Because Of Love

Twenty minutes later, Talia made her way out of the room. In the short corridor, straight ahead the open door allowed her to see into another bedroom. That bed appeared to be just as large as the one she had occupied.

Was that his room? The nosey part of her wanted to go in for a little tour. She had thought that the one she was using was his because it smelled of him. But then again, he had been in there a few times when he looked after her. As she walked ahead a few steps, on her right was another room but with two single beds. The yacht was like a small luxurious three bedroom apartment, she could see its appeal. Why stay in a hotel when he had such a beautiful space? And even better – depending on who was asked – he could take his floating home anywhere in the wide, quiet ocean. Just thinking about her noisy neighbors, the loud car horns, and the kids playing in the alley, she could definitely see the appeal. If she wasn’t so afraid of being surrounded by nothing but water, she would seriously consider getting a water home.

With that reminder, Talia swayed on her feet as she felt another dizzy spell. Her hands reached out to the close corridor walls to keep her steady. At least this time she barely felt nauseous. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, inhaling with her nose and exhaling with her mouth. Maybe she shouldn’t have watched Titanic a hundred times. Unlike others who watched the famed movie over and over again solely for the romance, she had an additional reason. She just couldn’t understand how no one saw the bungalow sized iceberg in their way. It was like walking into a tree with her eyes wide open and staring right at it.

When the spell passed, Talia took the steps to her left above deck, emerging in a room that made her jaw drop. She stood at the top step and let her eyes roam over the exquisitely decorated space.

“This… is supposed to be a boat!”

“Actually it’s a yacht.”

She looked up to see DeLuca standing in front of the table a few feet away.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

He lifted his hand and with his index finger pointed to the big grey chair to her left. “That right next to you is called the helm station.”

Talia turned to look at it. It looked similar to the cockpit of a plane except this one had a steering wheel.

“Where the sofas are, is called the salon.”

She stared at the grey corner couch with white cushions, the black finishing coffee table and right opposite a white moon chair. She began wondering how they would look in her small apartment.

“Right ahead, is the galley.”

She walked across the wooden panel floor and took a step down. To her right was a dining area, and to her left was a sink, and adjacent to it was a fixed electric flat cooktop, on an eggshell texted counter cabinet.

“Aka my dream kitchen,” she said with a heavy envious sigh. She needed a new crib. Good thing she was already looking.

He chuckled softly then said, “Right here is the cockpit.”

He stepped aside so she could see the wooden table and yet another couch, more on the outside and in the open. She knew that place, it was where they had their first conversation. The memory of him standing there in nothing but a towel, dripping wet from his interrupted shower made her all hot and bothered. She pulled on the collar of her shirt – no, it was his shirt.

By Elvis! Someone save me.

She swallowed the sexually frustrated whine in her throat and turned to him just in time to see the inquisitive look he was giving her. Before he could ask what was wrong with her she said, “What’s upstairs?”

“The flybridge lounge,” he answered, his searching eyes still on her.

She did not want to remain the subject of curiosity, especially on thoughts she didn’t want him to find out from looking at her. So she quickly walked in his direction, turned to her right, grabbed the railing and quickly took the seven steps up.

“Oh my,” Talia whispered, coming to a stop at the top most step. Beautiful wasn’t enough to describe that place. Under the dimming light of the setting sun, it looked like a dream. She walked fully into the open space. The grey tones against the white were quiet, clearly meant to not take away from the beautiful sight of the open ocean. She closed her eyes, a pleased grin taking over her face at the gentle caress of the ocean breeze against her cheek, gently fluttering the oversized clothes on her body.

“This…”

She drew in a quick breath at DeLuca’s whisper, his warm breath fanning against her ear.

“… is why I love sailing. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Which part?” she found herself asking, completely taken in by her beautiful surroundings.

His soft chuckle in her ear made her shiver. That sound had such an effect on her, she couldn’t explain what it was or why that was. The only thing she knew for sure was that he needed to do it often. Her eyes shot open when she felt his large hand slide against hers. She looked down at their joining hands; his clasped hers, then opened and rotated, his fingers moving to weave with hers, folding over and the pads of them, finally coming to rest at the back of her hand.

“That’s the helm. Similar to the one in the middle deck.”

She nodded absentmindedly, her eyes still fixed on their joined hands, his olive hand against her chocolate one. He just held her hand without missing a beat, as if it was the most natural thing to do. Years long couples are the ones whose hands unconsciously seek and find each other, as if being separated was as unbearable as it was unnatural. This felt like that… so right, and yet it went against all relationship laws. Relationship? They were just co-workers and not very good ones at that.