" I was trying to apologize,” she said, relief and humor easing into her eyes and curving her lips.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He thought he might snap off the end of the pier, he was gripping it so hard.
In response, she ducked her hand into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a folded and now somewhat crumpled piece of paper. “Here. Read for yourself.”
He took the paper, realizing he was acting like a complete yobbo, and knew then that perhaps he wasn’t nearly so cool and levelheaded about this whole endeavor as he’d led her to believe. The truth of it being, he only really wanted her to figure out what would make her happy if what made her happy was him.
Under her amused stare, he unfolded the paper and read:

Dear Hook,
I’m trying to be a good and supportive sister and help get Fiona and her ridiculously long veil down the aisle before I strangle her into submission with every hand-beaded, pearl-seeded foot of it. At the moment, sitting here knee-deep in crinolines and enough netting to outfit every member of Downton Abbey, I can’t safely predict a win in that ongoing effort.
That said, I’d much rather be spending the time with you, sailing the high seas on our pirate ship. Especially that part where we stayed anchored in one spot for an afternoon and all the plundering was going on aboard our own boat. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything everyone has said and have come to the conclusion that the only thing I’m sure of is that I’m thinking too much.
I’ve decided it was better when I was just feeling things and not thinking endlessly about them. I especially liked the things I was feeling on our picnic for two. So this is all to say I’d like to go, um, sailing again. Even if there’s no boat involved this time. I hope you won’t think less of me for the request, but please take seeing a whole lot more of me as a consolation prize if you do. Also? Save me. Or send bail money. Sincerely, Starfish, Queen of the High Seas, Plunderer of Pirates, especially those with a really clever right Hook.

He was smiling and shaking his head as he folded the note closed and tucked it in his shirt pocket.
“Well?” she said at length.
“Apology accepted” was all he said.
“And?”
He slid a look her way. “And…what?” She’d made him wait three days, and punitive or not, he wasn’t in any hurry to put her out of her misery. Plus, when he did, it was likely to be that much more fun.
“You’re going to make me spell it out, aren’t you? Don’t you realize it was hard enough just putting it in writing?”
“I accept your lovely invitation,” he said, then added, “I only have one caveat.”
Her relief turned to wary suspicion as she eyed him. “Oh? And that would be?”
“Will you wear the crinolines? "

― Donna Kauffman , Starfish Moon (Brides of Blueberry Cove, #3)