I laugh hysterically as Amanda comes to stand next to me and Nathan takes her place. The men are all lined up, some more excited than others, but I know Chase won’t let anyone but him catch that garter.
Nathan peeks over his shoulder as he twirls the garter around his finger. “Ready?” he calls out behind him. “On three. One, two…” and he launches the garter in the air. Men take flight as they all reach up, trying to catch it. The garter flies over all their heads and the men dive for it, wrestling for a strip of lace. After a minute, Chase appears disheveled, but victorious.
Standing straight, Chase holds the garter in victory. “Thank God,” I mutter to myself.
“Sweetie, there was no way anyone else was coming out of that pile with that garter,” Amanda says.
Chase saunters over to the chair in the center of the dance floor. Smiling, he slowly beckons me with his index finger. Amanda gives me a gentle shove and I make my way over to Chase. “Sit,” he breathes, and I do.
The DJ comes over and asks our names. “Ladies and gentlemen, Chase will now place the garter on the beautiful Olivia’s leg. Give Chase a little help and chant ‘higher’ to give him some motivation.”
“That’s one thing I don’t need,” Chase whispers as he kneels on one knee.
I cross my legs, shaking with anticipation. Biting my lip, I wonder how far Chase is willing to go. We are in public, after all. “Okay, here we go,” the DJ announces as Chase takes off my right shoe.
“I don’t want this to get in the way,” he says with a wink. Moving my dress up to my knees, he runs his hands down my leg, caressing it as he goes. I tense and grip the edge of the chair with both hands. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried something naughty in public. Chase takes the garter, rests it around my ankle, and looks back at the group of men behind him.
“Higher!” they chant.
“They say higher,” he says as he brings it past my calf. As the guys keep chanting, Chase keeps raising the garter.
“Just do it already,” I whisper, embarrassed from all the attention.
“Patience. All good things come to those who wait,” he murmurs as it moves to just under my knee.
“Higher!”
The garter slips past my knee and Chase’s hands are no longer in view of the crowd. Slowly, he skims his fingers up my thigh. I start to flush, hoping this isn’t going where I think it will.
“Higher!”
“I don’t think you can get much higher,” I say.
“Just a little more,” he says, looking into my eyes, his dimple making an appearance in his left cheek. One more second of Chase looking at me that way with his hands under my dress and I might combust. He brings the garter up another inch and his fingers brush against my panties. I hold my breath, waiting, but nothing happens. He withdraws his hands and stands. The crowd claps and cheers as I struggle to put my shoe back on. Chase extends his hand and helps me out of the chair. Pulling me close, he murmurs, “You didn’t think I would do anything inappropriate in public, did you?”
“Um—”
“Dirty girl,” he teases, kissing my forehead.
The cake has been eaten, the last dance is long over, and all the guests have departed, so Chase and I make our way back to Amanda’s cottage for the relaxing after party. I take off my shoes, throw them on the floor, and plop down on the couch next to where Justin and Miranda are sitting. Chase goes into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of white wine. Handing one to me, he places his on the table next to the couch. Sitting down, he reaches over, maneuvers my legs so my feet are resting on his thighs, picks up my left foot, and starts to massage it.
“Mmmm,” is all I manage to mutter.
“I don’t know how you ladies walk around in those things,” Justin comments as he copies Chase.
“It’s the price we pay for looking beautiful,” Miranda answers.
“Where’s Amanda?” I ask.
“Right here. I needed to get out of that dress,” she says, exiting the bedroom in a shorter, less formal version of her wedding dress.
“Maybe we should’ve booked the massages for after the wedding,” Miranda comments.
“Nope, I’m good,” I say, taking a sip of wine. Chase is really good at this, his thumbs hitting the right spots on the soles of my feet.
“Feel good?” he whispers.
“Amazing. I could definitely get used to this,” I moan.
His eyes sparkling, he answers, “Good.”
“What time are you flying home tomorrow?” Justin asks Chase.
“Late afternoon sometime. I’ll check with the pilot in the morning. What about you?”
“First thing in the morning,” Miranda answers. “I’m flying to Greece for a photo shoot early Monday morning and I want to be fresh.”
“Where’s Nathan?” Chase asks Amanda.
“Dealing with his parents,” she answers with a wave toward the back door. “I think his mom had too many glasses of champagne.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Chase chuckles.
“His old man can put ’em away, though,” Justin says, impressed.
Chase switches to the other foot. At this rate, I might fall asleep on the couch, I’m so comfortable. “Are you staying here all week?” I ask Amanda.
“No. We’re flying to France and spending two weeks on the French Riviera.”
“Wow, sounds fantastic.”
“I know! I can’t wait. We’re leaving tomorrow morning as well.”
“Good Lord. Never a dull moment,” Nathan sighs as he walks in through the back door.
“How is she?” Amanda asks as he pulls her into an embrace. He’s still in his linen suit, his tie dangling around his neck.
“Fine. When she gets a little tipsy, she gets dramatic. Crying how her little boy got married and other nonsense. Believe me, you don’t want to see that hot mess. I’ll let my dad deal with it. She’ll be fine in the morning.” Letting Amanda go, he walks into the kitchen and pours himself a drink.
“It was a fantastic wedding,” I say, trying to change the subject.
“Yes! It was amazing!” Miranda squeals in agreement.
“So, Chase, are you next or what?” Nathan teases.
“Hopefully,” he answers, looking over at me. “We’ll see.” His gaze holds me steady, trying to read me. I stay impassive.
“I love weddings!” Miranda says, smiling.
“I love you,” he mouths.
“Good morning, beautiful. Time to get up.” I open my eyes to see Chase lying next to me. Stroking my cheek, he moves a tendril of hair out of my eyes.
“Morning.”
“Are you going to get up today?”
“Yes,” I mutter. I’m not about to have a repeat of yesterday.
“I let you sleep late. It’s just before ten.”
“Wow, you did let me sleep late.” I stretch and roll over on my side, facing Chase.
“You wanted to relax today, correct?”
“Yes, but I think I might want to sightsee a little bit. We rushed around Friday night, so I didn’t really get to see anything when we went over to Providenciales.”
“Sure, we can do that.”
“But I don’t want to do anything strenuous. Just sightseeing. No scuba diving, no parasailing, no jet skis. I want a calm, relaxing day.”
“Your wish is my command,” he says with a wink. “We’ll pack up everything and bring it with us since the airport is on Providenciales. I have a car that will take us to my plane, so we’ll leave our bags there while we sightsee.”
“Perfect.”
“Now, we need to get up.” He rolls off the bed and saunters into the bathroom.
Turning to lay on my back, I stare up at the ceiling fan spinning slowly. A nice, relaxing day with Chase. I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. The last time we did anything truly relaxing was our walk through Central Park the day after his father’s party. Even then, I was stressed since he bought me new clothes. No,
I can’t wait to spend a quiet day sightseeing with Chase.
We board the Parrot II and head over to Providenciales. The water couldn’t be calmer and the sun is bright as usual. We sit at the back of the boat, Chase’s arm around my shoulders, holding me close. I rest my head on Chase’s shoulder and watch the island disappear.
We arrive at the main island half an hour later. Chase and a deckhand grab our bags and place them on the dock. The driver of the town car Chase hired picks them up and places them in the trunk. I hop on the landing at the back of the boat and another deckhand helps me onto the dock. Once Chase is off the boat, we get in the car.
“Where to, Mr. Remington?”
“I don’t know. Olivia, do you know where we’re going?” I pick up the map I found in a drawer back in our villa and look to see if anything jumps out at me.
“There’s a scooter tour located in Grace Bay. Sounds like fun, and it offers lunch on the beach.”
“Grace Bay, it is,” Chase tells the driver.
Twenty minutes later, we arrive in Grace Bay. Paradise Scooters is located in the Ports of Call shopping complex and is easy to find. We exit the car and Chase goes in to inquire about the tour.
I’ve never ridden on a Vespa before, but it doesn’t look too complicated. Like riding a bike with a motor. Easy.
Chase exits the store with a guide in tow, holding two helmets. Handing me one, he puts the other one on. I follow his lead and the guide points us to two scooters on the end.
“Good morning. My name is Drake, and I’ll be your tour guide. On this tour, you will be able to see Chalk Sound, the coastal settlement of Blue Hills, the Sapodilla Bay Hill Rock Carvings, the Caicos Conch Farm, and some of our incredible beaches. Follow me, but not too closely. Pay attention to the roads and we’ll have a good time.”
“I opted out of the lunch. I thought we could do our own beach lunch.”
“That’s fine,” I say, smiling. Chase and I get on our scooters and follow Drake.
Ten minutes into our tour, he stops near a beautiful turquoise lagoon. We get off our scooters and walk toward the water.
“Be careful,” Drake warns. “The Coral Sumac, also known as Poisonwood, is a poisonous tree very common here. Touching it can cause rashes, and any contact with the sap of this tree will result in serious blisters and skin issues.”
Avoiding anything green, I walk closer to the edge of the lagoon. “Chase, look at the huge lizard!” I say, pointing at the green dragon-looking thing swimming near the rocks.
He chuckles as he says, “That’s an iguana.”
“Well, isn’t an iguana a lizard?” I ask, affronted.
“Nearly all the islands with a decent amount of vegetation have Turks and Caicos Rock Iguanas. These large lizards exist by foraging for fruits, plants, prickly pear cactuses, and the occasional insect. Unlike the iguanas found on the other islands in the country, which burrow in the sand, the iguanas on the Chalk Sound make their homes by cleaning out the existing holes and crevices in the rock,” Drake says, jumping in.
“That’s so cool!” I exclaim. Chase smiles and shakes his head.
“Look over there, Olivia. Do you see the long, scary looking fish?”
“Yes, there are two of them.”
“They’re barracuda.”
“Barracudas are common in the water. Stingrays and small lemon sharks can occasionally be sighted as well,” Drake tells us.
“There aren’t many trees, and I don’t see any birds either,” I mutter aloud.
“Bird life isn’t as abundant here as some of the other wetland areas in the country, but the far western side of the lagoon can have a large number of gulls, terns, and some herons at times.”
“The water is so clear,” I say, amazed.
“The water is extremely shallow here, under five feet. If you look toward the center of the lagoon, you’ll see a dark spot. That is the wreck of a twin engine plane.”
After a few minutes, Chase comes up behind me. “Do you want to look some more, or are you ready to move on?”
“No, I’m ready.”
We drive down the road a bit further and make a left, then wind up on a dirt road. Drake stops at a small beach across from Chalk Sound. Reminds me of a very small version of Fire island, with water on both sides.
“This is Sapodilla Bay. It’s a nine-hundred-foot stretch of sheltered beach. The water here is very shallow, calm, and clear. The sand is a bit more silt-like and finer than many of the other beaches on the island. Just up this hill is the Sapodilla Bay Hill Rock Carvings.”
We follow Drake up a small hill, revealing a bunch of grey boulders with writing all over them. “This is so cool,” I whisper.
“These rocks represent sentiments left by shipwrecked sailors and travelers as they waited for their ships. The inscriptions found here include names, dates, symbols, and simple depictions of ships and buildings. The age of these carvings range from somewhere around the mid-seventeen-hundreds and well into the eighteen-hundreds. There were more, but due to theft and vandalism, some stones were unfortunately removed during a preservation project.”
“That’s terrible,” I say to Drake. “Who would want to ruin history like this?”
“Some tourists don’t know any better.”
We take a quick tour of what’s left and make our way back down the hill. I look out over the water once again, and murmur, “I wish the water was this blue back home,” to Chase, who’s standing right behind me.
“Then we wouldn’t have an excuse to go to these tropical beaches,” he says as he puts his arms around my waist.
“True,” I agree, feeling more than content in his arms with the light breeze blowing off the water.
“Ready?” he asks, nipping my ear.
“Whenever you are,” I answer. “Where to now?” I ask Drake.
Drake takes us to a few more places on the island, each one more interesting than the last, and we get back to the scooter rental a little after three.
“So much for lunch,” I mutter.
“So, we make it an early dinner. Stop worrying,” Chase says, kissing me on the temple.
“Okay. Where should we eat?”
“I don’t know. You’re the one with the map,” he teases.
“Alright, let me look,” I say, shoving him. “What about Da Conch Shack?” I ask, reading over the dining options on the back.
“That works out perfectly,” Chase says over my shoulder. “It’s right near the airport. Da Conch Shack it is,” he announces. Folding my map, I follow Chase to the car.
After driving for about twenty minutes, we arrive at Da Conch Shack. Walking up to the hostess, we are immediately seated at a picnic table right on the beach, the beautiful water creating the perfect ambiance. If we had restaurants like this closer to home, I would never eat anywhere else.
A waiter greets us and asks what we would like to drink. Perusing the menu, I see it’s ‘Da Conch Shack and Rhum Bar’.
“What are you drinking?” Chase asks me.
“I think I might have to try their infamous rum punch.”
“Sounds good.” He turns his attention to our waiter. “Can we get a pitcher of that?”
“No problem,” he answers and walks away.
“A pitcher?” I ask.
“Sure, why not?” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “When in Rome.”
The waiter brings back a multi-colored pitcher and places two plastic cups down on the table. After pouring our cocktails, he places the pitcher in the center and stands over the table. “Have you decided?” I ask Chase.
“Not really, what do you feel like?”
“I think I’m getting the fish tacos.”
“Sounds good.” He turns to the waiter. “She’ll have the fish tacos, and I’ll have the cracked conch.” Nodding, he walks away.
“Did you have a good time this weekend?” he asks.
“Fantastic time,” I answer, sipping my drink.
“I would do this ever
y weekend if you let me.”
“No. I can’t do this every weekend. What I would love is some quality time at home. Lounging on the couch watching a movie, eating popcorn while snuggled up next to you. That’s all I want.”
“That can be arranged,” he says, smiling.
Sunday afternoon, we boarded Chase’s private jet and flew back to reality. Monday morning came fast and it was back to work. I barely had time to unpack from my crazy trip. Needing to make up hours from my extended stay, I didn’t get home until late, and I was exhausted. Tuesday, was much of the same. I’d spoken to Chase, but we haven’t seen each other since Sunday; this past weekend took a toll on his schedule as well, and he’s had to work late every night.
Here it is, Wednesday already, and I haven’t had time to go food shopping since before I left for the wedding. I don’t want to order in again, since there are only so many places that will deliver, so I go out. There’s a great sushi place a few blocks from my apartment, and it’s a warm evening. Taking my time walking though the busy streets of Manhattan, I enjoy the sights and sounds of the city.
Earlier this afternoon, Chase left me a message, saying he needed to work late, again. I’ve been tempted to pay him a visit at his office, but since I don’t like surprises, I’ve refrained.
As I’m walking the few blocks to Taste of Tokyo , a wave of uneasiness washes over me. A feeling that someone in the shadows is watching me. Stopping, I spin and look behind me, my eyes searching behind cars, in store windows, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but there’s no one suspicious. The hair on the back of my neck stands as an ominous feeling surges through my entire body. Continuing my walk, I can’t seem to shake the sense that I’m being watched. Picking up the pace, I take out my cell phone and dial Chase as I walk briskly the rest of the way, needing the distraction.
“Hello there, beautiful. What a pleasant surprise,” Chase coos.
Not wanting to alarm him, I try to talk as normal as I can while I speed-walk toward the restaurant. “Hey, just calling to say hi.”
“Where are you?”
Lost Without You: Book 2 in the Chasing Olivia Series Page 12
