Wind whipping my hair around, small insistent waves beating against boat hulls, the air heavy with atmospheric pressure, I looked up at him. “Ronan?”
Pulling the gate open, he held it for me. “Almost there.”
My heart racing as fast as the wind, I stepped through, but then I took a moment.
We weren’t merely on a dock at a marina. We were at the marina. The one we’d snuck into as teens to look at all the boats. But they weren’t boats. They were yachts. Big, giant, fancy, expensive yachts.
Yes, I had money. I had a lot of money. So much, I wasn’t even exactly sure how much. But I was still the girl who grew up in Trinidad with no food. I was the woman who avoided looking at the price tags on the clothes my assistants brought me to wear. I was a famous singer with wealth that made me uncomfortable.
But I was also that teen that envied these beautiful boats.
His hand back grasping mine, pulling me down the dock, Ronan led us to a gleaming white and dark charcoal gray yacht that looked like it’d been built yesterday.
Tossing my bags onto the deck, he turned to me.
“Ronan.” My voice broke and then I was speechless because I saw the name on the back of the boat in big, beautiful, bold script.
Songbird.
Tears spilled over, and I threw my arms around him. Then I was sobbing, from joy, from heartache, from so many missed years and from my own stupid, stupid mistake a decade ago. “You bought a boat. You bought the boat.” This looked almost identical to the one I’d said was my favorite, but this one was newer and prettier and oh my God. “I can’t believe this.”
His arms tight around me, his face against my neck, his lips touched my ear. “Believe it.” He kissed me once. “Hold on.” Standing to his full height, he lifted me off the ground and gracefully, effortlessly stepped onto the yacht.
She spun around in a circle with her hands over her mouth and tears in her eyes. “I can’t believe it.” She traced the edge of the quartz countertop in the galley. “This is beautiful.” She looked back at me. “So beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” I grabbed her bag and took her hand and headed down the few steps to the cabin. “Come.”
She gasped when she saw the room. “This is a full-sized bedroom.” She took in everything like she’d never been on a boat. “This is bigger than your room growing up.”
Internally, I snorted. “Much.” Twice as big.
She scanned the cabin again. “I can’t believe you live here.” Her eyes met mine again. “This must have been expensive.”
I stiffened at her implication. “I have money, Sanaa.” I’d saved every damn cent when I was active duty, and the first year working for Luna, I took all the hours I could get and invested my earnings. I didn’t have near what she had, but the boat was paid for.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you. I just….” She glanced at the large flat-screen on the wall. “It’s lovely. You’ve done really well for yourself, Ronan.”
I didn’t want to have this fucking conversation, but I also didn’t want it hanging over my head. “I don’t make what you do, not even close. But if you decided to walk away from all of your money, I’m more than capable of supporting you.”
Her eyes went wide. “No, please, you misunderstand. I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t. It’s just….” She waved her hand around, then she laughed with embarrassment. “It’s hard to forget where I come from when I’m with you. The past and the present seem to blend into one, and I was honestly looking around at everything through the eyes of a girl who grew up on the streets in Trinidad. Ten years ago, I could not have imagined this to be your life.” She smiled shyly. “You really did do well for yourself, Ronan. I’m happy for you.”
Uncomfortable with the compliment, especially coming from her, I didn’t reply. I also had to admit that ten years ago I couldn’t have imagined her life either. “I’ll start the shower.” Stepping past her, my mood suddenly shit, I walked into the head.
“How long have you had the boat?” she asked, calling after me.
I didn’t give her eye contact, and I didn’t correct her. “I commissioned it nineteen months ago and took possession eleven months after that.” But I’d been on a waiting list for