A NICE SURPRISE
1505 Words
Chapter – Adriana
She wasn’t nervous. Definitely not.
Just… curious. Maybe a little skeptical.
Beckett Ashborne had said, “Let me surprise you,” with that same infuriating calm confidence that made people trust him — and made her want to prove him wrong.
So here she was, standing in front of a private jet, her hair whipping in the soft wind, trying not to look impressed.
“This is your idea of a surprise?” she asked, crossing her arms. “A plane? How very… subtle.”
He smirked, lowering his sunglasses. “You told me to surprise you. You didn’t specify how much.”
“I was thinking dinner reservations. Not federal aviation.”
“Too late.” He gestured toward the stairs. “Ladies first.”
She gave him a pointed look. “You’re impossible.”
“Accurate,” he said, that lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Now get in before I change my mind.”
---
Two hours later, she realized he hadn’t just planned a flight.
Charleston. Warm air, soft orange skies. The kind of sunset that made the water look gilded.
When she saw the boat waiting at the dock — sleek, silver, with a long table set for two and lanterns flickering — her breath caught for half a second before she hid it behind a scoff.
“You’ve really committed to this whole impress me thing,” she said as they stepped aboard.
He glanced at her, brow raised. “Is it working?”
“Barely.”
He laughed — a low, genuine sound that surprised her.
The boat glided away from the shore, cutting through the gold-streaked water. The skyline softened in the distance, replaced by soft music and the smell of the sea. She sat across from him at the table — white linen, candles, plates that looked too expensive to touch — and tried not to stare when the fading sunlight hit his face.
She hated that he looked so at ease, even here, like he owned the horizon too.
“So,” she said, reaching for her glass, “do you always fly your colleagues out of state to distract them?”
“Only the ones who annoy me,” he said smoothly. “Which is, apparently, you.”
“I annoy you, yet you plan all this?”
He leaned back, eyes glinting. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
Her pulse stuttered before she masked it with a sip of wine. “You’re insufferable.”
“I’m honest.”
“You’re arrogant.”
“Confident.”
“Conceited.”
He smiled faintly. “You’re still here.”
She set her glass down, gaze steady. “For the view.”
“Of course,” he murmured, though his eyes didn’t leave hers.
---
Dinner arrived in courses — wine, seafood, quiet laughter that surprised them both. The conversation drifted from business to childhoods, favorite places, little things neither had ever shared aloud.
She found herself watching the way his expression changed when he wasn’t being observed — softer, thoughtful, almost vulnerable.
At one point, she said, “You don’t talk about yourself much.”
“Neither do you.”
“I asked first.”
He smiled faintly. “I don’t like talking about myself.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes people think they know you. And people ruin what they know.”
She blinked, quiet for a moment. “That’s… bleak.”
“Realistic.”
“You sound like someone who’s been burned.”
He looked away toward the horizon, the last edge of sunlight glimmering off the water. “Maybe.”
Her chest tightened before she could stop it. He wasn’t supposed to get to her. But there it was — that flicker of something raw, unguarded.
So she changed the subject, smiling lightly. “You know, I should warn you — I don’t fall for grand gestures.”
“I know.” His voice was low, even. “You fall for truth.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
The boat drifted under a wash of stars now, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. Just the soft rhythm of the water and the pulse of something that felt dangerously close to peace.
She turned to him, the flicker of a smile tugging at her mouth. “You really do plan an excellent distraction, Ashborne.”
“Good,” he said, eyes glinting in the dim light. “I’d hate for your bad mood to ruin my night.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Still accurate.”
And when she looked back at him, she wasn’t just impressed — she was undone.
Charleston – Later That Night
The night had settled warm and quiet around them. The boat rocked gently beneath a sky full of stars, the air soft with salt and candlelight.
Adriana sat beside Beckett at the edge of the deck, their shoes off, feet barely brushing the cool surface of the water. A thick blanket was wrapped around them both — his arm resting along the back of the seat, close enough that she could feel his warmth, his pulse steady beneath the quiet.
It was the kind of silence she didn’t usually trust. But with him, it didn’t feel empty. It felt… suspended.
After a while, Beckett spoke. His voice was low, roughened by the breeze.
“My parents aren’t the worst,” he said, staring out at the water, “but they didn’t exactly think telling their children they love them was necessary.”
She turned slightly, watching him.
“You’re lucky,” he went on. “I can tell you’re close with your sisters — and that you love them. You might be guarded in other ways, but you’re not afraid to show that.”
Something inside her softened. She wanted to reach for his hand, to offer something gentle — but she knew he’d pull away if she did. So instead, she said quietly, “I think that says a lot about you too.”
He glanced at her, brow raised. “How so?”
“Because you noticed.”
For a moment, neither spoke. The water glimmered faintly beneath them, the city lights far in the distance. Adriana felt a strange heaviness settle in her chest — sympathy, maybe. Or the realization that his distance wasn’t coldness; it was defense.
And she wondered, not for the first time, if he’d ever be able to tell someone he loved them — and if that someone could ever be her.
---
She broke the silence first. “Can I ask you something?”
“Depends.”
“Do you date much?”
His mouth curved slightly. “That’s a vague question.”
“You know what I mean.”
He shrugged. “I’ve had relationships. Mostly convenient. None that lasted.”
“Because you’re emotionally unavailable?”
He huffed a laugh. “Because people like to fix things. And I don’t break easily.”
She smiled faintly. “That’s debatable.”
He tilted his head toward her. “Your turn.”
“My turn?”
“To answer your own question.”
She smirked, looking away. “I’ve dated… a little.”
His voice shifted, curious. “Landon?”
Her head snapped toward him. “What about him?”
“You mentioned him once. Who exactly is he?”
She blinked, surprised he remembered. “Just a friend. We barely dated. I think he liked me at one point.”
“One point?” he repeated, eyes narrowing slightly.
She ignored the edge in his tone. “I’ve had a few guys interested in me, but it didn’t exactly go anywhere.”
He studied her. “Why not?”
Adriana hesitated, then looked straight at him. “Because I didn’t sleep with them.”
The words weren’t hesitant, or shy — just matter-of-fact. A test, maybe.
Beckett’s expression didn’t change immediately, but something flickered behind his eyes. Interest. Respect. Maybe even something softer.
She lifted a brow, deliberately unreadable. “Does that surprise you?”
He shook his head. “Not really. You don’t do things because people expect you to. You do them when you want to.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “And if I never did?”
His gaze held hers, unwavering. “Then the others were idiots. You don’t pressure someone you care about. You wait — if they’re worth it.”
Her breath hitched before she could hide it.
For a man so composed, Beckett Ashborne had an uncanny way of cutting straight to the heart of things — not cruelly, just… clearly.
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was full — of tension, unspoken admiration, something fragile neither dared name.
Finally, she said softly, “You surprise me sometimes.”
He glanced over, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips. “Good. I’d hate to be predictable.”
- Writer
