“What’s wrong?”
“I, uh, unfortunately I don’t have long.” He rubs his hand flat over the back of his neck and scowls down at the phone in his other hand.
“Oh? Can you stay for a quick lunch?”
“I wish I could.” He sighs and finally looks at you. The anger curling just under his flesh seems to stop rolling up inside him as he meets your eyes. A calm washes over his features and he shrugs off whatever is eating at him and sits down. “I’ll take a few minutes. This can wait.” He jerks his head at the phone.
“What’s going on?”
“Ah, I’ve got a last minute booking. It’s for a lunch sail, but I don’t even do lunch sails,” he complains. “Honestly, I might just get away from doing these cruises. I’m not impressed with all the extra sails and the attitude lately. I don’t know. This was supposed to be fun, you know?”
Your gut twists and you reach your hand across the table, grabbing his. “Oh, don’t say that. You love this job. How many people can say that? Not many, that’s for sure. Besides, what would you do if you quit?”
George frowns at the table for a second and then seems to shake it all off. His frustration with the clients and the staff. His bad mood. It’s all gone. His smile is genuine now when he looks at you. It makes you squirm in your seat, just the way his blue eyes hold you in their powerful gaze.
“Oh, I’m sure I’d get by,” he answers. “Maybe I’d find a beautiful lady to sail off into the sunset with,” he teases.
If only it were that easy.
“Well, I don’t know about that, but maybe we can do a sunset sail later this week. I’ll book it this time, so it can’t be interrupted,” you offer.
“I’d love that.” He lifts your hand and kisses the back before standing back up. “But duty calls. I don’t want to keep people waiting.” He looks at me like he can think of a million things he’d rather do right now, and all of them include us being naked.
“Can you text me when you’re finished up for the day? I’d love to meet up tonight.” You bite your lip as another vision of you two “meeting up” last night floods your memory.
“I was hoping you’d ask.” He grins. “I’ll see you tonight, Jane.” You try not to wince at the false name. Now that you’ve shared yourself with him, it’s just wrong to keep your real identity from him.
“Okay.” You hold up your fingers in a frozen wave as he walks back out the door. Your eyes slide over to the window and you track him until you can’t see him anymore outside. As soon as he’s out of sight, you stand up, leaving your lunch on the table, and walk out.
You’re so busy trying to see George out the window, you bump into a guy as you walk out of the dining room. “Oh, sorry,” you mumble.
“No worries.” The familiar voice makes you stare up in disbelief. Your jaw opens with surprise as Logan stands next to you. However, it’s not just Logan. No, it’s also his friend Beckett and a gorgeous woman around your age with a sparkle in her eyes and the craziest bed head you’ve ever seen.
You stifle a laugh as you realize exactly how she spent her night, and probably her entire morning too. She looks like she’s walking on a cloud as she holds each of their arms for support.
“Hey, Jane.” Logan smiles. “Too bad we missed ya last night.” He smirks.
“Yeah, sorry about that.” You start, but he holds up his hand to stop you.
“Never be sorry, it’s all good.”
You nod. He’s right. You shouldn’t be sorry for doing what was right for you. Never.
“The week is still young,” he teases with a glint in his green eyes. “Maybe another time?”
“I don’t know about that. I think you might already have your hands full.” You nod at the woman who could be your sister. Logan wasn’t lying when he said he had a type. “And, honestly, I’ve already got plans this week too,” you answer truthfully.
“Oh yeah? Good for you.” He looks genuinely happy for you. “Go get yours, Jane, cut loose and have some fun.” He grins.
That reminds you, there’s somewhere you need to be. “Will do. Have fun, Logan,” you call out as you make your way out of the hotel.
“Always,” he answers and you have no doubt in your mind it’s the truth.
You slowly walk down the path, not wanting to bump into George the way you just did with Logan. Now you’re keeping your eyes open and your head clear. Watching where you’re going and taking each step with purpose. It’s hard to force yourself to walk so slow when you’re this excited, but somehow you manage to do it. For the first time, it strikes you that this might not go well. In your mind, you came up with the perfect scenario, like something from a movie. But what if it doesn’t happen that way?
You close in on the dock and see George on the Sea Sally getting her ready to sail.
What if he’s angry? Or never wants to see you again? Maybe you shouldn’t do this. No one is making you go through with anything. You stand still in your tracks and watch him. The man who makes your heart race and your thoughts spin.
No. You’re not leaving. You’re not going anywhere. If you aren’t willing to get real with him then you’ll never find anyone in this life.
You make yourself take those final steps down the shifting dock and, when you approach the side of his boat, George looks up at you with surprise.
“Jane! What are you doing here?”
“Can I come aboard?”
“Now? I mean, sure, go for it.” He hurries over to help you. “What’s going on?” He looks down the dock for his guest and then peers into your face.
“I wanted to go out with you today, for a sail,” you start to explain.
“Oh, I wish I could take you right now.” He pulls you into him and gives you a squeeze. “But I’ve got a lady heading over.”
“I know.” Your voice is soft and uncertain. “Her name is Erin McKinnon, isn’t it?” You look at your feet.
“How did you…? How could you possibly know that?”
“Because”—you take a deep breath—“I’m her.”
Silence. It’s louder than any words. Any questions. Any emotions. The silence sets you on edge and makes you wonder why you ever did this. Why bother telling him who you really are? Why not just leave what was working, and working damned well at that, alone?
Because you care.
The realization fills your heart with hope and your lungs with fresh air. You care about George, not just as a fling or a sexy silver fox you’ll fondly remember years from now. No. You care about him deeper than that, and you know he cares about you too.
George still hasn’t said a word. He just leans back against the edge of his boat and looks you up and down, like he’s seeing you with new eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head. “So, what’s with the fake name?” He finally speaks.
“Well.” You twist the tip of your shoe against the deck and try to decide how honest you should be. You figure you have nothing to lose by pouring it all out, by speaking from the heart. “When I took this vacation, I wanted to escape my life. Back home, I’m just Erin McKinnon. I’ve been working in the same cubicle now for, well, almost thirteen years. I’ve got no kids, no husband, and not a whole lot of friends. My life, if you want to call it that, was just so drab. I couldn’t stand it anymore, George.” You search his face for understanding. “I came here to leave all that behind. To leave that part of me behind. I needed a chance to stop being Erin for a week and let myself be someone else… anyone else. Because my world was just so bleak, George, every single day I felt like all the color was draining from it and everything was just becoming varying shades of gray.”
You sigh a deep breath of relief. Whether he accepts you or not, you told the truth. You laid it out there and stopped hiding behind an alias. The mystery has been shattered, now the question is: will he accept the truth?
“So, when you say you came here to be someone else,” he thinks over his words, speaking them slowly and deliberately, “are
you telling me that all this, the way you’ve been acting, is this all fake too?”
“No.” You’re surprised by the power in your single word. “That’s the thing, I realized I didn’t need to leave the real me behind or act like someone else. You actually helped me see that. You helped me understand I stopped living my life. I started letting the mundane day-to-day routine chip away at my soul, until I almost forgot who I was. But coming here, it filled my collapsed lungs with new breath and I woke up. I haven’t been pretending to be anyone different, this is me. Last night, that was me too. And I’m done with hiding that stuff inside anymore. I choose to live my life now, in this moment.”
The last words resonate with him, you can see it on his face.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you either.” His confession is hushed.
“Oh?” You try not to sound surprised, but your chest tightens as you wait for him to explain.
George walks across the boat and looks out at the hotel on the beach. He scans the horizon like his words are floating out there somewhere and he’s calling them home. That same roar of silence whooshes around your ears, but this time it’s not as frightening. You wait patiently for him to continue.
“So, remember when I told you that after Nancy died I packed up and moved down here to work on the boat?”
“Of course.” Your mind races. He’s not going to say he lied about being a widower, is he? That’s not something you’re sure you can forgive.
“Well, what I left out is that I used my life savings to buy part of this hotel. I do work here, technically. I mean, I do the cruises and all that. But not because I have to. Not because it puts food in my mouth. Just because I love it. I co-own this hotel. That’s the real way I make my living.”
“Wow, so you just take tourists out to sail because you like it? Even the spring breakers and complainers?”
“Yeah, to be honest, I’ve been considering dropping the side gig for a while now. I’m too old to be dealing with drunk, entitled customers who don’t appreciate the experience like I do. But, I love sharing this with people, and I’ve never had anyone special to take out each day… I mean, not until now.” He locks you into his blue gaze.
“Do you mean me?” You swallow hard, but your heart is still in your throat.
“Yes, of course I mean you.” He gives an easy laugh and you relax.
“You know how you said your life was turning gray?”
“Yeah.” Your mind flashes to what you left behind and your smile dries up.
“Well, out on the ocean, it’s the exact opposite. I remember feeling that way, like everything was dull and dreary. When I’m out there”—he nods to the open sea—“it’s like a Van Gogh painting. It’s so vibrant and swirling with colors and emotions. It’s the exact opposite of those shades of gray.”
“It sounds amazing,” you admit.
“I know this is crazy, but if you wanted to stay, or move down here, I could help you out. I’m not saying move in with me or anything”—he holds up his hands, trying to ease the shock that must be etched into your face—“but I’m not saying that wouldn’t ever happen either.”
“I’m not sure.” You have no idea what to say. This is so unexpected. “I, um, I need to think about it,” you stammer.
“Of course, in the meantime, I believe you booked a lunch cruise, didn’t you? I packed a nice picnic and am all ready to take you out, if you still want to go?”
You stand a little taller, bursting with life as you smile. “Absolutely.”
Epilogue
4 months later
You lie on the deck of Sea Sally and stare up at the crystal blue sky. A couple of white, fluffy clouds hang like tufts of cotton punctuating the bright blue. You can’t believe it’s already been three months of living here. Where did the time go? When you went back home to properly sell your place and resign from your job, that month crawled by painfully slow. Then, as soon as you got off the plane and back in George’s arms, it was like the clock started whirling the days and weeks and now months together in a blur.
A beautiful blur.
Can you believe you almost chickened out? When you went back, your friends were not very enthusiastic about your decision. A couple of them tried to make George sound like some kind of scammer, tricking you into moving so he could steal your money. Others made his intentions sound much worse. All that negativity was getting to you. Wearing you down. Stealing the color from your life.
When you had your meeting with your boss to let her know you intended to quit, you didn’t mean to break down into confused tears. She must have wondered what was going on with you. It’s just so hard when your reckless heart is telling you one thing but your cautious brain is telling you another. After handing you some tissues and getting the whole story out of you, Chelsea smiled at you. And not one of those pitying “Oh my God, how can she be so stupid” type smiles you’d been getting from your friends when you spilled your plans to them. No. She looked genuinely happy for you.
“So, you’re giving me your two weeks’ notice then?” she asked.
“I, um, I’m not sure,” you stammered.
“What’s the problem?” She seemed confused.
“I guess I might be getting cold feet.” You sighed. “It’s a big risk to take, isn’t it? I mean, am I crazy to give up everything like this and live there?”
“How about this?” She sat on the edge of her desk and looked you in the eyes, “Don’t give up everything. You’re not burning any bridges here. Rent out your house, get a property manager to do all the work for you and send you the money. Then you’ll always have some income. Then, if it doesn’t work out between you and…” She paused, waiting for you to fill in the blank name for her.
“George.”
“Right. George. If it doesn’t work out with George, come back. You’ll still have your house and, if you want it, you’ll always have this job too.”
“Really?” Your eyes welled up, but this time it was tears of joy.
“Really.” She gently clasped your hand. “If you think about it, you have much more to lose by not going than by giving it a shot.”
That convinced you. Taking Chelsea’s advice to heart, you found a property manager and a storage place for your things. The two weeks went by slowly at the office, but your boss let you slide out early most days, so that really helped. Next thing you knew, you were back on a plane, with a solid plan and a smile you couldn’t shake from your lips.
George brought you back to the hotel, to his hotel, and the two of you dined on steak and shrimp with too many cocktails and shut the restaurant down. Then you spent the rest of the night making sweet and passionate love, until your body was utterly exhausted and you fell asleep in his arms.
As you drifted off, he pulled you in close and whispered in your ear, “You have no idea how happy you make me.”
That was three months ago, almost to the day. And the two of you have been smiling like fools and fucking like jackrabbits ever since. Not that you’re complaining. Not in the least.
“Penny for your thoughts?” George snaps you back to reality and you lean up on your elbows and let your eyes lazily travel over him.
“Oh, I was just thinking I’m getting hot.” You smirk, knowing full well what he’ll suggest.
“You’ve got that right. I swear you get hotter every time I look at you,” he murmurs, studying your tanned body. Now that you spend your days in your secret hideaway spot down the coast with George, you get plenty of vitamin D. And not just the kind you get from the sun either.
“How about a little swim.” He nods to the turquoise sea, gently lapping at the white sand beach in the inlet you sail to every day.
It really does look like something you’d only see on a postcard. Do people still send those? You’re not sure. What you do know is this place is the picture of beauty. Hidden from tourists by tall, lush hills that jut down into the water and with a small, trickling waterfall that spills ice-cold water
over the cliff on the far side of the beach, it’s just magical in here. No wonder you and George keep coming back. It’s starting to feel like your own private part of the island. Always clear of tourists and never intruded on by locals.
“I’d like that.” You stand up and George walks across the boat to you. He wraps his hand around your back and pulls you in tight to him. His fingers yank the tie holding your bikini top shut and it scatters to the deck. “I think we’ll cool down a lot quicker if we’re naked,” he teases you.
Like you need an excuse.
You’re only too happy to shed your bottoms and watch how his cock dangles free between his legs as he steps out of his swim trunks. The two of you hold hands and walk to the back swim deck and feel the water kiss your toes as it splashes up over the edge.
“On three,” George calls out. “One, two, three!” You both jump into the sparkling surf and you can see him with his face puffed up with breath and his hair pushed up under the water. The two of you break the surface together and he flicks his wet hair back as you push yours free from your face.
George playfully splashes you and you give him a look, letting him know without a word that if he does that again he’ll pay the price. Not intimidated, he cups some more of the ocean water at you.
“That’s it!” You unleash a splash of fury on him, pounding the water in his direction until he gives up.
“All right, you win! Uncle!” he calls out from under the rain of waves.
“Don’t mess with me.” You smile triumphantly.
“No? Not at all? Not even like this?” George closes the space between you and pulls you tight against him. His cock grows rigid against you. Now it’s not just the ocean making you wet.
“Well, some exceptions can be made, of course.” You grin.
“Of course,” he whispers in your ear and sucks your earlobe into his mouth.
It’s like he hit a nerve of pleasure. Little tingles shiver through you, over you, into you.
Night Time Rendez-Vous: 3 sizzling novellas that will keep you up all night Page 5
