Sylvie blushed again, glancing out toward the ocean to ground herself. “I see your point.”
A pause followed, the quiet kind that didn’t feel uncomfortable.
A twist of Caribbean fate, she thought. What a choice of words.
“I don’t want to intrude again,” he said, his voice dropping slightly, more hesitant. “But I’ve got nothing planned today. Would you like to do one of the tours together? I felt a little awkward signing up solo.”
Luke, feeling awkward? She blinked. But he looked sheepish, almost like he was worried she’d turn him down.
“You know what? Yes,” she said, surprising herself. “I really would.”
Chapter 16
Why hadn’t Sylvie realized that dolphin spotting would be on a boat?
Maybe she had, somewhere in the back of her mind, but why hadn’t that translated intopeople might be swimming?
Sylvie had stood on the dock, smiling at the captain as he gave the safety speech, nodding as he gestured to the life vests lined along one side, and laughing politely at his joke about sharks—even though she barely heard a word of it. Her brain had short-circuited the moment she realized every single person standing in line with her was wearing a swimsuit and some sort of cover-up.
Not that many of them were hiding much, she thought as she tried not to look at one exceptionally muscular man wearing skin-tight briefs under mesh board shorts and an open shirt that refused to stay closed.
“Ready?” Luke asked, snapping her out of her blank.
“Oh, sure. Yeah,” she replied, locking her eyes onto a safe, neutral spot on his left cheek.
Luke was wearing significantly more than anyone else on the boat—other than her—but it didn’t matter when he looked that good in a soft, faded vintage tee.
“After you.” He motioned to the narrow gangplank running from the dock to the boat.
She wouldn’t have felt quite so foolish if she hadn’t spent an hour obsessing over what to wear. Still, as she steppedcarefully onto the slippery board, she was glad she’d chosen the strappy sandals over the slip-ons.
Once safely aboard, she made a beeline for a seat in full shade near the cabin—she didn’t need a sunburn on top of everything else. The gleaming white boat was prepared for tours, featuring three tidy rows of four fixed sun loungers, each pair separated by a small table. She carefully placed her bag on the table and tried to settle into the plush cushion on the lounger. Luke sat in the lounger beside her, and they waited silently as the captain got ready, the tour guide handing out small cups of fruit juice.
The guide explained there were a few good spots where they’d try their luck, although there were no guarantees on sightings. Then came the surprise—before lunch, everyone would have the chance to go swimming.
Luke must have caught her wince because the moment the guide sat back down, he leaned toward her. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, uh, yes,” she said, trying to figure out how to sayeven if I had a swimsuit, there’s no way I’d strip down in front of you and a boatload of twenty-five-year-old Instagram modelswithout actually saying any of that.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed movement. The girlfriend of the guy in mesh shorts stood, untied the belt of her lace cover-up, and stepped out of it to reveal what could only be considered the smallest bikini on Earth—worn on a physique that looked like it belonged in a Marvel movie.
Sylvie blinked and turned back to Luke, who was—blessedly—not looking in that direction. “Wow, she must live in the gym.”
Luke chuckled low. “Feels like they both do. Gym, and probably the kitchen. Muscle like that doesn’t happen on steamed spinach.”
She laughed. “It’s funny, isn’t it? All the marketing is aboutnoteating, but these folks probably eat their weight in protein every day.” As she spoke, she glanced at the couple—now lounging at the front of the boat, smiling at each other and reaching for the same hand.
“Yeah,” Luke said. “What’s even funnier is that half those fitness ads have a legal team scrubbing the fine print so it’s clear the models may or may not have even touched the product.”
“Seriously?” she asked, turning to him.
“Yep.” He sipped his juice. “If they use it once, the company gets to say ‘as used by’ and slap it on a poster. Technically true. Functionally worthless.”
She squinted at him. “That’s…really unethical.”
“It is,” he agreed, unfazed. “Unfortunately, there is very little we can do about it.”
“We?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
