Her Fake Island Wedding

by Caitlyn Lynch

  Jill was giving her a very knowing look, as she escorted two VIP clients into the elevator. “Deets later!” she hissed at Lucy just before the doors slid closed.

  ***

  Bruce could still taste Lucy on his lips as he headed back to his cabin, where he found Rosie and Cory hastily shoving his belongings into bags.

  “Uh, am I moving?” He arched a brow, leaning in the doorway to watch.

  “Yes, because Lucy’s mother is going to want to see where you two live, and it’s going to be pretty damn obvious you’re not living together if none of your shit is in her room.” Rosie never slowed her speedy packing, and Cory didn’t even look up.

  Realising she was right, Bryce blew out his cheeks and went to join them. “So I’m moving in with her, am I?”

  “Her cabin’s nicer than yours,” Cory said with a sideways grin at him. “She’s got pictures up on the walls and everything.”

  Bryce supposed his room did look a bit bare. He’d never really thought of it as more than a place to lay his head when he needed to sleep, though, preferring to be outside or spending time with friends. His favourite place in the cabin was actually the hammock outside on the deck, which he paused to unhitch before following Rosie and Cory, laden with bags, off to Lucy’s cabin.

  The three of them spent a hasty half hour arranging things in Lucy’s cabin, which Bryce had never seen, and had to admit it was a lot nicer than his, despite having the same basic layout. Lucy had several framed pictures of ocean life on the walls, soft cushions on her couch, a woven silk throw on the bed; all the little things that made it look like a home.

  They’d just finished reorganising Lucy’s wardrobe to have Bryce’s clothes fit in alongside hers when his phone vibrated with an incoming text.

  “It’s Lucy,” he said, checking it. Mum wants a drink. Meet you at the pool bar?

  “Text her back, tell her to meet you here,” Cory suggested.

  “Good plan,” Bryce agreed. He’d long since figured the easiest way for him to send texts was to use his phone’s virtual assistant, so he quickly dictated a return message. Cool. Swing by our room on your way down.

  Gotcha, followed by a smiley face emoji, came through a few seconds later, and he knew Lucy had received the message loud and clear.

  “You two better scarper,” he told Cory and Rosie. “Thanks for all the help.”

  “You’re welcome!” he was told as they made themselves scarce.

  Looking around, he couldn’t see anything out of place. The cabin looked as though it was occupied by a couple; his toothbrush in a glass beside Lucy’s in the bathroom, the nightstands beside the bed arranged into his and hers, with several books piled on her side and his dive computer on his. The only thing he had left to do was put up his hammock, and he hurried out onto the veranda to do that now, hoping the hooks on his were duplicated here.

  They were, and he was laying at his ease, one foot brushing the floor pushing him in a gentle swing when Lucy and Justine came strolling down the path.

  “Well, this looks very comfortable,” Justine said, amused, as Bryce lifted his hand in a lazy wave.

  “Hey, it’s my day off,” he said equably. “Wasn’t technically on duty this morning, but I figured I might as well come in with Lucy to meet you. I’m taking out a night dive tonight.” Pushing himself up to his feet, he stretched luxuriantly before bending to kiss Lucy. “I’ll just grab my thongs.”

  “Thongs?” he heard Justine exclaim as he slid the screen door open to enter the cabin, and chuckled to himself.

  “That’s what Aussies call flip-flops,” Lucy explained, following him in. “While they technically speak English, there are some weird colloquialisms that take a bit of getting used to.”

  Justine stood in the doorway, looking around, taking in the space. While the cabins were fairly generous for one person, they were cosy at best for two permanent residents. Bryce had deliberately left a discarded T-shirt draped over the bedpost, and Lucy picked it up, gave him an admonishing look and took it to the closet to put away.

  “Sorry, sweetie,” he said with a penitent smile, shoving his feet into his rubber thongs. “I’m still getting used to sharing my space,” he told Justine. “I’d been living on my own for quite a while before Lucy swept me off my feet.”

  Lucy chuckled at that and nudged him in the ribs; he threw his arm around her shoulders to hug her close. “Don’t deny it. You took one look and decided I was the one for you.”

  “He’s full of it, isn’t he?” Justine said, but she was laughing as she spoke, and Lucy laughed too.

  “To be honest, he’s not far wrong,” she admitted. “I mean, look at him!”

  Both women looked him up and down, making Bryce grin. “When you’re done objectifying me, ladies, I can hear a cold beer calling my name,” he said cheerfully. “And I’m sure I heard you say something about a piña colada, Justine - our bartender buddy Nessa makes the best one on the Reef. She’s English too, a Londoner originally, though she emigrated out here when she was in her teens.”

  “Is she used to this heat yet?” Justine asked as they ambled from the cabin towards the pool bar, Bryce’s arm still slung casually around Lucy’s shoulders. “It’s like walking around in a steam bath!”

  “It’s summertime, even the locals are feeling it,” Bryce told her. “Hence, the desire for a cold beer. Just the one though, sadly, since I’m diving later.”

  They exited the staff accomodation area through a gate leading out onto the resort’s main paths, and from there it was only a minute’s walk to the pool bar where Nessa was shaking cocktails with eye-blurring speed.

  “Hey!” the bartender called as they took seats at one side of the bar. Her long black braids swung as she replaced bottles on the shelf and almost danced over to them, teeth shining white in her dark face as she smiled widely. “You must be Lucy’s mum. Delighted to meet you. What can I get for you?”

  They ordered drinks, and watched Nessa mix the cocktails; she made it look like an art form, hands flashing as she deftly twirled bottles and blended ingredients. Pouring the cocktail into a tall frosted glass in front of Justine, she garnished it with a flourish; a piece of pineapple and a cherry on a skewer.

  “Wow,” Justine said, obviously impressed. Nessa grinned at her before setting a long necked bottle of beer in front of Lucy and another for Bryce.

  “Glass?” Nessa checked, and Lucy nodded. Watching her from the corner of his eye, Bryce nodded as well. He’d seen Lucy drink from the bottle plenty of times, but perhaps Justine disapproved, in which case he’d make sure he minded his manners as well. Frankly, he didn’t care either way. As long as the beer was cold.

  “All right,” Justine said when she was about halfway down her cocktail, “hit me with it. Why are you getting married in such a rush? Are you pregnant?”

  Lucy snorted beer out her nose onto the bar. Bryce had to choke down his laughter, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek. He caught Nessa’s eye as she came over and had to look away, seeing her fighting not to laugh as well. Justine’s question had been quite loud.

  “No!” Lucy gasped, grabbing the napkins Nessa swiftly deposited in front of her and wiping her nose with them. “Christ, Mum! Seriously?”

  “Just asking, dear,” Justine sipped at her cocktail, unperturbed. “I wouldn’t be upset. You know I’m longing for grandchildren. Don’t make me wait too long, dear,” she turned to Bryce. “How are those swimmers? Nice and healthy? I hope diving doesn’t affect sperm production. All those changes in pressure…”

  He gave up the effort and burst out laughing.

  “Just kill me now,” Lucy groaned, face beet red.

  Justine rolled her eyes. “Lucinda Marie Manning, I didn’t raise you to be a prude. The two of you have clearly been banging on every available surface for some time. You’re in your thirties now, after all; I just don’t want you to waste time. Take it from me, have children while you’re young, then you’ve still got plenty of lif
e left to live once they’ve grown up and flown from the nest.”

  “Clearly you’re a fine example of practising what you preach,” Bryce said, since Lucy appeared to have swallowed her tongue.

  “Of course. I’m glad Lucy waited longer than I did, but child-bearing years don’t last forever. Nessa, darling, would you make me another one of those? It was absolutely marvellous.”

  “Coming right up.” Nessa had given up any pretence of not eavesdropping after wiping Lucy’s beer-snort off the bar. She made Justine’s cocktail and delivered it with a flourish before quite blatantly hanging around to listen in.

  Justine’s eye was caught by light reflecting off something hanging around Nessa’s neck. “I say, is that real?” She squinted at the diamond glittering blue fire from the ring on a thin gold chain.

  “My engagement ring?” Nessa lifted her hand to lightly touch the ring. “Yes. I don’t wear it working behind the bar, though. Too many glasses to scratch.”

  “Obviously your fiancé values you highly,” Justine assessed the ring with an experienced eye, before glancing back down at Lucy’s simpler, though still high-value, ring and wrinkling her nose slightly.

  “I chose this,” Lucy jumped to Bryce’s defence. “I wanted something I can wear at work.”

  “Also, competing with Nessa’s fiancé is a losing proposition,” Bryce added, amused by Justine’s attempted put-down. “She’s marrying a billionaire, after all.”

  It was Justine’s turn to choke on her drink. Nessa laughed out loud.

  “Nessa’s engaged to Jace Hunter. He owns the island,” Lucy explained.

  “And yes, I could give up working at the bar if I wanted, but I enjoy it,” Nessa said when Justine gave her an incredulous look. “Jace is a very private person, but I like human contact. A few shifts a week here suits me fine.”

  “Well.” Justine recovered her composure. “I’m sure you know your own mind. Congratulations,” she added as an afterthought. “When’s your wedding?”

  Nessa shrugged. “When we get around to it. No rush.” Her grin was absolutely wicked. “I’m a few years younger than Lucy, so I’ve got a couple extra child-bearing years up my sleeve.”

  “And to think, I thought you were my friend,” Lucy said dryly, making Nessa laugh again.

  Chapter Nine

  Justine mellowed out after another cocktail, and somehow they managed to escape without directly answering the question about why they were in such a hurry to get married. Finally, Justine declared that the jet lag was catching up with her and she was going to go rest for a while before meeting them for dinner at the Italian restaurant in the main hotel building.

  “And over dinner, you must tell me all about your family, Bryce!” Justine declared.

  “Won’t that be fun,” Bryce muttered under his breath. Lucy squeezed his hand and he mustered up a smile.

  “We’ll walk back with you part of the way,” Lucy said. “When we turn in through the staff gate, you just carry straight on into the main resort reception. You can’t get lost.”

  Draining the last of his beer, Bryce set the glass down and thanked Nessa. She gave him a warm smile and a wink as she efficiently cleared away the empty glasses.

  Lucy’s hand slipped into his again as they walked away from the bar, and Bryce thought briefly about how natural it felt to hold her hand now. He knew he was still going to be reaching out to take her hand instinctively long after Justine had gone home, which was likely to lead to a few awkward moments.

  “All right, I’ll see you two lovebirds later,” Justine said as they arrived at the staff gate. “No doubt you can think of something to do to fill in your afternoon!” She winked at Bryce.

  She thinks we’re going to have sex, Bryce realized, and told himself firmly not to blush. Lucy was already doing enough of that for both of them.

  “Any time I get to spend with Lucy is a gift,” he said, knowing it was a sappy line but sure Justine would eat it up. She gave him an amused look before turning on her heel and heading for the main resort building.

  Lucy sagged against Bryce as soon as her mother was out of sight.

  “Hey.” Letting go of her hand, he put a bracing arm around her shoulders instead. “C’mon. You’re doing great. She’s fallen for it hook, line and sinker.”

  “She’s been here for two hours,” Lucy bemoaned as he opened the gate. “I’ve got to survive two weeks of this!”

  “We’ll survive it together.” They reached her cabin and Bryce hesitated. “What do you want to do, here? Rosie basically moved me in with you.”

  Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. “Bless her. I thought she was just going to make it look good. On the other hand, Justine is the kind of person who would feel completely entitled to look in any drawer or cupboard she felt like, so maybe it’s for the best.”

  “It’s not going to be terribly convenient for you if I’m walking in every ten minutes to get a change of clothes or brush my teeth, though,” Bryce pointed out.

  “Well, you could just stay here,” Lucy said, opening the cabin door and gesturing to him to enter.

  A dead silence fell between them as Bryce stared at her.

  “Uh, Lucy,” he said hesitantly.

  “Platonically! I mean, I’m not going to jump on you. It’s a queen size bed!”

  She was babbling. Bryce stared at her, wondering what the hell was going through her mind.

  “I’m not going to jump on you either,” he said slowly, “at least, not when I’m awake, but when I’m asleep… well, I don’t think I’d jump on you then either, but how would you react if, for example, you woke up with me shoving my morning wood against your backside?”

  Lucy’s eyes widened, and then she let out a giggle of shock. “Bryce!”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s a natural thing. I wake up most mornings hard as a rock.” He shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it… until after I’ve woken up.”

  Lucy’s pale cheeks took on a deeper hue, and she dropped her gaze before murmuring “Well… maybe I could give you a hand with that.”

  She could not possibly mean what he almost desperately wanted to believe she did. Shocked, Bryce stared at her, not at all sure what to say. For a moment there was complete silence in the cabin, which suddenly seemed a lot smaller than it had before.

  “Did you seriously just offer to give me a morning hand job?” he blurted out finally.

  Lucy’s lips twitched, and then she began to laugh, almost hysterically. Flopping down on the bed, she giggled madly, rolling up into a ball, grabbing her pillow to muffle her chuckles and snorts.

  “Okay, I think today’s been a bit much for you,” Bryce said, realising she was overwrought. Gingerly, he sat down on the bed beside her, reached out to smooth his hand over her hair. She grabbed onto his hand and clutched it as though he’d thrown her a lifeline, still laughing but now with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Lucy. Take a breath, sweetheart. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  He ended up lying down with her in his arms, her small fists knotted in the fabric of his T-shirt, his hands stroking her back in a soothing, steady rhythm while she hiccoughed and giggled against his chest. Trying to calm her, he began to hum softly under his breath, after wracking his brain to think of something slow and gentle. Finally, Lucy’s heaving breaths settled, her hiccoughs and giggles fading away.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled finally into Bryce’s shirt.

  “Don’t be.” He never slowed his gentle stroking of her back.

  “Was that Simon and Garfunkel?”

  He couldn’t help but smile, though she wouldn’t see it with her head tucked under his chin. “Only you, Lucy Manning, would retain enough presence of mind to identify a song while in the midst of a panic attack.”

  “It wasn’t a panic attack. Just a… a minor breakdown.”

  “You’re so full of shit. It’s okay to admit your mother can drive you to panic attacks. How about we create some sort of signal we can us
e, which you can give me to let me know you need to get out and get some space to get yourself back together?”

  She didn’t say anything, but she did nod against his chest.

  “A signal word?” Bryce pushed.

  “How about ‘Cecelia’?” Lucy suggested after a moment.

  “See, I knew you were a Simon and Garfunkel fan really.”

  Her tight grip on his shirt loosened enough for her to poke him in the ribs. “I just thought it’d be an easy word to work into conversation. Far as I know, there isn’t a Cecelia on staff here, but Mum won’t know that.”

  “Perfect,” Bryce approved. He didn’t loosen his firm hold on her, or slow his stroking of her back. Several long minutes of silence passed, but it didn’t feel awkward. Lucy slowly relaxed against him, her hands spreading out to gently splay on his chest.

  “Thanks,” she said finally, though she didn’t specify what for. Bryce figured ‘for everything’ would just about cover it.

  “You’re welcome,” he responded. “Your mum’s a piece of work, huh.” He didn’t make it a question.

  “She was behaving quite well today, actually.” Lucy tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “She does, when she has an audience of more than just me.”

  “Christ, Lucy.” Instinctively, he tightened his hold, hugging her close. “Is it okay for me to say I don’t want you to be alone with her?”

  “That is very okay.”

  “I’ll spread the word. I’m pretty sure Rosie, Nessa and the other girls will be happy to make sure you’re always surrounded by a crowd.” Lifting his hand to her face, he gently swept a lock of her dark brown hair back from her cheek, cupped it in his hand. “How can you look so like her and yet be so different? You’re one of the sweetest, nicest people I’ve ever met, and Justine… is like a box jellyfish. Pretty to look at, but every tendril has a lethal sting.”

  “That might be the most accurate description of my mother I’ve ever heard.” Laughter, true, genuine laughter, creased the corners of Lucy’s eyes. “I’ve been wondering all day if I was mad to have gone ahead with this plan, but right now, you being here with me is the only thing that’s making her visit bearable.”