"What time do you call this?" Rory laughed as Tori jumped down onto the boat.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"When you said you had a boat, I wasnt expecting some posh yacht. This is incredible" she gasped and let go of his hand.
"Aye, well come on, it's about to piss it down and I've got something inside for you".
Tori eyed him suspiciously, but followed him across the deck and down the entrance to the living quarters underneath.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I'm in love" she whispered as they walked inside and saw the wood clad area.
Below the deck, there was a small seating area, with a long sofa on one side and then a U shaped sofa on the other with a table in the middle. Shelves filled with books covered the walls and an old record player sat at the side. At the end there was another door, which she guessed lead to the bedroom. Just before all of that though there was a small kitchen, oak wood surfaces surrounded a small cooker and gas hob.
"I didn't know I'd you'd fancy it, or what you even need, but here" Rory shrugged and passed her a shopping bag.
Smiling, she placed the bag on the side in the kitchen and peered inside. "If I'm baking you're on washing up duty after".
"Depends how good the cake is" he chuckled.
It turned out the weather was too bad for them to actually sail out, but Rory lit a fire in his small log burner and brewed a teapot as she started preparing to bake.
"Come help me whisk" she groaned after a while, her arm growing numb from having to whisk by hand.
"I thought you were a Baker, surely you should be able to whisk without help" he laughed just as he had put a Bob Dylam record on.
"I was a pâtissière actually. I am a master in my skill and, therefore, the owner of an electric whisk. Now come on, you're some big strong Scot, surely you can whisk a little".
"I am the master of the whisk. Strong wrists you see".
Rory's arms, wrists, and hands had definitely not gone amiss by her over the weeks they had known each other. His as were the same width as her legs almost, covered in a thick dark hair down to his wrists. His hands were just as huge with perfectly long fingers and well-kept nails. She couldn't stop staring at them for a moment and felt her growing warmer as she looked at his fingers.