A/N: It feels so damn good writing this story. And it feels so damn good posting another chapter for you lot to read. And this is just ... a good moment for all of us. So let's not ruin it by rattling on and on and just get into it.
Shall we?
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. And I'm not making any money from this story.
Still half-asleep, Chuck frowned, confused by the soft rocking of his bed for a full fifteen seconds until he opened his eyes and became aware of his surroundings.
Right.
He was on a boat.
A trawler.
But where was the scuba instructor?
He sat up with a soft groan, pulling his feet in from where they'd been hanging off the end of the bed and yawning. It was a little embarrassing that he'd fallen asleep. Had she been put out at all, he wondered? Had it bothered her? He'd fallen asleep after sex before and the woman he'd been with had given him an ear-full about it.
When he moved his feet around to place them on the cool wooden floor beside the bed, the wooden frame creaked loud enough that it was a little worrisome. Wincing at the sound, he carefully eased himself to stand, realizing belatedly that he'd left his backpack in the galley. And now he was totally naked.
And damn it, Sarah'd taken the towel. He couldn't find it anywhere.
Chuck stood in the middle of the room in not even a single stitch of clothing, wracking his brain for what he should do. Where was Sarah, anyway?
He went to the porthole and pulled the curtain, letting the light flood in, and as he put a knee on the bed, hearing that awful creak and crack sound again, he looked out to see that they weren't moving. Of course they weren't moving. He'd hear the motor if they were moving.
All he could do was hope she was up on deck and not still down here, because he needed to grab his backpack and that meant stalking around belowdecks without a shred of anything covering him.
Taking a deep breath, he tiptoed over to the bedroom door and turned the handle, inching it open to peek first one way down the hallway, then the other way, before sneaking out of his little sanctuary.
He was halfway to the door of the galley when he heard the slam of the hatch and the sound of someone climbing down the ladder. In no time at all, he heard a feminine clear of the throat, and as he spun around to face her, he belatedly reached down to gather himself in both hands in an attempt to maintain some shred of dignity.
"Uh…hey. Hi." He felt heat spilling through him in the worst way, his face surely on fire.
And for her part, Sarah seemed mightily amused by the sight of him all hunched over and attempting to cover himself. He felt ridiculous and couldn't exactly see the humor in it at the moment.
"You're awake, I see." She was in her bikini again, with just the cami covering it, her long legs bare, feet bare, her hair that had fallen around her shoulders while they were in bed together pulled back up into a bun atop her head.
"Um. Yep. I, uh…" He pulled his lips between his teeth and then made a popping sound. "Um."
"How'd you sleep?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, closing the distance between them with slow, measured steps. And he thought she was enjoying this way too much.
"Uh, f-fine. Yeah, good. Um. So my clothes are in my backpack. And I left my backpack in the, uh, the galley. Ha." He cleared his throat and readjusted his hands a little, inching away from her as she came closer.
"Yeah. I know you did. That's why I went and got it for you. It's in the bedroom. Figured you'd want to put clothes on when you woke up."
Chuck's jaw fell open. "What?"
She chuckled. "Yeah, it's in there," she said, pointing at the door. "I grabbed it for you after you fell asleep." She pushed the door open and went inside. He followed after her and watched from the doorway as she grabbed his backpack where it sat the end of the bed on the floor.
"Oh. Well. This is awkward," he murmured. "Sorry. I, uh, I don't usually run around boats naked."
Sarah laughed and he saw just a hint of mischief in her eyes before she tossed the backpack to him. He caught it in both hands with a soft yelp.
And then he watched as her eyes fell to the area he'd just been covering with his hands. To her credit, she looked up at the ceiling almost immediately, pursing her lips, but a smile in her features nevertheless. And when she cleared her throat, he lowered the backpack to provide the cover.
"Thanks," he said flatly.
This time, Sarah let out a giggle, closing the distance and leaning in to kiss his cheek slowly. "I'll be up on deck when you're, um…" She flirtatiously dropped her gaze again and he lifted a prim eyebrow, shifting the backpack to properly protect himself from her roving eyes. "…dressed."
And then she was gone, and he wasn't sure if she meant for him to see the clandestine look she threw over her shoulder, the way she took in every last bit of his six foot four inch frame before ducking out of the room.
}o{
Chuck nearly jumped at the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He'd been in another world all day, it had seemed like, and he'd completely forgotten about the contraption that practically controlled his entire existence when he wasn't on vacation.
He grumbled to himself, wondering if there was some sort of catastrophe at BarTech he'd have to solve today, even though he was on vacation. Such was life with that damn business of his these days, which was why he'd needed a break in the first place.
But when he looked at his phone, he saw the tell-tale beard and the thumbs up his best friend had flashed for the picture he'd taken of him a year ago during a beach trip, and he found himself grinning as he lifted the phone to his ear.
"Hey, buddy!"
"Chuck! My man! I'm not interrupting a luau or anything, am I? Are you getting…lei'd?" Morgan laughed for a good ten seconds at his own joke as Chuck patiently waited, squinting out at the water and shaking his head.
"That was bad, even for you, Morgan."
"Aw, come on. Okay, fine. Bad jokes aside, how's it goin'? Jump off any cliffs yet?"
Chuck made a face. "No, and I'm not planning to."
"You know what I mean! Cliff diving! I'll send you a pic when we get off the phone. You gotta try it. I hear it's life-affirming."
"Or…death-affirming. You know, 'cause you'll probably die," Chuck drawled.
"Man, you gotta do it. But that's not why I called.""Oh, you didn't call to tell me to go jump off a cliff?"
"No," came the slightly snotty reply. "I did not. I was just checkin' up on you. Ellie said she talked to you the other day and you actually did the scuba dive thing. Seriously? Did you? Did you really do it, man?"
"Uh…" He smoothed a hand down his shirt and leaned back against the wooden railing behind him. "I did it. Yep."
"Dude! Ha! I knew you would! I told Ellie and Awesome. I told them you would. Like, they were really ridin' the Doubt Chuck Train and I was like, 'Nope. My buddy's gonna do it. He's gonna conquer his fear today.' And you did it. You proved me right. Thank you, Chuck."
The computer genius chuckled and shook his head. "You're welcome, Morgan. But I have to ask…Did, uh, Ellie tell you anything else?"
"Whyyy whatever do you meee— , she did."
"Is that the real reason why you're calling?"
"Of course it is, man. ARE YOU SPENDING TIME WITH A HOT SCUBA WOMAN, CHUCK?"
Chuck quickly pulled the phone away from his ear and winced. "Ah…Jesus, Morgan." He brought it back and rolled his eyes. "I should've known she'd tell everyone."
"Everyone? Who's everyone? Just me and Awesome. But Chuck! Dude! I should've been the first person you told, man! You know I have the best advice for wooing the ladies. The beard gets it done."
"Oh, good point. Let me just grow a beard in two point five seconds before I head back over to where she's talking to her boss right now," he said, sneaking a glance towards the Scuba Shack's window, behind which he saw Sarah and Volkoff chatting.
"I don't mean a beard literally, man, come on. Be realistic. Can you even grow a beard in two point five years, though? Like, that's the real question." He laughed as Chuck cursed at him. "No, seriously, just give her the phone and let me talk to her. I promise you I will get you laid tonight."
"Get the hell out of here. I'm not giving her the phone. I'm not letting you talk to her."
"Come on, Chuck! I'm gifting you a special night."
"I'm more than capable of handling myself with women, first of all. I've got it. And secondly, she isn't something anyone gets to gift to anyone else. She's a human being. A…flawless…incredibly hot…nice human being. With an unfairly attractive sense of humor."
"What's she look like?"
"Imagine Helen of Troy but way gorgeous-er."
"And not poison?" Morgan quipped, before singing, "That girl is poooisoonnnnnnnn."
"She's definitely not poison."
"Helen of Troy? Uh, I beg to differ."
"I dunno. Sometimes I think she was just misunderstoo—Sarah, Morgan. I'm talking about Sarah," he snarked.
"Her name is Sarah, huh?" He gasped. "If her last name is Connor, run. Right now."
Chuck tilted his head. "Away from her? Or to her?"
There was a pause. "I like the way your mind works, man. I really do. See, this is why our friendship is so timeless."
"Sure, Morgs. And her last name isn't Connor, so I don't have to worry about any killer robots. I do have to worry about losing my damn mind around her, however, because she is…" He was at a loss for words as he watched her laugh at something Alexei said, her profile lit up in the afternoon sun coming through the window.
"Hot?"
"Yeah, but…I dunno, buddy. She's pretty special."
"Well, she got you to go into the ocean. So that's somethin'."
"I know, right?"
"Well, listen. I'm happy for you, man. But you need to be careful. I don't usually jump on the Ellie-Advice-Bandwagon, because my advice is better than hers—I know the ins and outs of Chuck Bartowski better than she does, I think," he amended with no small amount of ego in his tone, "but she was right when she said don't bring up…you know…J-I-L-L."
Chuck rolled his eyes. "Why'd you spell her name?"
"I dunno, man. Maybe she's like Bloody Mary and she appears in shitty person form if you say her name. I am currently standing in front of a mirror, and I don't ever want to see that freakin' succubus again."
He couldn't help but laugh at his best friend, shaking his head. "I'm not going to talk about my exes, don't worry."
"Did I hear that right? Exes? As in plural?"
"Okay, now comes the part where I tell you to jump off a cliff, you asshole." He laughed as Morgan pretended to be offended.
But then Chuck glanced up and saw Sarah grab her jacket from the chair inside. He figured she was headed out to join him now. "Hey, Morgs, I've gotta go."
"Helen comin'? Let me talk to her."
"No." Chuck turned away from the building.
"Come onnnnnn lemme just have her ear for a sec! I will wax poetic about how you're a paramour without rival!"
"You will not. I'm hanging up on you."
"Let me talk to her!"
"Maybe in some alternate universe, dude, but you're not talking to her and I'm hanging up on you." And when he turned back, he didn't catch whatever Morgan said because he found Sarah standing right in front of him, her arms folded as she waited patiently, amused curiosity on her face. "I love you bye," he muttered into the phone, cutting Morgan off and hanging up. "Hey. Hi. Just … phone call from home. Ha."
"Not talking to whom?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"What? No. Nothing." He stuffed his phone in his pocket.
She just fixed him with a long stare, her features unchanging, and it made him fidget in place.
And then he finally sighed and scratched the back of his head. "That was my best friend, Morgan. I might've…mentioned you to Ellie, my, uh, my sister, and she told him about you."
"You told your sister about me?"
"Yeaaaaah…" She seemed somewhat surprised, and he rushed on. "Not everything. I didn't…I mean, of course, not everything. That'd be…" He coughed quietly. "No, just the thing about you helping me overcome my fear so her money wasn't wasted. That's all. Heh."
Sarah smirked. "Your friend…Morgan, is it?" He nodded. "He wants to talk to me? The scuba instructor who took you diving two days ago?"
"Uhhhh…"
"Why?"
But she was smart, Chuck knew, which meant she had at least an idea of why. And that Chuck had told Ellie more than that Sarah'd coaxed him to scuba dive the other day. That they'd spent more time together since then. And he was embarrassed enough that he kept the ruse going.
"He's…a weirdo. We can just leave it at that. Love the guy. But, uh…yeah…" Chuck shrugged.
"Okay…" Her smirk grew into a full smile and she mercifully seemed to decide to let it drop.
"Hey, um…so I snuck the bedsheets off the boat," she said, lifting her bulging knapsack for him to see. "I should wash them now so I can get them back onto the True Love tomorrow when I come back to take customers out on a dive. I can drop you off at your hotel—"
"Oh. Yeah. Sure. No worries. Yeah." He felt a little bereft, but he thought he played it off okay. Or not.
She gave him a bit of a side glance, looking up through her eyelashes. "Oooorrr you can come with? I've got some salmon I need to cook before it goes bad. You can help me eat it. If you like salmon." Her eyes widened. "You don't have to," she rushed, putting a hand out.
"No, I love salmon. I adore it. I actually…I make a pretty mean salmon. Not gonna lie. I mean…if you're game to let me handle your salmon."
She tilted her head. "You can handle my salmon."
"Gross."
"You started it."
"Did I, though?"
"Mmmmmhm." She giggled, shaking her head. "You wanna stop by your place first? You can change or shower."
"Is that okay?" Then he paused. "Wait, better question: Do I smell or somethin'?"
Shaking her head with a laugh, she walked around him to the parking lot behind the Scuba Shack where her red convertible was parked. He followed behind with his hands in his pockets, careful not to dance his way to the passenger side door the way he wanted to.
}o{
Chuck stared down at the salmon on the butcher block. It would take a bit for it to thaw all the way, and he pondered why she'd said she had salmon she needed to eat before it went bad when she'd had the salmon in the freezer. Frozen salmon didn't go bad, did it? At least, not as fast as if she'd bought it fresh.
Of course, she could've just said that because she wanted him to join her for dinner and it was a good excuse. He liked to think that was it. One of those 'I have all of this food and I don't want it to go to waste' reasons to persuade someone to hang around. He was probably way off base. But he'd go on thinking it because it muffled that self-doubting voice that piped up whenever Sarah was around.
It was extremely difficult to keep it at bay in normal circumstances, that self-doubt. But even with the steady incline in business at BarTech, the fact that he could live comfortably now and then some, the age-old remnants of Charles Irving Bartowski would flood back. The tall skinny nerd who talked too much about comic book heroes and which Star Wars character he'd like to get stranded on an island with (R2, of course). The guy who was regularly passed over by women even in college surrounded by brainiacs like him, who eventually found a girlfriend who seemed to think he was pretty great only for him to discover she'd been cheating with one of his frat brothers for a good chunk of their relationship.
And if he'd thought Jill was out of his league…
Sarah was league MVP and he was the guy who swept up the peanut shells in the stands after every game.
With that thought now planted in his brain, he was almost startled to hear the league MVP's voice directed at him.
"I'm just going to toss this in the wash and take a shower, if that's okay with you."
He looked up from the salmon and watched as she tugged the sheets from her knapsack. He felt himself blush a little as the memory of her fingers tightening in his curls swept to the forefront of his mind, the sound of her hand slapping against the curved wall of the cabin above his head, the look on her face…
Shaking himself, he cleared his throat, blushing.
"Sure! Yeah! Of course! You waited around for me to shower in my hotel room," he said, scratching the back of his neck.
"Cool." She smiled. "Hey, I've got a patio out that door if you wanna check it out. You can catch a perfect breeze out there. Oh, but if you go out, make sure the screen door is shut. I get a lot of bees. Which I love, just…not in my house so much. Especially not carpenter bees. Those suckers are massive."
"Got it."
She stopped at the threshold into the hallway. "Oh, um, if you don't want to go outside, I've got the TV in here. And, um, the couch. You can sit on that." She nibbled on her lip. "Anyway, uh, help yourself to anything. I mean, like, the fridge. I've got beers and, um…Glasses and stuff are in the cupboards. I'll only be a few."
She ducked out of sight then.
He stood at the butcher block and looked down at the packaged fish again, before he turned on his heel to look at her cabinets. He heard Sarah shut the washer door in the laundry room and the loud beep as she prepped it to do its job.
Chuck spent a few minutes fretting while grabbing himself a glass of water—about where the glasses were, if she used the dispenser on the fridge or the sink, if he should just grab a beer instead or use one of the bottles of water in the fridge, and was he even using the right glass? Would she care which glass he used?
But eventually, he settled on her couch with a glass of water—no ice because that was another predicament he didn't want to fret over—and he turned on her television, flicking around mindlessly until he accidentally drifted off to sleep.
}o{
He woke up suddenly.
There was a loud clatter or something.
He blinked and rubbed a hand down his face, groaning quietly and frowning in confusion as he looked at the TV. The Golden Girls were walking around their kitchen with their bubble hair and their pastel sweaters, snarking at one another.
And then he heard a feminine voice from somewhere behind the couch let out a soft curse and he blinked again in confusion. He shifted on the leather couch to look down at it, and then turned onto his back to look up at the ceiling, before finally pushing himself to sit up.
Chuck knew where he was now. He was in Sarah the scuba instructor's house. On her couch, to be exact. He must have nodded off again while watching TV Land reruns.
Turning to look over the back of the couch, he saw Sarah in her kitchen, standing there with a frown on her face, her brow furrowed, staring down at something on the floor in consternation.
Grabbing his empty water glass, he shuffled across the room into the kitchen and stopped suddenly as he saw specks of some sort of yellowish spice scattered all over her wood floor. "Oh. Wow. What happened here?"
"Uuuuhhhh…" She winced, twisting her mouth to the side and shrugging adorably. "I was going to start seasoning the salmon before I fired up the grill out back, and per usual, the quieter and more careful I tried to be, the more sound I made. I dropped the garlic powder."
Sarah knelt down then and picked up the little canister, lifting it to her face and eyeing it. Then she glanced back down at the dusting of garlic powder all over the floor. "How gross would it be to just sweep it back into this?" She winced again, shaking the canister and lifting her gaze to his.
"Uh, depends. How long has it been since you cleaned this floor?" That got him yet another wince and he chuckled. "It's up to you. I don't really mind floor garlic."
She sniffed in amusement and shook her head. "I'm not doing it. But I need to buy some more garlic powder next time I'm at the store. Not even sure if this is enough for our dinner now."
"Don't need it. If you give me access to your spices, I'll conjure up something tasty." He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged as she lifted an eyebrow at him and climbed back up to her full height.
"If I give you full access to my…spices?" she smirked. He gave her a flat look and she giggled with her tongue between her teeth. "We have a deal. They're in the cupboard behind you. I'll, uh, clean this up and get the grill started out back for you. Asparagus is in the fridge. You just have to clean and season it. A little salt and pepper, some olive oil."
Chuck gaped as she grabbed a broom and dustpan from the corner of the kitchen. "Oh, okay. I offer to season the fish and suddenly I'm making the whole dinner? Sheesh." He grinned, wrinkling his nose.
She shot him a look as she started sweeping up the floor. "Whatever happened to you handling my salmon?"
Throwing his head back with a laugh, he went to the cupboard and started rummaging for the right spices. He lost himself in the search, though, enough to the point where he jumped a little at the sound of her voice close by a minute later.
"Hey, I'm sorry I woke you up earlier. I was trying to let you nap. I came in here after my shower and found you asleep on the couch in the most uncomfortable-looking position. Today tuckered you out, huh?" She gifted him with a slow smile.
Smirking, he grabbed the last ingredient he needed and shut the cupboard again, peering at her with a mixture of bottles and canisters clutched in his hands. "All of that sea water and ssss—the other thing…we did…"
She looked away with a one note giggle through her nose, and he noticed the way her cheeks went a bit pink. It filled him with warmth. "Swimming used to tucker me out, too, but now I think I'm just used to it." The innuendo in her tone was not lost on him as she leaned in close, the garlic in the dustpan she held pungent, even as she pushed it away from them. "I could swim all day, I think."
His jaw fell open teasingly and it made her laugh as she moved away from him again to dispose of the garlic in the trash.
Chuck mixed the seasoning in a bowl Sarah provided him with and watched as she slid the back door open and wandered onto the patio to start her grill. The sun was just starting to go down and it was the perfect amount of light to watch her as she bent to her task.
Even in capris, the woman's legs seemed to go on for miles. It was unbelievable.
But as she turned to come back inside, he made sure to bend to his own task, liberally covering the non-skin side of the two pieces of salmon in his concoction.
"So what is all of this anyway?" she asked as she rounded the divider between the kitchen and living room to come to a stop beside him.
"Magic. And butter. There's a lot of melted butter on here, so I hope you like butter."Sarah giggled. "I do. I mean, I'm no Paul Deen, but I like me some butter."
That made him laugh as he picked up the plate with the salmon and turned it towards her with a flourish. "Ta daaaaaa. Do you have foil?"
"Oh! Duh!" She grabbed it for him and they worked together, flattening it and lifting the salmon to sit on it. She watched him curl the edges up so that it was almost like a basket. Then he grabbed the lemon and sliced it, dropping the slices around the fish.
"Salt'N'Peppa?"
She gave him a closed mouth smile and ground some pepper over the fish and lemon slices, then shook some salt onto it. "Voila!"
"Voila!"
He folded the foil over to create a packet and picked it up.
Together, they went outside and got the salmon onto the grill, and as he closed the lid, Sarah took her phone out of her pocket and set a timer on it. As she slid the phone back into her pocket, she glanced over her shoulder towards the water. "We'd probably have to climb onto the roof to actually watch the sun set, since it sets on the other side of the island, but I still get gorgeous colors this way." She turned to look at him again. "Want some wine? I've got an old pinot noir I've been saving for this salmon."
He blinked at how fast she changed the subject. "Uh…"
"I have hard stuff, too, if you want that instead. I've done quite a bit of bartending and I can make you anything you want." She paused and made a face. "Er, depending on what I have. I'll have to look."
"I might take you up on that later, but the pinot noir sounds great for now."
She beamed. "'Kay. I'll be right back. Enjoy the view. S'what the chairs are for." He followed her gaze to the little patio table and chairs and when he turned back, she was already halfway inside.
It took a while for her to come back, and the sky was getting darker, the orange and pink becoming more of a deep red and purple. When he heard her come back out, he swiveled in his chair and smile. But seeing she was balancing something wrapped in foil atop the glasses of wine in each hand, he leapt up and hurried towards her, taking the bundle off of the rims of the wine glasses. "Oh…oh man, the asparagus. That's what took you so long. I suck! I'm so sorry!"
She shook her head and laughed. "Don't worry about it. I just remembered right when I got inside."
"I didn't really mean it when I complained about making the whole dinner. I just forgot."
She laughed again. "It's okay. I forgot, too."
Chuck went to the barbecue, opening the lid, ignoring the smoke that assailed his face, and dropping the asparagus next to the salmon. "It should cook faster than the salmon anyway."
They sat at the table again and enjoyed the view in silence as they waited, sipping their wine. Chuck took the comfortable silence as an opportunity to ponder this situation. He'd spent virtually all day with this woman again. And in spite of the countless awkward moments expected when two people who'd just met were getting to know one another, he felt an ever-increasing amount of calm around her. Barely two days—or was it three?—had gone by since he'd met the scuba instructor, and he was so at ease in her presence.
As much as he liked people, as much as he enjoyed meeting people and making friends and getting to know them, it was entirely different when there was a romantic angle. He was different. He lost his footing. Even with women he wasn't all that into, if it was a date he had a terrible habit of becoming an idiot.
Sarah Walker was an exception…and then she wasn't…
She had him all mixed up. She was an exception because she made him feel at ease and comfortable. And then she wasn't an exception in that he was still racked with self-doubt in moments when the quiet settled over them. Like now, for instance, as he snuck a glance at her profile while she took a delicate sip of her pinot, her tongue darting out to lick her lips as she swallowed.
She was insanely vibrant, full of spirit and adventure and life. She was both laid back and wild, and the juxtaposition of those two things in her lit a flame in him.
She set off a spark deep inside of his body, his soul, even. No one had ever made him feel that spark before she had stepped onto that boat a few days ago. Had that been when he'd felt the first spark? When he first saw her?
He didn't think so. It had been a slowly growing warmth inside of him. The spark hadn't happened until they were underwater, in that tunnel, maybe. And before that, he'd just trusted her, thought she was gorgeous.
It didn't matter now.
But what he felt around her seemed…intense. More intense than he'd bargained for. It wasn't just physical attraction; there was something much deeper that was tugging at him all the time.
And he felt the need to maybe take a step back, douse the flame a little, resist that spark. Because he was still befuddled by all of this. He'd sworn not to look a gift horse in the mouth when he'd first asked her out and she'd said yes. And the way she'd stayed around for the rest of the night when he'd asked, and how she'd invited him for dinner again the next night.
What in the hell was he doing right that he was sitting here with her now? What had he done to earn the way she'd let him touch her in the cabin on that trawler earlier? And God help him, the way she'd touched him, too…
"So I have a question."
He cleared his throat, trying not to blush. He itched the back of his ear. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Chuck leaned in a bit and smiled, causing her to smile back.
"You could've gone anywhere in the world. I mean, I'm making an assumption. Hawaii isn't cheap, especially not this island. And the hotel you're in isn't exactly cheap, either."
"It isn't?" He raised his eyebrows, sitting back against his chair and sipping his wine.
She leaned in this time. "You're fishing so I'll just admit flat-out that I researched the hotel to see how much one of those suites cost. And it's a little insane. I'm not proud of myself for doing that, but there it is."
He couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head in awe at her. She was something else. "Checking up on me?"
"No," she snarked, setting her glass down with a snippy click.
"Wanted to make sure I'm not some bum who pretends fancy suites are his to impress 'the chicks'?" He did air quotes to make sure she knew he'd never actually call women chicks seriously, and she laughed at him, shaking her head.
"No. Stop it. I guess I'm just wondering why here? I know, I know, it's Hawaii. Paradise and all that. But for the money you shelled out, you could've literally gone wherever you wanted. I know a flight from LAX couldn't have been cheap, either." She leaned her chin on her palm, setting her elbow on the table.
Laughing again, he glanced out at the horizon, taking another sip of his wine. "Like you said, it's Hawaii." He shrugged.
"Yeah, but with your open sea phobia, you chose an island. It's surrounded by water on all sides." She winced. "Sorry, I usually have more tact. I know you probably don't want to be reminded of that."
He chuckled and set his wine down. "No, you're right. It was dumb."
"No, it wasn't. Not at all. I'm just curious."
"I could have gone to…I don't know, some small Italian town on the Mediterranean. I considered it, but…" He stopped, thoughtful for a few moments. And then he swung his gaze to hers and got lost for another few moments. "It has such a small population compared to everywhere else, ya know? I didn't want to just disappear into a tourist trap."
"Hawaii is kind of, like, the ultimate tourist trap," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, I know. I mean, that's who you make your living off of. But there's still an almost untouched-by-humans feel it. Certain parts of it. What I mean to say is that you can really disappear here and feel…alone…but, like, in a good way." He paused. "On top of all of that, one of my employees honeymooned here. In Kauai. Actually, he and his husband stayed on the other side of the island, I think. But he said it's the most relaxing island. Perfect for if you want to just unplug and forget your worries."
"Hakuna Matata," she chirped, lifting her glass in a cheers gesture and giggling, before taking a sip.
He laughed and pointed. "Heeey, exactlyyyy."
She was about to say something, but her phone began to beep in her pocket. "Salmon's done!"
"Salmon's done!" Chuck repeated emphatically, jumping to his feet and hurrying to the grill.
They set up to eat on the patio and Sarah brought a candle out to put in the center of the table. She lit it as Chuck distributed the food onto their plates.
By the time they were halfway through their meal, the sky had begun to darken, the water in the distance taking on a more royal blue color, the sky a deep purple.
"I have a question for you, this time," he said, interrupting the comfortable silence between them as he flaked off a bit of the perfectly tender fish and put it in his mouth. He was quietly pleased with how the flavor turned out, because he'd been eager to impress. And the satisfied hum he got when she'd tried her filet had made him light up from the inside out.
"Okay." Her shoulders bobbed in a shrug.
"Do-Do you get customers like me often?" She furrowed her brow in question, sipping her wine. "I-I mean, customers like me who…er…are presumptuous enough to ask you out." He winced when she lifted her eyebrows. "Sorry, I feel like that sounded bad."
"You said something similar the other day, after the dive. After asking me out," she said.
"I did? Did I? …Oh. Right. I did. That was me making assumptions. And this time I'm asking. Which…doesn't make it much better, does it? Oops." He cleared his throat and pulled his lips between his teeth, wrinkling his nose in another wince. "I just mean that there are probably—It just—You are exactly the type of woman people who are attracted to women would be attracted to." He huffed. "That's not what I'm—Why am I sucking so hard right now? Oh my God." He shut his eyes and put his silverware down, rubbing his temples.
She giggled. "Are we doing another thing where we talk about how weird it is that neither of us is already taken? Or are you just trying a very complicated way of telling me you think I'm pretty? I really don't know what you're getting at," she teased. When he peeked up at her, he saw she was pleased either way, and gracious, and understanding, and he was overwhelmed by how much he genuinely liked this woman.
He laughed at himself and made his fingers into a gun, mimicking shooting his own foot, and that made her laugh in return.
"Chuck, it's okay. You're fine," she chuckled, pouring him some more wine.
"Thank you," he muttered, taking a big gulp of it as she handed it back to him. "I was trying to tell you that I think you're pretty—I mean, more than pretty, way more. But I guess I also want to know if I'm the only guy who was arrogant, er, brazen, enough to actually ask you out on a date. I mean, after all, you were just doing your job. You know?"
He was doing the exact opposite of not looking a gift horse in the mouth and he really was shooting himself in the foot. Both at the same time. He wanted to go back to five minutes ago, and this time he'd strengthen his filter so that he didn't go down this stupid path again.
"Hey." She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "I can literally see you unraveling right now. Stop it." He looked up at her in surprise. "I'm not offended. I'm not upset. I don't expect every sentence, every word, that comes out of your mouth to be perfect, Chuck. I've only known you, like, three days at the most, which means I don't know you. But that also means that I've been keeping an open mind about you. And while you're certainly not perfect—I'm not either, no matter what you might think—you're a really good guy. So good it's almost obscene."
That made a sudden spurt of laughter come out of him, and she grinned, letting out a soft one-note giggle through her nose that had him melting.
"Calm down. Please. Don't walk on eggshells. I know we've just met, but please…We're both mere humans, here." He nodded and smiled quietly. "And don't apologize," she cut him off as if knowing he was about to. "It isn't necessary. Trust me, I think it's sweet you're having a meltdown about me after only three days." He blushed scarlet and she giggled. "Stop losing your shit thinking I'm going to run away screaming if you say the wrong thing. I'm made of tougher stuff than that."
"You're right. I'm sorry." She gave him a flat look. "Oh…I didn't just apologize. You were hearing things."
She laughed and shook her head. "Good. And I'll answer your question. No, you definitely are not the only customer who's asked me out. But you are the only one I've said yes to."
He just stared at her for a moment, and then he lowered his chin, squinting dubiously. "Was it because you saw me crying?"
Sarah burst into laughter and let go of his hand, sitting back against her chair. "So what if it was? I like a sensitive man." She laughed again and shook her head as he chuckled. "No. It wasn't pity. And you need to listen to me the first time I tell you things, because I told you when you first asked me out that there was something there, between us. I was pretty clear about that." Then she winced. "Sort of."
"No, it-it was clear. And I'm listening. I am. I'm sorry, it's the—I'm a mess. Full honesty. Like I said that night, or-or I guess the morning after when we were at your old restaurant, I've got some problems with confidence…or I guess, a lack thereof. And it has a way of rearing its ugly head even when beautiful women invite me to have dinner out on their back patios with the whole…romantic lighting thing and the wine," he said, gesturing to the candle in the middle of the table. "I am trying."
"I know. And you're sweet, Chuck, for trying. But you need to understand that I don't just invite random people out into one of Scuba Shack's boats for a fun dive. Those boats are expensive and there's stuff in there that's important to Alexei and to the rest of us for the business. And I didn't even have to think about whether or not I could trust you in that situation, Chuck. I like you. That's why you're sitting here now, on my back patio with the whole romantic lighting thing and the wine." She smirked and stabbed her fish with the fork, putting a piece in her mouth and chewing slowly. "Mmm, and it really helps that you season my salmon so well."
He choked and she laughed at him, pushing his glass of wine closer. He waved his hand and shook his head, taking some deep breaths. "We really need to stop with the salmon innuendo. It's so freakin' weird."
She laughed even harder and nodded. "It is, yeah. But I'm kind of a weirdo, so…" She shrugged and beamed at him.
"Easily the hottest weirdo on the planet, so I think I'm good with it."
"Shall we cheers to that?" she asked, lifting her wine, no end to the amusement in her gorgeous features.
"Oh yes. Let's do."
They clinked glasses and took a sip, and Chuck knew that proverbial step back he'd told himself to take was sitting in a garbage can somewhere in a boundless void.
}o{
"So is it just open ocean, or does swimming in a pool also get to you?" she asked, folding her dish towel and setting it to the side.
They'd taken only twenty minutes to do dishes once they'd finished their slow, leisurely, comfortable dinner. And because he was a sappy wreck, he'd noticed just how well they'd worked together, dipping their hands in and out of the sink in tandem to make the process go quicker.
"You mean my phobia?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Uh, well, it's really only the ocean and everything that goes with that memory, you know? Being out on a boat, feeling the water underneath me. I can't swim out in the ocean where I can't reach the ground under me."
"So pools are okay."
"Pools are okay."
"Huh." She took his glass and poured him more wine, handing it back. "What about, like, on TV?"
"TV?"
"Yeah, like, shows about the ocean and sea life and all of that. Things like 'Blue Planet' or documentaries where they send cameras into the Titanic where it rests on the ocean floor."
"Uh, no that's okay. Because I'm safe here on the ground. If I watched that stuff and was on a boat out in the ocean, I might freak out." Then he paused. "What's 'Blue Planet'?"
Her jaw fell open. "Have you never even heard of it?" He blinked. "Oh, I need to get my phone and document this, I think. A reference I've made that you don't know."
Chuck laughed, rocking forward from where he stood leaning against the kitchen counter. "I mean, I fully expect you to know more about the ocean than I do. You teach scuba diving. And I'm assuming through context 'Blue Planet' is an ocean thing."
She got a look on her face then and her gaze snapped to his, a growing smile on her face. "We're watching it."
"Uh—wha—?"
"C'mon." She lunged across the kitchen at him and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the kitchen and over to the couch. "You're going to learn about the ocean, Chuck. You can't say no; I made you dinner."
"Well, teeeechnically, I made dinner. But you definitely provided it, so that's a moot point. Thank you for dinner, by the way."
She giggled and played with the hem of his shirt. It was flirtatious and he saw something in her eye after, something bashful like maybe it had been an unconscious gesture. He silently willed her not to stifle those kinds of gestures. It made him feel better about how all of this felt. The strength of it. Or maybe intensity? Was depth the right word? He did feel like things were pretty deep.
Sarah grabbed the boxset out of the nearby cabinet and went to her player, getting to work. "I'm going to put the episode on called 'The Deep'."
"Heh. That's funny."
"What?"
He widened his eyes. "What? Huh? Oh, nothing."
The scuba instructor eyed him a bit funny, but then she ignored it, going back to putting the episode on. As it started, he sat down on the couch, both of their wine glasses on the coffee table.
He was silent during it for the first few minutes, enthralled, but then he started getting the urge to make a few jokes about the strangest-looking creatures, and held his tongue in case it wasn't something she'd appreciate as much as Morgan might. Ellie sometimes gave him a side-eye when they watched things together and he became too 'joke-y', as she put it. Just watch, please, she'd drawl at him.
But then Sarah snorted, shifting on the couch to lean against a pillow jammed in the corner and lifting her legs to prop them on his lap. He froze as she gestured to the creature on the screen. "I had a chemistry teacher in high school who looked like that thing. He didn't have that glowing light in front of his face, though."
Chuck laughed, keeping his hands at his sides, careful not to put them on her legs. "Pretty cool there's an Alien reference in this, though. I feel like our nerdospheres are coming together in this."
She snorted at that. "Oh, see this one is great. Sometimes after a dive, I'm so hungry, I'd really love to just unhinge my jaw like that."
"You wanna be a gulper eel?"
"Yes!" she giggled. "Can you imagine being able to eat something as big as you are?"
"I'd love to do that." Then he paused. "Okay, I can't stop thinking about the people in the little bubble craft who are capturing all of this footage. Like, the tiniest crack in the glass of that thing and you're done. It takes, what… I don't know how long it would take them to get to the surface. Longer than it would take for them all to drown down there with the freaky eels and hairy anglers. Like, half an hour maybe?"
"They said how deep."
"I could do the math, then." He grabbed his phone and started researching, getting numbers, and then he sat back against the couch, staring at Sarah's ceiling, running figures in his head.
"Wait, are you literally doing the math in your head right now?"
"Mhm."
"How?!"
He lowered his head and smirked. "If I look at a solid surface—like your ceiling, for instance—I can visualize the numbers there and do the math."
"That's some genius-level shit. Don't do it."
"Why?"
"That's so impressive I might jump your bones, honestly, and we have a lot of learning to do here about our blue planet, so…" She said it so matter-of-factly he almost didn't blush. But he did, and she teased him by poking his thigh with her toe and giggling.
"It's not even hard math. It's not like I'm calculating a rocket landing on Mars or something."
"I get the Stanford thing; that's all I'm saying."
He laughed and shrugged, his hands up by his shoulders. When he lowered them, they landed naturally on her legs, and neither of them said a word about it.
It was halfway through their third episode in a row when Chuck glanced over, having noticed the way they'd both finally settled into a comfortable silence. He realized why it had become so silent when he saw she was asleep, slumped to the side, her face pressed into the back of the couch, arms crossed over her chest.
He really didn't want to watch too long because that felt really creepy, but he'd never seen her sleep. It felt weird thinking that, because he'd only known her for three days, but she'd seen him asleep at least three times now, two of those times just today. So…fair game, he thought. She looked younger with her features so at peace like that, and he wondered again how old she was. For someone who'd traveled so much, he felt like she should be older than he was, but appearances were often deceiving and…it didn't matter.
Chuck shook his head and rolled his eyes at himself, leaning forward to grab the remote and stop the episode. She didn't budge. He checked his watch and saw that it was barely ten o'clock. Then again, she hadn't had two naps the way he had.
He was in a quandary. On the one hand, he could just keep watching the show and let her sleep. On the other hand, he could turn everything off, and get out of here, let her turn in for the night. He could easily call a Lyft to take him home.
Deciding on that since he was pretty tired himself, he shifted to the side a little, trying to carefully ease her legs off of his lap without waking her up.
He stretched and turned off all of her electronics, even going so far as to put the disc back in its case and stick the boxset back in the cupboard where he'd seen her get it out from a few hours earlier. By the time he was ready to call for a Lyft, Sarah had shifted more onto her back. It looked very uncomfortable, and Chuck knew from past experience that falling asleep on the couch with his head like that had meant waking up with the worst neck pain ever.
Chuck decided he couldn't leave her like this. And with a wince, he walked around the coffee table and knelt down beside her, carefully slipping his arms under her body and lifting her into his arms. Her head lolled onto his shoulder, and she unconsciously pulled her arms in, tucking her fists up against his chest.
But as he shimmied out from between the couch and table, he knocked his toe against the wooden leg and let out an "Ow!".
Sarah squirmed in his arms and suddenly he found wide blue eyes staring up at him.
"Uhhh…erm…hi."
She glanced around, confused. "Hi."
"S-Sorry, I—See, you fell asleep when we were watching the—I was going to leave. I turned it all off and I was gonna give you a blanket and just go, but then you looked like you'd wake up with neck pain if I left you here, s-so I was just going to put you in bed." He cleared his throat and then just stood there awkwardly with her still in his arms. "Sh-Should I put you down? I'll put you d—"
But as he stooped, she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, snuggling in closer to his chest, holding on tight. He straightened again.
"That's okay, you don't…have to."
"Oh."
He stood there for another few seconds, not really knowing what to do."I mean, I am tired…if you want to still…"
"Oh. Oh, right." He started walking again, stepping into the hallway. "I don't, um, really know where your room is."
"Oh. Of course you don't. End of the hallway."
He nodded and carried her to the door, turning to shoulder it open so that he could step inside. Moonlight spilled in through the large window, illuminating her bed in a peaceful, blue hue. He couldn't tell much about her by looking at her bedroom, however, as it was rather sparsely decorated. There wasn't much on the walls, and she had just the necessary furniture. No personal photographs or anything like that.
He ignored the rest and went to her bed, gently setting her down on it.
"Well, thank you."
"Was that weird?" he asked as he straightened, putting his hands in his pockets. "It was kinda weird, right?"
"A little," she said with a shrug. "I'm sorry I woke up and ruined it. It was a sweet, though, and a pretty romantic idea."
Chuck just wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "It happens to the best of us."
He felt stupid for that response, but she just giggled through her nose and draped herself against her pillow.
"So, um…I'll call a ride from Lyft, then. Thanks for dinner, Sarah."
She sat up and blinked at him in the semi-darkness. "Lyft?"
"Yeah it's like Uber, but—"
"No, I know what Lyft is, but why would you call them? Just stay here." He blinked and she pursed her lips. "Unless you don't want to stay. Obviously you don't have to. I can just drive you—"
"No, you're tired. And I don't want to trouble you."
"Then stay. I'll take you back tomorrow before my dive."
Chuck took a deep breath. "O-Okay. I'll stay." He cleared his throat. "I can sleep on the couch, though."
She laughed at him, and he must have looked a little hurt because she stopped immediately and looked sorry, pressing her fingers to her mouth.
"Chuck, we've had sex." Something deep in his chest squeezed hard and he couldn't breathe for a second. "You're not sleeping on the couch."
There was nothing he could really say to that, so he just crawled over her to the other side of the bed.
She smiled at him and slipped her legs under the messy sheets and duvet, shifting around to get comfortable. She was on her side, facing away from him. "I know I should be ashamed I didn't make my bed today, but I'm…" she yawned the last bit of her sentence, "too tired for shame."
He let out a chuckle and joined her under the sheets, deciding that he could sleep in jeans and be perfectly comfortable. At least, if he repeated it enough he could make himself believe that. Which was just as good.
Chuck was careful not to move, feeling awkward being in Sarah's bed, especially with his clothes on like this. But he was tired enough that he did eventually fall asleep, not even waking up when her gentle weight sidled up next to him, her cheek on his shoulder.
A/N: Just want to say really quick that it's incredibly encouraging reading your words of...encouragement. It means a lot. It really does. Please continue reviewing. It's honestly such a huge lift. Makes me want to write EVERYTHING for you folks. Thanks!
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