Contract Marriage with My CEO Boss (Kylan and Katrina) novel Chapter 47

Chapter 47 

Katrina showered and dressed quickly, choosing to wear a long–sleeved sweater, a nice pair of jeans, and some fleece socks. She curled her hair, added a bit of makeup to her face, and sprayed some perfume across her outfit. After brushing her teeth, she was ready to go. 

on his laptop 

She grabbed her sneakers from the closet and carried them with her to the front room. She glanced at Kylan who was indeed working on She slapped on her sneakers, tied them both, and then she walked over to Kylan 

She stopped behind him and didn’t allow herself to doubt what she were doing, before she reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder. 

“Ready to go?” She asked him softly. 

kylan didn’t tense under her touch and only nodded his head, closing his laptop and then standing from the armchair. 

She both put her jackets on near the front door of the suite and then Kylan passed, looking down at her. 

“Did you sleep alright?” he asked her, watching her carefully for her response. 

She wondered if he was actually asking if he had kept her up with any nightmares. She forced the expression on her face to remain neutral. meeting has gaze with a smile now, “I did, thank you. That bed is ridiculously comfortable. I might have to buy one myself” 

With a smile still firmly in place, she took hold of his hand and opened the door 

-0-0-0- 

The drive to the harbor wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but she snuck an occasional glance at Kylan, just bit tired. 

in case. He seemed okay, if not a little 

Her mind wandered back to the night before when she witnessed him in such distress. It was a stark contrast to the normally stole man she had come to know over the last few years, and it had her on edge. She wanted to know what he had been dreaming about. She wanted to know who Yasmin was. She wanted to let him know she was there for him 

But none of the words that came to her mind sounded like the right thing to say. They all felt too big for the situation and especially too big for where she and Kylan were in her relationship. She wondered if she might ever reach the place where she felt confident asking Kylan such personal questions without this much pause, but she wasn’t certain. 

Why did she want to reach that place with him at all, though? It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t be something she even thought about, truthfully. It was inappropriate. Even still, she were having a difficult time forcing the current curiosity away. 

She was thankful for the distraction when Kylan parked the car near the harbor. It was larger than she remembered it being. Rows and rows filled with every kind of boat lined the weaving webs of the boardwalk as far as the eye could see. 

She knew what her father’s boat looked like, and so she held onto Kylan’s hand and guided him along the wooden slats, craning her neck to look a 

little bit better. 

The November sun did nothing to dispel the cold, salty breeze, blowing in from the Gulf of Maine, but she almost didn’t mind. It was nostalgic. really. Her mind recalled several different instances as a child where she would spend countless hours with her father on his boat, laughing while he Laught her how to lower the sails or take the helm. By the end of a day of sailing, her father would either tell she a bedtime story, or sing she a lullaby, just as her mother had. 

Her childhood wasn’t blissful by any y means. But her father did his best to ensure she never wanted for love after the abrupt departure of her 

mother. 

She finally spotted his boat a few rows away 

ay and she grinned when she saw him already shuffling around the small space, his white button down flowing in the wind, the curls on his head bristling slightly while he moved around. 

She guided Kylan over to her father, smiling at the blue lettering that adorned the white, chipping paint along the side of his boat. “Ma Fleur,” Kylan said from next to her, his eyes also focused on the letters. 

“Ahh yes, because that is what Katrina is. My flower. Good morning to you both, please come aboard.” Her father held a hand out for her, helping her step aboard though she was sure she still had her sex legs. 

had a few Kylan followed after her and then her father showed them to a small, makeshift, floor–level table near the stem of the boat There, he croque monsieur’s and some fruit laid out for them. She smiled and took a seat on the ground, not caring at all if her coat or pants got dirty. 

Kylan eyed the area apprehensively for a moment before he finally sat down next to her. 

Together, the three of them ate breakfast. Easy, casual conversation, flowed mostly between her and her father, with the occasional inclusion of Kylan. The boat rocked gently in the breeze while they filled their stomachs with warm food and their minds with wonderful memories. 

“And then, Katrina insisted on riding her scooter down the boardwalk, even after I warned her the wood was uneven in places, and it would surely end in disaster. But alas, my fille is more stubborn than that. She did not get far before the front wheel caught on a piece of wood, and she fell into the harbor. Thankfully, it was June, so the water was not too frigid. I fished her out and scolded her over a warm bowl of soup and my famous 

tider.” 

2:50 PM 

Chapter 47 

Her father smiled at her as he recalled yet another e 

embarrassing story from her childhood. 

Kylan looked at her with his eyebrows raised, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “How old were you at the time?” he asked her, brushing a piece of hair away from the corner of her mouth as he spoke. 

She was certain she was blushing, but she hoped it would only read as she being cold. “I was nine,” she mumbled indignantly 

“So, old enough to understand you were being reckless, but too foolish to heed the advice of her father, Kylan mused, turning and smirking at her father. She watched as they exchanged a silent look of knowing and she rolled her eyes with a huff. 

“Okay, yes. I was definitely reckless. But I had just gotten the scooter at the start of summer vacation, and I wanted to try it out” She attempted to defend the actions of her nine–year–old self. 

“Ma fleur. I am only giving you a hard time. You were always an adventurous child, and I loved your spirit. It’s one of the many reasons I think you make an incredible artist.” Her father shifted the conversation suddenly and she felt her blush deepen. 

“Alright, that’s enough about my childhood. Thank you for breakfast, father,” she told him as she brought another blackberry to her mouth. 

“Thank you. Alois, Kylan agreed politely. 

Of co 

course, it was my pleasure, her father said with a kind smile. “Now, what are your plans for the remainder of the day?”