EPILOGUE - ALEXANDRA

I’ve packed and repacked my Louis Vuitton suitcase several times. Although my personal stylist sent over a plethora of clothing items that she called ‘superyacht chic,’ I can’t seem to decide on the perfect options to bring on our trip to Hawaii with Joe’s family.

Joe is in a relaxed position on the enormous bed with his hands folded under his head on a stack of pillows as he watches me fret.

“What about this?” I ask, holding up a navy-blue and white romper.

“It looks great,” he says for the umpteenth time. At my frustrated scowl, he adds, “You’re going to look fantastic no matter what you wear, and my family is going to love you.”

He has zeroed in on my true worry with that last bit. Flopping down beside him on the bed, I practically wail, “What if they hate me?”

“How could they possibly hate you?” he asks, sounding utterly sincere.

Giving him an exasperated look, I say, “Oh, I don’t know… Maybe because my grandfather fired your dad, or because I had you thrown in jail.”

“They’ll forget about all of that once they see how great you are,” he says confidently. Lightening the mood, he adds, “No matter what clothes you’re wearing.”

“I know my clothes are a trivial matter, but they are one of the few things that I can control in this situation. I desperately want your sister and parents to like me, but it feels like I’m fighting an uphill battle against their preconceived notions about me,” I admit.

“Alex, your reputation may intimidate them a bit at first. But as soon as they see that you’re a real person, who has weird quirks and gross habits––just like the rest of us––they’re going to adore you.”

Pouting my lips, I ask, “What do you mean by weird and gross?”

“Hmm…” he answers as he lifts Mr. Fluffy in the air. “Do all grown women, who run international companies, need to snuggle with a stuffed animal to get to sleep at night?”

“Okay, perhaps that’s a little weird,” I admit as I snatch my soft bunny back from him.

“It’s weird, but very sweet,” he murmurs near my ear.

My eyes fall shut at his soft-spoken words, until I remember the rest and say, “But sleeping with a stuffy isn’t gross.”

“No, but your shower wall, hair art is,” he fires back.

“You don’t like the little, hairy hearts I leave for you?” I ask, pretending to be hurt.

“Oh, they’re lovely, and I enjoy finding them,” he assures me. “But other people might see that as a bit gross.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t mention Mr. Fluffy or my hair artistry to your family,” I suggest, worried that they might think I’m a raving lunatic.

“But that’s just it, Alex. Those oddball quirks are part of what make you so amazing. I love you even more because of those peculiarities that help make you so unique.”

Lifting my palm to cup one of his scruffy cheeks, I say, “Wow, I never imagined that being called weird and gross could be so heartwarming. You really know how to romance a lady.”

“And you know how to win over a man. Speaking of that, is there any way you could have all of the bogus criminal charges against me dropped, so that I don’t end up back in jail?” he asks.

“Brinkley is already taking care of it,” I promise him.

With that settled, he kisses me deeply. Instantly, my concerns about his family’s opinions of me and our complicated history together sail away as Joe and I become lost in each other.

* * *

Sea Dreams, the classy megayacht that Joe’s sister’s boyfriend, Dane Wilder, chartered for their family during our Hawaii trip, is beyond impressive. Although I had never met the notorious billionaire in-person before, we travel in the same influential circles and know many of the same people.

Dane and I chat amiably as we sip champagne and wait for our bags to be brought on board the ship.

When I realize that Joe’s family has gone silent, it dawns on me how rude it is of us to effectively exclude them from the conversation by talking about socialites and business moguls, whom they don’t know.

Giving his parents and sister, Emmy, a shy smile, I say, “Sorry about chattering on like that with Dane. I doubt if you guys care to hear about Buffy Collinsworth’s personal chef drama.”

Joe gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and Emmy says, “Oh, don’t give it another thought. Dane is the biggest gossip queen I know. He’s having the time of his life dishing with you.”

“I’m not a gossip queen.” The billionaire pretends to pout before brightening and saying, “I’m a gossip king!”

We all laugh at the surprisingly down-to-earth man. Even Danielle, the quiet teenager they brought with them, chuckles. Dane and Emmy seem to have unofficially adopted the wide-eyed girl and her adorable baby, Natalie. The four of them haven’t known each other long, but they already seem like a cohesive family unit. Apparently, time isn’t a factor when it comes to loving the people you are meant to be with.

The boat’s captain explains that our chief stewardess has a migraine, but he assures us that the other two stews, Demi and Tori, will make sure we have a wonderful trip.

Demi steps forward and offers to take us on a tour of the massive ship. When we reach the plush primary suite, the pretty stew says to Dane, “As the primary charter guests, I assume that you and Emmy will be staying in this room.”

He surprises us all by saying to Emmy and Joe’s parents, “We would love it if the two of you would take the big suite.”

Mrs. Scott pats her chest dramatically as she looks around the luxurious room and oversized en suite bathroom with the huge sunken bathtub. “Oh, my… Really?”

“Absolutely,” Dane answers. “The love of my life wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the two of you, and for that, I am eternally grateful.”

Tears pool in the woman’s eyes as Dane gallantly kisses the back of her hand.

Lightening the mood, her husband makes a typical dad joke. “I always dreamed that someday we might be able to live off of our kids. Since they’ve both wisely chosen wealthy partners, it seems that we may finally be able to reap the rewards of raising them.”

He lets out an exaggerated “Oof!” when his wife playfully smacks at his chest.

We’re all still chuckling as we leave the loving duo to relax and enjoy their opulent suite.

Demi guides us to a twin room with a portable crib. “Does this room work for you, Danielle?”

The teenager’s eyes light up, even though the room is less than a quarter the size of the primary suite. Carrying her baby inside she coos at her, “Look at this, Nati. It’s all ours for the next few days.”

As we leave them to settle in, Demi proves that she knows exactly who Dane and I are by saying, “I’ll let you two billionaires duke it out over who gets the queen suite and who is stuck in the other twin stateroom.”

She shows us the two rooms. There is no denying that the suite with the queen-sized bed, elegant bathroom, and sweeping ocean views through the oversized windows is far superior to the barebones room with the twin beds and porthole view.

Not wanting to create a ruckus, I say to Dane, “You’re paying for this trip, so you should get the better room. I’ll pick up the tab next time, and you can stay in the storage closet-sized accommodations.”

My attempt at humor falls flat when Dane says, “No, I insist that you and Joe take the bigger room.”

Emmy snuggles up next to her man, obviously proud of his extreme generosity.

Joe steps forward, “That isn’t necessary, man. You guys take the better room.”

Demi glances back and forth between us, probably just wanting to escape this standoff, before weighing in. “You know, most people fight over who gets the nicer room. It’s refreshing to see so much politeness.”

“Oh, I’m not just being polite,” Dane reveals. “The twin room will allow us to be closer to Dani and Nati, in case they have any problems. Besides, we’re used to waking up to a baby crying in the night. Right, sweetheart?”

Dane and Emmy beam at each other before she snuggles closer to him and agrees, “Absolutely.”

“I don’t know,” Joe says, already beginning to waver.

“All right, I didn’t want to have to tell you this,” Dane hints. At our curious looks, he explains, “I’m hoping to talk your sister into sharing one of those narrow twin beds with me.”

When he waggles his thick eyebrows suggestively, Joe lets out a disgusted “Eww,” before holding up his palms in mock surrender and saying, “Okay, you win. Just go, and don’t ever speak about sleeping with my kid sister in my presence again.”

We all laugh at his over-the-top reaction.

Demi tells us to make ourselves at home and that dinner will be served at eight, then she hurries off.

After settling in, we all head upstairs. We spend the day relaxing on the sundeck, riding jet skis, and zipping down the slide into the warm, blue water.

When Dani asks me to hold Nati so she can go down the slide one more time, I give the teen an alarmed look. The girl chuckles as she shifts the adorable cherub into my arms, “It will be okay. I promise. I didn’t know what I was doing at first, either, but Nati doesn’t care.”

With that, the young mom disappears down the slide, and I am left staring down at the tiny bundle in my arms.

Sensing Joe’s presence, I glance up to discover him gazing at me like I am the answer to all of his dreams. His eyes are sparkling with delight when he says, “You look good with a baby in your arms.”

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” I warn him, but I can’t keep the smile at bay.

“Someday?” he asks with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Unable to deny the sudden, mysterious urge that heats my chest, I surprise us both by nodding and saying, “Someday soon.”

Joe lets out an excited “Whoop!” before barreling headfirst down the waterslide.

The day of sunshine, play, and laughter goes by way too quickly. Joe’s family is absolutely delightful, and we quickly bond with each other.

When we all head below deck to our rooms to get ready for dinner, I’m delighted to see that one of the stews has created a towel bunny to be Mr. Fluffy’s friend. They are snuggled together on our bed.

I set them carefully aside before getting naked and ravaging Joe’s sexy body. Riding him and gazing out the windows at the beautiful Hawaii sunset over the water is absolute heaven. Life can’t possibly get much better than being on a yacht and making love with the man of my dreams in paradise.

We arrive a few minutes late for dinner. Everyone probably knows exactly why we are tardy, but no one calls us out on it.

I’m delighted to see that our handsome, charming yacht captain is dining with us tonight. Captain Hudson Harrison is the exact opposite of the crusty, cranky old seaman I would have expected to have this job.

When the impeccably presented, gourmet food arrives, Emmy teases her brother for requesting a simple grilled cheese with bacon. Eyeing his plate, she says, “I guess some things never change.”

“I know what I like,” Joe answers, with no shame, before popping a French fry into his mouth. After swallowing, he angles his head toward Dane’s beverage and adds, “At least I have a grown-up drink.”

Dani speaks up for the first time during our meal. “I thought the same thing about Dane’s beverage of choice, but don’t knock Shirley Temples until you’ve tried them. They are delicious.”

She lifts her cherry-garnished pink drink in Dane’s direction. He does an air-cheers with her, before they both take giant gulps of the sweet concoction.

It doesn’t take long for the four men around the table to begin talking animatedly over their love of driving fast. The mode of transportation doesn’t seem to matter––cars, boats, motorcycles. They all share a love of extreme speed in anything that has a motor.

As the meal progresses, Captain Hudson regales us with sea stories from his days in the Coast Guard and has us all riveted to his every word.

Joe leans over to whisper near my ear, “Do you have a bit of a crush on our captain?”

“What? No.” I answer firmly. At his single raised brow, I say, “He’s the type of man I would be drawn to, if I didn’t know you, but you’re the only man for me, Joe Scott.”

He beams at my reassurance and presses a sweet kiss to my cheek.

“Besides, he and the third stew, Tori, have a thing going on.” I speak with authority, even though it’s just a guess.

“No way,” Joe answers, still whispering. “He’s her boss. They’re not banging.”

Grinning, I say, “They may not actually be banging, but they both want to. The chemistry between them practically sizzles.”

As if proving my point, Tori’s finger brushes across the captain’s hand as she clears his dinner plate. They lock eyes and snatch their hands away from the connection as if they have both just been burned.

I give Joe a knowing look to nonverbally say, I told you so.

He shrugs his shoulders, silently admitting that I might be right.

The captain makes a quick exit before dessert, as if we have caught him doing something wrong.

Evidently deciding that it’s time for his big moment, Joe taps his fork on his crystal water glass.

His mother’s lower eyelids well with tears as she stage-whispers to her husband, “He’s getting engaged.”

Giving his mother an exasperated look, Joe says, “That’s not what this is about, although someday soon, I would love to make that announcement.”

He squeezes my hand within his beneath the table before saying, “After spending the day with Alex, I’m sure you can all easily see why I love her so much.”

Heads nod around the table, making me feel as accepted and comfortable as I do with my own family.

Beaming at me, he says, “This amazing woman has convinced me that I should use my computer hacking skills for good, rather than mischief. I’m starting a company that will help stop the leaking of private information, and my first client is Morrow Industries.”

Looking directly at his dad, he says, “I’ve spoken with Mr. Morrow, and he seems truly sorry for the way you were treated.”

His dad nods before saying, “He called me, and we hashed it all out, son. We’re all good.”

Joe’s shoulders sag with relief, making it obvious that he wasn’t as confident as he pretended to be that our families’ past dealings were all forgiven.

“We’re better than good,” Joe’s mom weighs in. “We’re blessed beyond measure.”

Joe’s dad nods his agreement before asking, “What about your motorcycle repair shop?”

Splaying his hands, Joe says, “The shop was barely making it financially. I love working on bikes, and it’s something I’ll always do, but it will be more of a hobby than a job going forward.”

With that settled, we tuck into our gooey chocolate desserts before going our separate ways for the night.

Joe and I are alone in the massive hot tub when Tori checks in to see if we need anything. As she delivers our drinks, I can’t resist asking her, “Are there any shipboard romances between the crew members that we should know about?”

“Nope,” she answers, but her shy, happy smile says otherwise.

“Come on… Give us the inside scoop. We won’t tell anyone,” I promise, holding my right palm up out of the bubbling water.

“There’s nothing to tell,” she tries again. At my crestfallen expression, she leans in to add, “But rumor has it that an upcoming primary charter guest is one of the most famous rock stars on the planet. Of course, relationships between crew members and guests are strictly forbidden, but Demi has always had a huge crush on this particular musician.”

“Ohh… That could be interesting,” I weigh in, hoping for more juicy details.

“Perhaps,” she shrugs before hurrying away.

“Hmph, she’s not giving up anything scandalous about her relationship with the captain,” I grouch as Joe sets our drinks on the spa’s ledge.

“She can’t risk getting into any trouble. She’s the third stew, which is probably one of the lowest-ranking positions on the ship. A romance between her and the highest-ranking officer on board could probably get them both fired,” Joe says rationally.

“I guess,” I answer, wishing I knew more about their personal stories.

“There is one romantic love story unfolding on board this yacht that is even more scorching and scintillating than anyone ever imagined, though,” Joe hints.

Wrapping my arm around his neck, I grin and ask the question, even though I already know the answer. “Oh, yeah? Whose romance would that be?”

“Ours. I love you, Al,” he answers in a husky tone.

My eyes widen at his use of the masculine-sounding nickname. Deciding I don’t hate it when it’s falling from Joe’s lips, I say, “I must really love you, too, to let you get away with calling me that. You’re now part of a tiny, elite group of people with permission to use that pet name for me.”

“Mm, I feel special,” he murmurs near my ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand tall.

“You are special,” I remind him as I move to straddle his lap in the churning water. “You’re my completely un-average Joe.”

* * *

Yacht stewardess Demi falls hard for rock star legend and primary charter guest, Gavin Timberbatch. When scandal strikes, will their new relationship survive? Rock on with them in Idaho Idol.