VAUGHN’S POV
I had dragged Wade out of bed on Sunday morning to go sailing. I smiled cheekily knowing well that I had made the right decision to get Wade out of Valletta. I wanted us to make up and talk, before getting back to the chaos we left behind.
I had rented out a yacht and now we were deep in the Mediterranean enjoying the breeze and the view. Wade was sulking because I had dragged him out of bed while he wanted to rest. We only had today to keep each other company since tomorrow we have to return to Valletta.
“You do know that I am the president of the holdings. I can always delegate,” Wade complained.
“I planned this for us. Why do you always have to be difficult?” I scolded him.
“We have a lifetime, Vaughn,” he stated.
“You better keep your word,” I laughed.