“For?” I ask him, my heart speeding up. His outfit fits him like a glove, and when he got into the truck, he undid his jacket, and his arms looked like he was going to burst out of it. The need to lean over the console and just kiss him silly took over me, and I turned my head to look out the window instead of stare at him.

“Coming tonight.”

“I mean …” I turn and face him. “You did have my curiosity piqued by the whole under the sea thing.” My hand goes to his shirt collar and then moves down, my fingers trailing inside his shirt across his smooth skin. “I thought you would just take me back to your place and fuck me under your shower.” He throws his head back and laughs, and I look to the side as the bright colors of the corals catch my attention. The yellow fish are just swinging around and around. “But this,” I tell him, letting go. I walk to the wall of glass and place my hand against it, feeling the coolness right away and watching as the corals sway side to side almost peacefully. “This is so much better than being fucked in your shower.”

“Really?” he says, and I turn to watch him. “Obviously, I didn’t do that right.”

It’s my turn to throw my head back and laugh. “I have no complaints,” I tell him. Someone comes out with a tray with a glass of champagne and a glass of water. Mark takes both and then the man turns and walks away. He hands me the champagne glass. “Merci.”

“To not drowning.” He winks at me and then clinks my glass.

“And to a redo in the shower,” I counter and then take a sip of the chilled champagne. The bubbles hitting the roof of my mouth right away.

The man comes back again. “Dinner is ready,” he says, and I look at Markos, who nods at him and then guides me toward the round table in the middle of the room. When he pulls out a gold chair, and I sit down, I don’t expect him to lean down and kiss my shoulder. Or for his beard to make my whole body shiver. He walks to his chair, facing me, and I look down at the cream linen cloth covering the table and the white and gold plate settings. The cream-colored linen napkin in the middle is folded into the shape of a seashell. I put it in my lap and then look at the little touches on the table. What looks like sand in the middle of the table with a starfish and seashells everywhere.

“I hope that you like seafood.” He leans in. “I mean, I know it’s rude of us to eat some of the creatures’ friends but …”