Smitten with the Orthopedic Surgeon: Keegan and Bridgette's heartwarming small town romance (Third Coast Medical Romance Book 1) by Daphne Dyer

Author:Daphne Dyer [Dyer, Daphne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skyway Creative Endeavors
Published: 2024-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

Bridgette

Of all my reckless ideas, this might be the dumbest. Daisy’s boat is a bath toy compared to the Sanchez’s super yacht. Theo’s boat would have had me at Willard Island in five minutes. Keegan’s will make me a cast member on Gilligan’s Island, but it will take twelve hours to sink instead of three.

I back away up the dock. “I’m sure Theo will still take me.”

Keegan lifts his head from the compartment next to the big steering wheel. “Get on the boat.”

“You’re bossy.” I’m not sure if I like it or not.

He spins the wrench in his hand. The muscles bunch and stretch in ways that make my mind wander and heat race to my cheeks.

“You either put up with my bossiness, or we don’t go to the island.”

What the heck is wrong with me? We just had a blowout fight and now I’m drooling. My stupid heart can’t decide where it wants to fall concerning the sexy sous chef. “What do I need to do?”

“Inventory food and water. If we don’t have enough for dinner, they should have everything up at the club. Tell them to put it on Gypsy‘s tab.”

“Gypsy?”

He knocks the wrench against the bench seat. “The boat is named Gypsy. Every boat has a tab.”

“Is this your boat?”

He shakes his head. “No, in an ironic twist of fate, it was Turner’s, but Gran took it over. She lets me borrow it from time to time.”

“You do know how to drive this thing, right?”

“The term is sail. I can sail her to Australia if that’s where you want to go.”

“Touchy.” I climb into the galley. I think that’s the right word.

The boat is cozier than I expected, in a good way. Light pours in. Paperback novels line the headboard of the full-size bed in the boat’s nose. A small table next to the kitchen is painted with a Scrabble board design, but the points are listed in M&M colors instead of numbers.

It would be a relaxing place to recharge after a grueling day in the bakery. In the secret part of my heart that I’m not even going to admit to myself—because I’m not a masochist—I imagine Keegan stretched out on the bed with his head cradled on his bicep. A single, long finger beacons me to join him. The mischievous smile on his face would make me run and jump into his arms.

But like I said, I’m not a masochist, so I ignore the burn low in my belly that thinks a night with Keegan would be a good idea. I don’t dare to dream about a lifetime with him. We’re too different. Too untrusting. Too confrontational.

A search of the cabinets amounts to three eight-ounce water bottles and stale saltines. That’s not going to work.

There’s a small convenience store next to the yacht club’s restaurant. While Keegan and I fought over Theo, I watched a woman picked up a picnic basket out of the corner of my eye.

I snatch a menu. Yep, to-go ordering to the rescue.

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