“That too,” I say, feeling shitty for having upset her. “It was a total arsehole thing to say. I'm just in a really bad mood, but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on Dick.”
She levels me with a steely glare.
“Richard, sorry.” I give her a little grin that seems to soften her up some.
We pull up to her building long before I'm ready, and I stop by the front door.
“Well, thanks for the ride,” Libby says as she gets out of the cart.
“Are you going back to the office today?” I ask, trying to draw out the conversation just a little longer.
“I don't think so. I have enough numbers to crunch at this point, so I can probably stay in my room for the next day or so and finish up most of my work.”
She turns and starts toward the door while I sit, thinking about the fact that things ‘aren’t looking great.’ Then her words pop into my head about how maybe there’s still something she hasn’t seen that would make a difference.
Before I can second guess it, I get out of the cart and follow her. When I catch up, I say, “Hey Libby, there might be something that will change your mind after all.”
“No, it’s fine, Harrison. Really. I don’t think you’re an arse, even if you did make unwanted comments on my love life.”
“Not that. I mean about the resort,” I say, barely able to contain my nervous excitement. “I’ve had a crazy idea for a long time. Well, I’m actually not sure if it’s crazy or a stroke of genius, so I’ve never told anyone about it before. But you’re the perfect person to ask. You’ll know right away if I should do it.”
Her eyes light up. “What is it?”
“Are you game for another boat ride?”
***
Thirty minutes later, we’re taking off in our fastest speedboat, normally used for water-skiing. Since I dropped her off at her room and told her to get changed into hiking clothes, I've managed to shower, shave, and pack a picnic dinner for us to share once we reach our destination. It's a long trek, and it's getting late in the afternoon, so I hit the throttle.
Libby sits in the seat to my left, holding on to her ball cap as the wind whips her ponytail around. “Just how far is this place?”
“About another twenty minutes,” I shout over the loud engine.
“This place better be magical!”
“That's the perfect word to describe it.”
By the time we arrive, Libby looks like she’s so rattled, her teeth might've come loose. She’s also adorably sexy in that girl-next-door way in her hiking outfit — skinny cropped yoga pants, a tank top and running shoes. I anchor the boat as close to shore as I can get without hitting the rocks, but it still means wading through the water to get to the beach.
“What’s this place called?” Libby asks, her eyes scanning the beach that rises up into a dense, tropical rainforest.
“It doesn't have a name yet. I thought maybe you could help me come up with one.”
“How about ‘terrifying jungle that's probably full of deadly bugs’ island?” she asks, looking very tense.
Tapping one finger against my lips, I say, “We may have to finesse that a little. I'm not sure it sounds enticing enough.”
I toe off my runners and peel off my socks, then stuff them inside my shoes and toss them onto the shore. Picking up my backpack, I hop out of the boat and into the knee-deep, clear blue water.
“Oh, are we wading in?” she asks.
“I am,” I call back to her. “Wait there a second. I'll come get you.”
“Sure. Okay. I'll just be right here…waiting to go on to the scary deserted island. Can’t wait.”
I toss the pack onto the sand and turn back, fully enjoying the sight of her in the soft early evening sun. Somehow, inexplicably, I've almost forgotten everything that's been bothering me lately, and when it does pop into to my mind, none of it seems so bad.
She climbs up onto the side of the boat and balances there in a crouched position. I hold my hand out to her, and she takes it, the warmth spreading through me. Huh. Every damn time. Crazy.
“Okay, you have to choose between being professional and being dry,” I say.
“How so?” she asks with an adorably confused look on her face.
“I could carry you, in which case you'll be dry, but it's not all that professional. Or you could make your way on your own, in which case your pants are going to be pretty much soaked, but you may feel a little more professional.”
“Having soaked pants is hardly professional,” she says, letting a small smile escape her lips. “Plus, you’ve already carried me across the resort in my undies, so I choose dry.”
“Okay, then,” I say, tugging on her hand. She falls sideways with a squeal and I catch her in my arms. I'm not even going to try to pretend I'm not enjoying this, because I damn well am.
“Oh, I didn't think you meant like this. I thought maybe you'd piggyback me,” she says, her voice taking on a breathy quality.
“Is piggybacking considered more professional?”
“Obviously. Everyone knows piggyback rides are considered the height of sophistication.”
I laugh as I start toward the shore, but after a few steps I’m all too aware of the heat running through me at holding her like this. The way she’s blushing and looking everywhere but at me tells me she’s feeling it too. I set her down sooner than I'd like.
Once her feet touch the white sand, she clears her throat and straightens her T-shirt. “Thanks for the lift.”
I keep my reply casual. “Any time.” And I mean any time.
We walk side-by-side down the length of the beach, then turn onto a sandy trail that's been cut through the jungle. An iguana steps out of the brush, and Libby steps in front of me and holds out her arm in front of my stomach.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Protecting you,” she whispers. “Stay back. The brightly-coloured ones are poisonous.”
“No, they’re not,” I whisper back.
The iguana gives us a long stare before disappearing back into the brush again, and Libby pats my stomach before putting her arm back down. “It’s safe now.”
“Uh-huh. You sure you didn’t just use that as an excuse to touch my abs?”
Shaking her head vigorously, she turns a little red. “I certainly did not. That was a…maternal instinct thing.”
“Say what you want, but I know the truth. It’s okay, really. I totally understand and don’t mind, even if it was a bit pervy of you.”
She grunts a little, then says, “Agree to disagree on the topic of me wanting to touch your rock-hard abs. On to more important topics. Now that I see iguanas live here, I’m more than a little curious about what other deadly animals are lurking in the bush that I’ll need to save you from. Poisonous spiders, maybe? Giant snakes?”
“Seriously, you can just go ahead and grope me all you like. I already told you I don’t mind.”
She gives me an exasperated look. “So, is that a yes to the deadly fauna?”
“It’s a no. None that I've ever seen, and I've been coming here since I was a kid,” I answer.
She nods, seeming to relax a little as we walk on.
“Do you want me to take a picture of you hiking to send home?” I ask.
Libby blushes a little and shakes her head. “I’ve given up on that. I posted at least a dozen shots, and none of them seems to be attracting the attention I was hoping for.”
I do my best not to smile as a wave of hope hits me. “I'm sorry to hear that.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” she says with a wry grin. After a moment, she says, “I was so sure we were going to have the perfect life together…” Her words are slightly laboured as we go up the steep part of the climb to the top of the mountain.
“And now?”
“Full disclosure? For the first time in my life, I don't have the first freaking clue where I'm heading, and it's completel
y terrifying.”
“Well, you know what they say: when one door closes, a window opens.”
“Except this particular window seems to be on the tenth floor and there aren't any firefighters holding one of those big trampoline things for me.”
“I know this’ll sound strange, but I can relate. I mean, it’s not as bad because I haven’t just had my heart broken. But I can relate to the whole uncertainty thing.”
“I actually think your situation is worse — no offense. With me, I just have to figure out what I’m going to do for myself. In your case, you have the lives of over a hundred people riding on your shoulders.”
“That’s why I’m hoping to sweet talk you into helping me,” I say with a little smile.
She looks up at me but doesn’t smile back. “Is it hard? Having all that responsibility all the time?”
“You know, it’s funny, people have been asking me that my entire life. When we lost our parents, I took over as sort of a parent for Will and Emma. Grownups were always asking me if I minded having so much responsibility, and I never understood why. The truth is, there's really nothing I'd rather do than look after the people I care about. I suppose that's a weird goal in life,” I say, feeling strange about admitting this to her. “Maybe it makes me unambitious.”
“I think it's beautiful.” Her voice cracks a little, and I stop walking and turn to her, only to see she has tears in her eyes.
Unable to help myself, I put my hands on her upper arms and rub them up and down a little bit. “Hey, what's wrong?”
“Nothing,” she says, her face screwing up with emotion.
Pulling her in for a hug, I feel her sob against my chest, and it nearly breaks my heart. I hold her close, running one hand over the back of her head, trying to soothe her.
“Shh, it's okay. It'll be okay.”
After a minute, she pulls away, wiping her eyes and looking embarrassed. “I'm sorry, that just got to me for some reason. I don’t think I've ever had anyone who thought taking care of me was anything more than a burden.”
“Then you've been hanging around the wrong people all your life,” I say, stopping just short of telling her I wouldn't mind applying for the job.
She looks up at me, her face full of emotion. “Yeah, maybe I have.”
I lose myself in her deep blue eyes and let all my feelings for her bubble to the surface, knowing I can’t hold them back anymore. And I no longer want to.
Cupping her jaw with my hand, I lean down, closing the space between our mouths, waiting for her to meet me halfway. She licks her lips and closes her eyes, then moves so her mouth just barely skim against mine.
EIGHTEEN
Welcome to Fantasy Island…Bow Chicka Wow Wow
Libby
Our lips brush against each other, and I feel my entire body heat up in a way it never has before. Suddenly, I don't care about my job, I don't care about Richard, I don't care about my mum and her stupid young boyfriends. The only thing I care about is this moment right here with this man.
Letting his backpack fall off his shoulder and onto the ground, he kisses me gently at first, and when I press myself up against him and grip his muscular back with my hands, he gets the idea that I want more. He crushes his mouth to mine, giving me the kiss I've been waiting for my entire life. It's filled with passion and honesty, and somehow it feels like love, even though I know it can't be.
We stay like this, just kissing and letting our hands roam over each other's clothes for so long, it makes me completely crazy with lust. I let out a moan that speaks a thousand words of desire.
Suddenly, his hands are on my bottom and I feel myself being lifted into the air in what I'm pretty sure is every woman's fantasy move. He holds me up while we kiss some more, with only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the song of some birds I don't know the name of (and at this moment do not care because the thing he's doing with his tongue is complete magic).
A gentle rain starts to fall. It's refreshing, and it feels as though it could cleanse away all my pain and disappointment. The rain intensifies, but we don't stop even though we’re both drenched. At this point, we’re both so far gone, it would take a force of nature to stop us.
A huge crack of thunder booms, shaking the ground. Well, there it is. Hello, Mother Nature.
Harrison pulls back and says, “That's not good.”
I stare at him with what I'm sure is a dreamy expression on my face. “I completely disagree. That was very good.”
“I meant the thunder. What we were doing just now was better than very good.” He sets me down and grabs my hand. Picking up the backpack, he swings it over his shoulder and we start running even though I don't know where were running to.
“You don't happen to have a house here, do you?”
“More like a rustic cabin, but it’ll get us out of the storm.”
The ground is wet and slippery under our feet as we run and slide our way along the path, laughing a little at ourselves as the rain beats down on us.
“I'm glad you're enjoying this!” he yells over the sound of the rain.
“I've honestly never felt so alive in my entire life!” I shout, suddenly shocked by the fact that it's true. I feel like a new woman, suddenly — a brave, adventurous one who parasails and kisses gorgeous men in the jungle.
“Okay, so the next part is going to be a little scary,” he shouts as we round a corner and come to a sudden stop where the ground drops off into a steep, lush valley below.
On the other side of the valley sits a tiny cabin, and my heart jumps to my throat when I realize the only way there is over a rickety bridge. When I give it a hard look, I see it’s really more of a rope and wooden plank type of thing that's rocking wildly from side to side in the wind.
Aaaaand Adventurous Libby has left the island.
“No,” I say, shaking my head as my pulse pounds in my ears. “I can't do that. Nope. That's not for me.”
A clap of thunder causes me to jump, and Harrison looks down at me. “There's not much choice. The trick is —”
“Don't look down? Yeah, you don’t look down. I’ll be just fine over here on solid ground because I'm not going to get on that thing. In fact, I think I’ll just head back towards the beach.” I turn and call, “I'll see you later,” over my shoulder.
Harrison grabs my wrist and stops me. “It'll be okay. I promise you.”
“I can't, Harrison,” I say, trying not to sound like I’m about to cry but failing miserably.
“Do you trust me?”
“It's not you that's the problem. It's me. There's no way I can make it across that thing without falling. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not all that athletic.”
“You don’t need to be. I've got it from here.”
He slips the backpack onto my shoulders, then clips it across my chest and tightens it. “You ready?”
“No.” I shake my head vigorously.
“Just close your eyes and trust me.”
I close my eyes tight, deciding that actually does seem like an excellent coping mechanism at the moment. Suddenly, I feel myself being lifted into the air, fireman style, and I clutch his back with both hands, feeling utterly terrified.
“Whatever you do, do not open your eyes!”
“No problem,” I say, wincing and clinging to him like a baby monkey to its mother.
“So, you’re taking us a different way, right? A not-on-the-bridge-that-is-definitely-going-to-collapse way?” I shout.
My answer comes in the sudden swaying and bouncing up and down. Oh great, now I feel like I have to pee. Oh God! Do not do that right now. Do not pee, Libby. There would literally be nothing worse than you peeing at this moment!
Unless I peed and got a nosebleed at the same time.
Oh God, I just want to wake up and be at home in my bed. Maybe if I click my heels together and say, “There's no place like home,” I’ll open my eyes and this wi
ll be over.
We continue to bounce along, and a huge gust of wind hits. I feel Harrison freeze for a moment while the bridge swings left and right. I do my best not to scream even though I'm pretty sure someone’s screaming, and it sounds both very loud and a lot like me.
“Are we going to die here?” I shout. “I don't want to die!”
Just as I'm shouting the word 'die' for the second time, Harrison’s steps feel very steady. Then the rain stops. I open my eyes and lift my head to discover we're already in the cabin.
Harrison sets me down and smiles at me. “Told you we’d be okay.”
I shrug, trying to look nonchalant. “I knew that the whole time.”
“You’re such a bad liar,” he says as he unclips the backpack and slides it off my shoulders. The look he gives me makes me feel as though he's just completely undressed me instead of just removing a bag. “We should get out of these wet things,” he says with a sexy grin.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Did you know a storm was coming?”
He holds up one hand. “Scout’s honour, I had no idea.”
“Were you ever even a scout?”
“No, but I buy their disgusting tubs of popcorn every year when they come around, so that should count for something.” He peels off his shirt, and I try not to drool at the perfection that is his wet, naked torso.
He sets his shirt down on the back of a kitchen chair, and it hits me that I haven't even bothered to look around the small structure that's sheltering us from the rain. It's a one-room cabin with a hot plate, a table for two and a double bed.
I point to the bed and say, “There aren't any bedbugs, right?”
“No bedbugs,” he says, chuckling a little as he reaches for me. “Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to set the mood here, and you're kind of killing it.”
Then he lifts my shirt over my head.
***
Okay, so that was mind-blowingly incredible. It was body-blowingly amazing too. Is that a thing? Because if not, it totally should be the phrase for having your entire world rocked so hard, you don’t think you’ll ever recover from being so thoroughly and deliciously sexified. Three times.
The Honeymooner Page 16
