Chapter 37

DYLAN

I can't believe this is happening. I'm furious with my father for once again putting business before people. Before family. That's when I realise it.

Mackenzie is family. No matter what happens, I want her to be in my life. Always.

If she can even stand to look at me ever again.

Me and my stupid, big, fat mouth. I never should have mentioned where she was that day. I never should have spoken about her at all. I should have known better how to protect her.

I've been sitting here on the deck of this half-finished boat trying to think up all the right ways I can tell her that my father's company is putting her grandmother's business out to dry.

God, their relationship is so fragile already. If this ruins things between them, I'll never forgive myself.

My anxiety worsens with every second that ticks by. Because there's another relationship at stake here, and I'm not talking about the one between me and my father. Things between us have been shaky for quite some time and I've wondered for the past few months if it will ever be salvageable.

I'm talking about me and Mackenzie.

I never expected to have to make this choice. Do I risk Grace's livelihood for the sake of my own ambitions or give up what I've been working so hard for so that nothing has to change for her?

Of course, I already know what needs to be done.

And maybe returning to the Abbott group to work for my father doesn't have to mean giving up on my dream. Maybe I'd just be postponing it for a little while. I'd be earning way more money. I could afford to keep the boat here in the warehouse.

Maybe I could try to find a way to have the best of both worlds.

Even as the thought registers in my brain, I know it would be impossible. I simply can't run a company on such a large scale and still operate a dive charter boat simultaneously.

Another half hour passes before I hear the unmistakeable rumble of a Ferrari engine.

Claire's come back.

I lean forward, my head in my hands. I'd hoped I'd have more time to think before she returned. I don't look up when I hear the door to the warehouse slide open, nor when I hear footsteps climbing the ladder to the boat.

"Well, don't you look like a fish out of water." The voice

doesn't belong to my sister. I'd know that voice anywhere.

I take in the converse sneakers as they move in front of me, my gaze travelling upward over long lean legs, denim cut-off shorts and finally a wild mane of blonde curls.

"Mackenzie? I thought you were Claire." My lungs are tight as my heart hammers against my ribs.

Time is up. I owe Mackenzie an explanation and she deserves more than to have to wait for me to figure my shit out.

"Claire brought me here."

"She did?" That explains the Ferrari engine then.

"Dylan, she told me everything."

I scour her face for a clue as to how she might be taking the news, but her expression is one of indifference. It gives nothing away.

I manage a deep inhale before blowing out a long and tired sigh that pretty much sums up exactly how I'm feeling right now. Exhausted. Completely fatigued.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hating that my father has put me in this predicament. "I'm sorry, Kenz. I feel one hundred percent responsible, but I know what I need to do to make it right though. I'm going to fix this."

"You don't have to do anything," she says as she slides down onto the floor beside me, resting her back up against the side of the boat. Her hand finds my knee, gliding along the fabric of my suit pants.

I begin to wonder if she has truly grasped the gravity of the situation. "Of course I do. This is so messed up." I rake a hand through my hair before I turn and meet her gaze. "He said he'll drop everything if I go and work for him. And honestly, if it means that I can help Grace, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea."

"What?" Her eyes narrow as they search mine.

"You said it yourself. Working for my father would be taking the easy way out. It would be a piece of cake. And if it's going to help you and your family, it's the easiest decision I'll ever make."

"But you don't want easy," she whispers.

"I want you to be happy."

Never in a million years would I expect her to laugh right now, but that's exactly what she does.

"You are insane, Dylan. You'd give up all of this?" She waves her hands wildly in front of her, gesturing to the boat. "You'd give up your dream?"

My eyes are glassy as they meet hers and its then I realise she doesn't seem all that upset. "If it means that I can fix this. Yes. I'll do whatever I have to do. I could still live here in Cliff Haven. I could commute. As long as I have you in my life, I can be happy."

"Well, it wouldn't make me happy. I would never want you to do that." Her light blue stare seems to see right through me. "Seriously, I love you for that. But Grace is happy. She's going to move the studio."

"What?"

"Yeah. To Cliff Haven," she says, a grin spreading across her mouth. "She's happy, Dylan. Really."

"She is? You aren't just saying that, are you?"

She shakes her head. "Promise."

My chest deflates with relief. "You couldn't have led with that?"

Her laugh echoes off the walls of the warehouse as I pull her into my arms. She kisses me before drawing back, her fingers tugging at the lapel of my suit jacket. "I guess I'm the only one that needs to deliver bad news today."

"What do you mean?" I search her face for a clue as to what she might be about to tell me, but her expression doesn't resemble that of a person about to deliver bad news. In fact, she looks ecstatic.

"I'm giving you notice," she says. "I won't be able to work at the tavern anymore."

"Kenz, what do you mean? What are you saying?"

"I got a job offer," she explains. "I'm going to work at the studio full time. With Grace."

"You're kidding. That's amazing!"

"Yeah. It is." Her grin widens. "So you can call your dad and thank him because he's done us all a favour."

"That's one way of looking at it, I guess." A relieved laugh bursts from me as I draw her in closer. I act on instinct, pure habit to me at this point, as I crush my lips against hers. She leans further into the kiss, wrapping her arms around my neck. It's several moments before she finally pulls away and I notice her eyes are filled with tears.

"Kenz?"

"You'd really have given up all of this for me? Just so that Grace could keep her studio."

I shrug. "You know I would have."

"How did I get so lucky?" she whispers. "Where did you come from Dylan Abbott?"

"I could ask you the same thing." I stare back at the woman sitting in front of me, who has quickly become everything to me. My heart is full, grateful. "Come on. I want to take you home."

"I want that too," she says, though she makes no attempt to move. Instead, she pauses in place before adding, "But there's something I need to do first."

My brows pinch inward as she climbs into my lap, straddling my thighs. She tugs on the tie around my neck, digging her fingers into the knot until she gets it loose. She slides it from the collar of my shirt and then tosses it over the side of the boat.

I stifle a laugh, a smirk twisting my lips. "Feel better now?"

"It's a start." She slips her hands beneath my jacket, pushing it away from my shoulders. I lean forward, allowing her to slip it off. She clutches it in her hands, rolling it into a ball and throws that over the edge of the boat too.

A laugh rumbles up from my throat. "Not a fan of the suit, huh?"

"I fucking hate it." She begins unbuttoning my shirt as her lips come to mine again.

My fingers wind through her curls and when she pulls away, a devious grin lights up her face.

I look down to where her fingers graze my belt buckle. "You know I don't actually have anything else to wear right now, right?"

Her left eyebrow quirks upward. "Oh, I know."