And the winner is...

Chapter 8

Breakfast was great, mostly because Leyla learned how to cook with culinary torch and went ahead roasting – and in some case straight up burning – pieces of bread and fruits and feeding them to Emre. They were fire-hot and burnt him on more than one occasion, but he didn't dare to tell her, his wife was having so much fun!

After that they'd continued with sailing lessons, Leyla getting better and better at the craft, making Emre just a little bit jealous. At some point Leyla managed to correct the sails just right, making Serena lean over water and course ahead like that for few minutes. When the boat straightened elegantly, Emre threw his hands in the air and huffed in frustration.

- You know it's not fair that you're that good just after few lessons?! I had to work my ass off for the entire summer to get my first successful heeling! You could just pretend to be bad at something!

Leyla pressed he lips really tight but laugh still escaped her and she'd doubled over. Emre looked at her offended and started crouching up to her with devilish blink in his eyes. Leyla felt the danger, stepped back and circled behind the sails, seeing glimpses of him between the sheets. Leyla tried to placate her envious husband:

- Emre, I promise I'm horrible in many things! I can't cook fancy dinners, my English is horrible, I don't know how to waltz and I'm afraid of horses!

Emre still circled, making Leyla to step away and around. She tried looking down from time to time but she'd still tumbled down over lines and knots, giving Emre split second advantage to get closer to her. He said in smooth voice, almost purring:

- What do I care about any of those things? If you ever want to learn them, you'll master them just as quick. And I'll teach you to ride horses, I think you'll like it.

Leyla though to herself three things – 'Equestrian!' and 'So, dancing or fencing? I hope he's dancing!' and 'I bet he looks amazing on a horse, I might go for a lesson just to see him do that!' – but her modest self didn't say any of those things out loud. Instead, Leyla dug around in her memory to come up with something she'd failed at that would sooth Emre's wounded ego. The thought came momentarily:

- Emre, I can't drive! We've had courses in the university, I tried, and I'd failed the exam two times! I'm hopeless!

Emre stopped his approach for a second, surprised at this admission. Leyla? Failed? These two words in one sentence? But then he'd remembered his goal and continued hunting – for his pray was a delicious one! In order to dull her attention, Emre suggested:

- You don't need to drive, you've got me, I can drive you wherever you need to go.

Leyla smiled back, not fooled by his peace offering:

- Emre, you are being unreasonable, you can't be by my side at all times...

- But maybe, - and Emre suddenly jumped and squeezed between the sails, catching Leyla by the waist and whispering to her ear, - I can try!

Emre then proceeded to tickle Leyla mercilessly, fully aware of what were her most sensitive spots. Leyla wiggled and laughed, trying to escape his masterful fingers. This time she paid no attention to her movements, focused only on her husband and – long story short – stumbled over something and flew straight off the board, splashing into the water with an angry shout. Emre jumped in immediately, catching Leyla's limp form and dragging her to the ladder. Leyla gurgled and coughed, whining a bit about her bad luck and how Emre had nothing to be envious about. Emre was just happy she didn't seem injured, his pretend grievances long forgotten.

It took some time to get out of water because wet cotton robe was heavy and uncomfortable to move around, and Leyla dismissed the option of shedding that thing in the water, but they finally got on board. Leyla ran up to the shower to rinse off salt water and Emre had found another robe and few towels for Leyla to dry her hair. Shower door opened and Leyla's hand showed up, followed by her voice 'Towel, please'. Emre briefly considered joining her in the shower but then thought better of it as she was too stressed for such explorations. 'Later', he thought to himself and gave her the towel.