From Sneers to Cheers: Anthea’s Ascent ( Anthea )
Chapter 441

"Wash up, will ya?"

Sherman turned to tackle the dishes.

Anthea spun around, heading for the living room.

No sooner had she reached it than she burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Sherman looked back, "What's so funny?"

Anthea, pointing at the TV, managed to say, "I can't...this guy on TV...such a goof!"

Her laughter grew even louder, unrestrained.

Sherman, puzzled, wondered if Anthea was poking fun at him, but he had no proof.

After the dishes, Sherman brought out a platter of snacks.

Peeled lychees and mangosteen.

Sliced pineapple.

And sweet, juicy watermelon.

Before they knew it, five days had flown by.

In these five days, Anthea and Sherman's interactions became more relaxed, less formal, just like Karen had said - Anthea now treated Sherman as if he were a close buddy. The island wasn't big.

Over the past five days, Anthea and Sherman had explored every nook and cranny.

Of course, they also encountered a fair share of the island's wildlife.

The first day, they chased after coconut crabs.

The second day, Sherman was coaxed into raiding bird nests.

By the third day, they were hunting for wild honey...

Now, even the ants took a detour when they saw her coming.

"Sherman, I just got off the phone with Mrs. Christensen. She said she and Adah can't make it for now. Should we head back?" Anthea suggested, feeling a bit bored now that they'd seen and done everything the island had to offer, including getting their fill of seafood. "Sure," Sherman put down his newspaper. "Let's pack up and head out soon. You start packing; I'll handle the rest."

"But isn't the yacht captain not here yet?" Anthea inquired.

"I can pilot the yacht."

"You can?" Anthea raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Sherman nodded.

"Then I'll go pack."

Anthea's belongings were few, and she packed swiftly.

Making their way to the yacht, Sherman headed to the cockpit, with an intrigued Anthea following.

In her world, the ocean was polluted, making yachts obsolete. Hence, she had no experience piloting them, though she had a small plane pilot's license.

Sherman, comfortably seated at the helm, turned the key with practiced ease, starting the yacht.

The simple action somehow looked cool, especially his grip on the wheel.

Anthea watched intently.

Sherman glanced back, "Wanna learn?"

"Can I try?"

Sherman stood, offering her the seat. "Here, sit. I'll teach you."

Anthea took the seat.

Sherman leaned over her from behind, his arms reaching around her sides to guide her hands on the wheel.

They were close, close enough for Anthea to feel his breath on her ear, their breaths mingling.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Focus," Sherman instructed, one hand on the wheel, the other on the throttle, "This is the throttle. Push it down." Anthea did as told.

"This is the speedometer. When it hits 5000 RPM, you're good to go."

Learning to pilot the yacht was surprisingly easy with Sherman's guidance, and Anthea caught on within ten minutes.

Piloting on the sea felt more thrilling than driving a car. To ensure her safety, Sherman stayed by her side.

The cockpit was spacious enough for both, but Sherman stood close, until Anthea suggested, "Aren't you tired? Sit down with me." Sherman took a seat beside her, maintaining a gentle distance.

However, as he leaned back, a mere

glance at Anthea - from her

graceful neck to her delicate

collarbone - stirred an

Swn vel.ne

unaccustomed warmth within him.

He stood abruptly, "I'll step out for some air. Keep steady."

"Okay," Anthea nodded, focused on piloting.

On deck, Sherman gazed at the vast ocean, fiddling with a cross

necklace, reciting prayers in

l.ne

mindto calm the turmoil in his

What a lapse! In thirty years, he'd never been so off kilter.

QUMS

Fortunately, Anthea was too absorbed in piloting to notice anything amiss.