt on the bar at my hip height. She doesn’t seem unsteady in the slightest, but I give into the urge to wrap my arm around her waist, moving close to her side and providing support.
The photographer offers a thumbs-up, then clicks away. I throw a quick glance at Luna’s face and once again watch a stiff, unnatural smile crease her tempting lips.
Tilting my head closer to hers, I whisper, “When I was fourteen my parents took me to Disney World, and when I met Princess Ariel, I got a boner and had to hide it behind my cotton candy while my mom insisted I take a picture with the mermaid.”
Luna barks out a laugh just as the camera clicks, and I hear another flash of the shutter when she grins down at me.
“You would be a difficult person to blackmail, Charlie Keller. Telling all your embarrassing moments to the world like that.”
“Ah, but I didn’t tell the world though. I told you. And now you can hold that knowledge over me for the rest of my days.”
She chuckles again, and I know the pictures have to be amazing, because there is no way that smile doesn’t glow on film. Somehow taking my eyes off of Luna, I look ahead again to see Paige and Dash watching us. My friend has an encouraging smile, but her fiancé glances between Luna and me as if unsure about something.
“Got it!” The photographer lowers her camera and glances around. “Now let’s get some shots of the parents. First the bride’s, then the groom’s.”
Luna goes stiff against my arm, and I glance up in time to watch all the humor from a minute ago drain away, replaced by a carefully neutral mask.
Dash clears his throat. “Uh, no parents on the groom’s side. Let’s just stick with Paige and the Herberts.”
“Give me a hand,” Luna commands. I extend my palm, helping her easily leap down from the perch.
“That’s silly,” says a familiar voice from my childhood. Ginny Herbert steps forward, approaching her daughter. “We already have plenty of pictures with just Paige and the two of us. We want all four of us to be in the shot.” She opens her arms, gesturing the couple forward.
“I don’t—” Dash begins.
“You’re our son now,” a stern, take-no-shit voice says. Another I heard growing up. Mr. Herbert, in all his intimidating, looming power, steps up behind his wife. “You’ll be in the picture.”
Though the commanding way he spoke the words don’t sound like a heartwarming sentiment, I can’t help noticing how the declaration affects the gathering. Paige rubs a comforting caress over Dash’s chest as he blinks rapidly. Mrs. Herbert beams up at her husband. And Luna’s hand, which still rests in mine, clenches hard. When I glance her way, she has her lower lip pinched in her teeth.
Of course, it’s during this touching exchange that the boat plunges nose-first into the wake of a speedboat, causing the slightest shudder in the yacht’s swaying. Barely enough for anyone on board to notice, but way too much for my equilibrium to stay in check. Suddenly, I’m stumbling backward, losing hold of both Luna’s hand and my footing.
Then the world tilts and spins as I topple over the railing.