Chapter 150

Almara’s Pov

“Arthur, where are you taking me?” I ask for the fifth time since we’ve gotten in the car. I mostly want to know because the suspension is killing me, but also Arthur blind folded me and I’m starting to feel car sick.

“We’re almost there.” He says, which is what he said the last two times I asked.

“Will you at least tell me what Grace is doing?” I ask.

“Oh, we’re we supposed to bring Grace?”

“Arthur!”

“Relax little wolf. I’m only joking. She’s asleep in the car seat.” I sit back in my seat and let out my breath. I can’t make out a thing beneath this mask. It was already dark so there’s no shadows to tell me if we’re in a woodsy or open area. “And we’re here.” Arthur says at last.

“Can I remove the blind?” I ask eagerly.

“One sec.” Arthur says and I hear the unclipping of the seatbelt and the car door open and close. He then opens my side door, unbuckles me, and helps me to my feet. “Okay, I got it.” I feel the cloth wrapped around my head loosen.

Before he gets the fabric off, my nose is already activated. I smell the sea, which would make sense why Arthur had me pack a bathing suit.

“Take a look.” He says his voice telling me he already knows I’m going to love what I see.

When I open my eyes, I’m greeted with string lights wrapped around a pier with a royal blue sign that says “Lovers Dock.” I was right about the sea, but anchored to the pier is a lovely small white yacht with a crew already waiting onboard with champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

The stars are twinkling in the sky, the moon is reflected in the lapping waters, and little pebbles and shells pave the way to the boat. “This is beautiful.” I tell him.

“I figured, what better way to celebrate our honeymoon then recreating the very spot where we had first met.” He says and as I turn around he pulls out a bouquet of roses. He can be such a romantic, and I’m such a sap for it. “I’ll grab Grace.” He says and kisses my cheek.

I look back at the boat waiting for us to dock, it seems that our happily ever after may begin after all. Moments later Arthur returns and we’re hand in hand strolling up the wooden ramp. Grace is enthralled by the dangling lights and keeps her eyes fixated on them.

“Welcome aboard, my lady.” A butler says with a bow and offers me a glass of champagne. I take it and Arthur takes the offer. We ting our glasses and I take Authors arm and he escorts us the rest of the way.

The boat is decorated with more lights and just above the deck is a piano player letting his fingers run eloquently across the keys. Near the wing of the boat is a small dinner table adorned with gold candle sticks and a lacey table cloth.

“The highchair is a nice touch.” I say ad truly mean it. The highchair itself is clearly high end with it’s intricate carvings and gold trim. I try not to think about the spilled food that’s inevitably going to get all over it.

Once we’re seated, Arthur takes my hand and strokes his thumb across the back of my hand. “I haven’t even told you the best part yet.” He says.

“Oh, you mean it gets better?” I ask, eyes wide. “How?”

Arthur tips his glass to his lips. “Little Wolf, you insult me. You should know I can always make something better.” I try to refrain from jokingly rolling my eyes, which makes Arthur smile.

“I know how much you liked that forest,” He begins. “And I never want to deny you of anything you want, so”

“So?” I egg him on.

“This boat is going to set sail for Azaela National Park. We’ll arrive in three days time and stay for five nights.” The waiter comes by to deliver our food on silver platters, and thankfully so because I need a minute to find my words.

The waiter removes the dome-shaped lids and serves us twice-baked potatoes, seasoned asparagus, and a thick cut of stead, cooked rare. My mouth salivates, even Grace is sniffing the air with delighted intrigue.

“Enjoy.” The waiter says with a bow before backing away.

“Azaela National Park.” I say it again, trying to place it. “Isn’t that the place where there was a gold mine found beneath the waterfall cove?” I say.

“Exactly the place. It cost a fortune to go there, so needless to say we’ll be secluded.” Arthur says cutting into his teak which slices like butter.

“Arthur, I don’t know what to say.” I shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t want you to say anything, Mrs. Covington. The look on your face says it all.” I begin to cut into my steak.

“Well, perhaps I can think of other ways to show my gratitude.” I say playfully.

“Well, I don’t want to deny you from giving me a proper thank-you.” Arthur says with a wink. My body gets hot all over and I can’t believe the effect he still has on me. I guess this is what it’s always like when fated mates.

We finish our gourmet meal and set Grace in a play pin. Arthur and I move to the center of the boat and sway in each other’s arms to the classical melody of the pianist.

“You know what your mom said was true.” Arthur whispers into my ear. My feelings of bliss begin to shrink at the mention of my mom and the things she’s been saying lately. I pull back to look at Arthur’s face which is still wearing a state of peace.

“Which was?” I ask.

“Most married couples don’t go back to live with the grooms’ parents.” Arthur says nonchalantly. I cringe.

“Ugh. You heard that?” I say, burrowing my face back into his chest to hide my embarrassment. “For what it’s worth, I love your parents house.” I say, my voice muffled against his polyester polo. “In fact, I know my mom does too.” I protest.

Arthur laughs and tilts my chin up to meet hers. “It’s all right. I was beginning to think we should find a place of our to raise Grace, anyways.” A surge of excitement washes over me. I never really thought about it, but how nice would it be having our own home.

“Really, you mean that?” I say, already picturing all the different types of houses I could picture us living in. We could have a cottage like what Bess had, or a grand mansion like his parents- but I’m leaning towards small and cozy.

“I do.” Arthur rests his chin on top of my head and pulls me back to his arms. “I’m thinking somewhere with a balcony that faces the sun rise so you can paint in the mornings, or evenings” Arthur adds after contemplating the lazy mornings we like to share.

“Or both.” I say, mostly teasing.

“Or both.” Arthur says, and he sounds serious.

“Life is going to be good, isn’t it?” I say with a sign of relief.

“Yes, it is, Little Wolf. Yes, it is.”