“What time is it?” I ask groggily, rubbing my face, still trying to wake up. “And how’d you get in here?”
“You neglected to lock your door last night, and it’s a quarter past ten. Luckily, your morning session is with yours truly, and since I know most everything about you already, we can use the hour to sober you up. I covered for you with Isaac too.”
“Shit, I feel like ass,” I fall back into the pillows with a half-laugh, half-moan, “and thank you.” I hadn’t even thought to look at my schedule for today. At least it wasn’t Alex the Engineer beating on my door as I was passed out nearly nude. “What happened? I felt fine one minute, and the next thing I knew, I was praying to the porcelain gods. Then, I was just so damn tired.”
She laughs heartily, patting my arm. “You were tossing back the wine last night at a pretty steady rate, dear girl. When it’s good, it goes down easy, and then it sneaks up on you all of a sudden. I had a feeling you were pretty knackered when you headed out.”
“Did I make a complete ass of myself?”
“Not unless you did something after you left?” Her words are more of a dangling question than a statement of fact, which unfortunately brings back the memory of Davis being with someone in his room last night.
“No,” I close my eyes with a heavy sigh, “I came straight back here.”
“Mhmm,” is all she says as she hops off the bed and brings me the food and juice.
“What? You don’t believe me?” I scoff.
“Listen to this old lady; eat up, take some ibuprofen, and take a shower,” she ignores my question. “Then we can move out onto the patio. It’s too beautiful here to spend time inside. I’ll be waiting out there for you.”
I want to argue with her, demand she tell me what she thinks she knows, but I do as I’m told, gobbling up the eggs and bacon before scrubbing the previous day off of me in the shower. Less than twenty minutes later, dressed in my bathing suit and a cover-up, I join her outside on the wooden deck.
She’s swinging in the hammock, staring out over the cliff at the amazing view. “Have I ever told you about William?” she asks when she hears the door close, not turning to look at me.
“Not much, except he was your husband,” I sit down next to the plunge pool, allowing my legs to dip into the chilly water, “and that you lost him in the train accident.” I hate bringing up the tragedies we each went through, but I guess getting over that is part of the reason we’re all here.
“I met William when I was sixteen, working as a counselor at summer youth camp. He was one of the other counselors there, had recently moved to the UK from the US, and I immediately fell in love with his American accent and muscular arms,” she says fondly. “He apparently fancied me as well, and we quickly began a week long flirtation, sharing knowing looks and innocent brushes of the hand whenever we could. He even gave me my first kiss on a canoe—it was the most romantic thing ever. However, as we both knew it would from the first day we met, the seven days passed in a blink of an eye, and we parted ways, leaving me a sobbing, emotional, teenage mess for nearly a month straight.”
“Oh, that’s so sad,” I remark, hearing the sorrow in her voice, “but at least y’all reconnected and ended up getting married.”
Charlotte sits up and looks over at me, her expression thoughtful. “William and I didn’t see each other again for nearly twenty years, didn’t get married until we were in our late thirties—a second marriage for both of us.”
“Wow,” I murmur. This news surprises me. I’m not sure why I’d always assumed they’d been married a long time, by the way she’s always spoken of him, I got that impression.
“Do you know why I’m telling you this now?”
I peer up at her, shaking my head. “Not really,” I admit.
“If you find something or someone you want, go after it.” Instantly, I know she’s talking about Davis and the exchange she witnessed between us last night. “The thing I regret most about William’s death is all of those years we spent apart. I knew after one week he was the one for me, but allowed my mum and my friends to convince me it was a stupid, summer, juvenile crush. The two-and-a-half years we spent together should’ve been twenty-two-and-a-half, and now I have to live with knowing I didn’t try to make that happen.”
Touched by her story, but frustrated because she doesn’t understand my situation with Davis, I pull my legs out of the water, stand up, and walk to the ledge of the porch, gazing out at the shore down below. “It’s not that easy, Charlotte. Sometimes you want things that are bad for you,” my shoulders slump slightly as the reality of my words sinks in, “and sometimes the ones you want don’t want you back.”
“You’re a blind fool,” she scolds in a motherly tone. “One hour. That’s how long it took for me to know everything I need to know, Bristol. I don’t know what happened before dinner last night between you and that boy, but the minute his eyes found you, he lit up like the sky on New Year’s Eve, and he made a beeline to sit next to you.”
She pads across the deck to join me, softening her voice. “I’m not sure why he sat there quiet all night, but I know just like the rest of us here the boy’s got demons inside his head that torment him. However, when you jumped up to hug Kayden, the miserable, discouraged expression on his face was louder than a thousand screaming words. He stood up and slinked out of the room before you could see how much it affected him. Someone who doesn’t want you doesn’t act like that.”
“He was with someone else last night,” I blurt out, suddenly pissed and hurt at the same time, even though I have no reason to be either. “I heard them in his cottage when I walked back to my room.”
“You don’t know who it was or why they were there,” she interjects.
“It was him and a woman obviously having a good time. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t there playing Scrabble.”
Charlotte loops her arm around my waist, pulling me closer to her. “Don’t jump to conclusions, and don’t overreact. I’ve got a feeling that’s what he did last night when he saw you with Kayden.”
“You mentioned that earlier. Why with Kayden? I don’t understand. He’s like my big brother; that’s gross . . . and he’s old.” I scrunch my nose up with disgust.
“Hey now,” she lightly slaps my hip, “watch who you’re calling old, youngin’.”
“You know what I mean.” I rest my head on her shoulder, chuckling lightly. We both stand there quietly for a few minutes before I speak again.
“I came here to have fun and explore on my own, to finally meet old friends and make some new ones, and most importantly, to help myself heal from the losses I’ve suffered, not cause more heartache, which will be inevitable if I get involved with Davis McKay.”
She releases me from the embrace and smiles a sad smile. “Great love is worth great risk.” Turning to walk away, she calls out over her shoulder, “I’ll see you around later, Bristol.”
Love?! Who the hell said anything about the L-word?
The bomb Charlotte dropped before leaving my cottage ticks away in my head as I throw everything I need for the beach into my bag. I’ve known this guy one day, half of which we hardly spoke to one another, and she wants to talk about love? I’m not even sure I like him. Maybe she had too many mimosas or Bloody Mary’s at breakfast . . .
It’s a little past noon as I dawdle down the dirt road from my cottage to the main house, taking my sweet time looking at the different flowers and butterflies fluttering about. Lena greets me by name when I enter, her smile bright and merry, and I return the gleeful gesture.
My first stop is the small business center. I owe both Granny and Alyvia an email, which I should’ve done last night. The first, I type out quickly, assuring my grandma I’m alive and well and letting her know which unit I’m in. I struggle a little with the second, going back and forth whether to tell Lyv about the excitement of the trip thus far or not. I hate to make it seem like a big deal when, I’m not even sure if it is a deal.
&n
bsp; For all I know, Davis found some island girl to hook up with while he’s here, or maybe he really is a cougar hunter and charmed the pants off of one of the older women. Maybe he regrets the whole ‘take this pretty little mouth’ spiel, a result of his adrenaline overload and alcohol intake from getting on a plane again. Maybe I need to stop worrying about ‘maybes’ and just let whatever happens, happen.
I choose not to mention him, keeping the wording optimistically vague, and instead, tell her about the picture-perfect place, delicious food, and the pimp-ass outdoor shower. Promising to check in again soon, I hit send, log out of my email, and bring it back to the home screen.
The beach is my next destination; after all, it is the main attraction of this place. Recalling Lena saying there is a restaurant and bar down there by the scuba shop, I sling my bag over my shoulder and follow the signs, ready to soak up some rays and enjoy a frozen fruity drink.
One hundred and sixty-six spiraling stairs later, I take my first ever step into the warm, soft, powdery sand. Immediately, I slip my feet out of my flip-flops, allowing my toes to sink into the golden sugar. My heart does a little dance of exhilaration, surprised at how fluid the fine granules feel as they slide across my skin, and I begin to skip over to one of the open beach chairs close to the water’s edge.
Surprised there aren’t many people down here, I wave a hello to Lynnette and another woman I recognize from last night—Julia, I believe—who are eating over at the small restaurant. There are a few people out in the water, but none of them look like anyone I’ve met yet, so I spread my towel out on the chair, shed my cover-up, and make myself comfortable with some relaxing Jack Johnson in my earbuds and a steamy romance novel on my e-reader.
Soon after I’m settled, a guy dressed in a Ti Kaye t-shirt and board shorts approaches with a warm, welcoming smile and an outstretched hand. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Jerry, the person in charge of making sure everything you need down here at the beach is taken care of. How are you today?”
I turn down the music and shake his hand, impressed at the exceptional politeness of the staff. “Nice to meet you, Jerry. I’m Bristol, and I’m doing great, thank you.”
“Is there anything I can get for you to drink or eat? Might you be interested in exploring the reef with some snorkeling equipment?”
“I would love one of those rum-runners and a bottle of water for now. I think I’ll wait a little while before I grab a bite to eat, and I’m not so sure about snorkeling,” I laugh. “I probably need to brush up on my swimming a bit before I dive to the ocean floor.”
He chuckles and nods. “Well, that would be scuba diving not snorkeling, but I understand. I would definitely not recommend going alone, but I’m sure once you get out there, you’ll get the hang of it pretty quickly. I’ll grab those drinks for you, as well as a menu for when you’re ready to order, and be right back.”
Jerry disappears to the bar as I crank the tunes back up and dig into my book, basking in the bright rays of sunshine. Minutes later, my drinks are delivered and I immediately begin sipping from both, as the sizzling heat is already forming beads of sweat that trickle from my chest, between my breasts, and down my stomach, only to be stopped by my red bikini bottoms.
I attempt to read, but the glare makes it nearly impossible, even with my sunglasses on; plus, I keep getting distracted by people walking by and the jubilant sounds coming from the water. Wishing my friends were down here with me, I set the reading device down and lean my head back with closed eyes.
“So, I guess you made your decision,” Davis’ voice rumbles as a shadow looms in front of me, blocking the sun, “especially now that you know the kind of fucked-upness I really am?”
Slowly, I open my eyes and push the sunglasses up onto my head, staring straight into his unsettling eyes. “I think you made my decision for me last night,” I bite out, surprising even myself at the irritation in my voice.
“What are you talking about?” He crosses his arms, growing defensive. “After I told you my name and you figured out who I was, you haven’t even attempted to talk to me, and you sure as hell didn’t give me the kind of welcome you gave that other guy last night.”
“That other guy is like a big brother to me, someone I’ve talked to for over three years online, a friend I was excited about finally meeting!” My annoyance rapidly shifts into exasperated anger. I jump up out of the chair, yank my headphones out, toss them down, and get right up in his face . . . well, his chest rather, since I’m nearly a foot shorter than him. “Not that I owe you an explanation anyways, just like you don’t owe me one for whoever you had in your room last night! You,” I poke my finger into his sternum, emphasizing the word, “truly,” another poke, “are,” poke, “a,” poke, “dick!” The final poke is more like a jab to the gut, but I’m admittedly a little out of control right now.
Davis stands like a statue throughout my entire rant, his stoic face giving away nothing as far as emotions. “Are you finished?” he asks after my final stab.
I nod impassively, refusing to pull my eyes from his or back away, and wait for him to speak. Then, catching me completely off-guard, he swiftly grabs my face and crashes his lips onto mine.
IT TAKES EVERYTHING I have not to smile as I watch Bristol throw her little fit. Knowing that she came by my place last night, and she’s jealous because she thinks I was there with another chick, makes my ego swell and my cock hard.
Once she’s finished digging her finger into my stomach and calling me a dick—which I usually am, but surprisingly don’t want to be one around her; I refuse to ask myself why this is—I do exactly what I’ve yearned to do since the moment I laid eyes on her. I claim her perfectly pouty lips with mine in demanding, caveman-esque fashion, hoping every person on this beach understands the statement I’m making.
I’m not sure if her ‘friend’ from last night is even out here, but I hope to God he is, because as a guy, I know with certainty the way he looked at her wasn’t how a big brother should look at his little sister. Ever. The way his eyes roamed up and down her body, how his hand splayed out on her bare back, holding her close to him, and the way he called her ‘baby girl’, all said plenty about his true intentions. I’m not usually one to cock-block, especially knowing the reason he’s even here is because something really fucked up has happened in his life, but I’ll be damned if he’s getting anywhere near Bristol while we’re here. She’s mine.
Her lips part with no resistance as the tip of my tongue requests entrance, finally allowing me to savor the taste of her sugary sweetness. My hands glide around her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers threading through her silky hair as I continue to explore her mouth, our tongues curling around one another’s in an effortless, synchronized movement.
She moans into my mouth, a direct command for my cock to stand at full-attention, and suddenly, I no longer want these other people around us. They’re the only reason I’m not laying her flat on her back in the sand right now and devouring every inch of her body, like I’d promised her I’d do. And based on the way she’s digging her nails into my shoulders and not-so-subtly pressing her body into mine, I’m pretty sure it’s what she wants too.
Without breaking the kiss, I pull my fingers from her hair and lift her under the arms, up to my chest. Instinctively, she locks her ankles around my hips, the scorching heat from between her legs, which is covered only by the thin material of her bikini bottoms, burns through my board shorts, engulfing my now throbbing dick. Fuck.
I spin around and make a beeline for the ocean in desperate need to cool off, feeling like the king of the world with this smart, gorgeous girl clinging to me. Including today, I’ve got twelve days and twelve nights before I have to return to my tormented reality, and I intend to spend every moment I possibly can reveling in all that is Bristol Criswell, pretending for at least a little while that my soul didn’t die in that plane crash.
“Eeeek!” she shrieks into my ear as we barrel into the cool, refreshing water
, our bodies still snugly pressed together. “It’s so cold!”
I laugh, releasing my grasp on her waist only long enough to splash water on her face. “You’re crazy; this feels amazing.”
“I’ve never been in the ocean, so I wasn’t sure what to expect,” she admits bashfully as I continue walking us out away from the shore and any other people, stopping once I’m about chest-deep. “Before yesterday, I’d never left the state of Oklahoma.”
“Wow, you are crazy,” I joke. “What have you been doing for the last nineteen years? Didn’t you go on family vacations when you were a kid?”
The moment the words come out of my mouth, her face falls, and I know I’ve fucked up. She’d mentioned yesterday her mom is dead, and obviously she’s here because something crazy happened to her, but even though I’m curious, I haven’t asked her about her story, mainly because I don’t want to talk about mine.
“I’m sorry, Bristol,” I apologize, feeling like an ass. “I didn’t me—”
She cuts me off, forcing a smile on her face. “It’s okay. I don’t want to talk about it now; I’m having too much fun, but before we leave, I’ll tell you about it. Okay?”
I kiss her forehead, thankful she’s not upset with me.
She pulls slightly away from me, glancing down at her wet, glistening breasts and then back up at me. “And I’m sorry, Mr. McKay, but my built-in weather gauges say this water is cold,” she jests, a wicked grin lifting the corners of her mouth, promptly shifting the mood back to playful and mischievous.
“I can help fix that for you,” I reply slyly, my fingers walking up her body from her hip, up out of the water to her chest, teasingly sliding just under the hem of her triangle top.