Chasing Clouds

by Kathryn Andrews

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask her.

  Her head turns and her eyes find mine. They’re clear, they look content, and they crinkle in the corners a little as a small smile makes its way across her face.

  “How this feels like what a honeymoon should feel like,” she says softly, her cheeks getting slightly pink.

  My heart thumps hard in my chest, and I can’t think of anything to say back to her. She blinks twice, her smile wavers a bit, and then she resumes looking out the window, whereas I can’t stop looking at her, can’t stop feeling an intensity toward her—about us—that I never imagined was possible. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so much time with her recently, maybe it’s where we’ve now found ourselves, or maybe it’s just her—and that’s what concerns me the most. I’m not supposed to be falling for my fake wife.

  “Evening, y’all,” the older woman says as she approaches our table. “I was wondering if you would drop in tonight or one day later in the week.”

  I look her over from head to toe. She looks like an aunt everyone loves, but that doesn’t keep the red flags from rising right and left. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?” There’s a warning tone to my voice, and it only makes her smile bigger.

  “You’re Reid and Camille, right? Ali and Drew’s friends.”

  I glance at Camille, who is staring at the woman and answers for us. “We are.”

  “Perfect! I’m so glad you’re here. I’m Ella. Drew called earlier to tell me you might stop by and to keep an eye out. I just love those kids. Those Hale boys own a piece of my heart, so anything you need while you’re visiting, I’m here for you both.”

  She hands us a couple of menus, recites the daily specials, and walks off before I even have a chance to thank her. Camille is quiet as she reads the menu then puts it down.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened this morning?” I ask.

  Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. “No. He caught me off guard, but that won’t happen again.” She looks back out the window and frowns, fingering the menu. “I know you probably don’t understand any of this, and I’m sorry, but I do plan on taking care of this situation, and soon. I needed the last couple of weeks to come to terms with how I’m going to handle my life now, what I’m going to do next. Don’t get me wrong—I’m really excited. It’s what I’ve secretly dreamed about, but it’s been such a sudden change in direction for me, and I’m trying to get my brain to catch up with my movements. Does that make sense?”

  “It does, and don’t be sorry. Anything I can do to help you?” I ask, leaning forward and picking up her hand to play with her fingers.

  “I think you’ve done enough already, don’t you?” Her voice is low, soft, but her eyes lock onto mine and I can’t look away.

  “I can always do more.” I really mean that.

  She rolls her bottom lip in between her teeth and bites down. Memories of last night and me doing the same thing to her flash through my mind, and I suddenly have the urge to pull her across the table and kiss her.

  “All right you two.” Ella is back, and I pull my hand away. She takes our order, drops two glasses of water, and is on her way.

  “I think, for however long we’re here, I just want this to feel like a vacation—a well-earned one,” she states. “How about you?”

  Shifting, I lean back and stretch my legs out until my feet bump the legs of her chair. “I’m down for that. I can’t remember the last time I took a real vacation, if ever.”

  “Not even for spring break in college?” She moves and crosses her legs, giving me more room under the tiny table.

  “Nope, not even then. I always went home to see my mom and Nate.” Looking out the window, I see the sun has started to dip below the water line, and I tell her, “I’ve never seen a sunset before.”

  “What? How is that possible?” she asks, looking between me and the sunset.

  “Grew up on the East Coast. I’ve seen plenty of sunrises, but nothing like this.”

  “You’ve been in Tampa for how long and you’ve never watched a sunset?”

  “I’ve only been here for a year. I was drafted out of college to the Washington Wolves, and before you say, ‘But they’re on the West Coast,’ it’s just different. We get up so early for practice, and I’m tired at night. It was overcast all the time, and it wasn’t something I’ve ever thought about doing. Not once have I ever said to myself, ‘Today I’m going to invite my teammates to take a trip to the beach with me to watch the sunset.’”

  She giggles. “You could have invited a girl.”

  “That’s a hard no. Inviting a girl to do that definitely gives them the wrong impression, and I don’t have time to deal with that mess.”

  “I get it. How long were you there?”

  “I played with them for three years and then got traded to the Tarpons. I just signed a five-year contract with them.” I can’t help the smile that overtakes me. I really am proud of that contract. I’ve worked hard to earn my place on a team.

  “Reid, that’s great! You must be so excited.” Her face lights up, and pride washes through me.

  “Yeah, I am excited. I really do like it here in Florida. The team has a vision and goals that align with mine, what I would like for my career, and I don’t think I could be at a better place. Knock on wood, right?”

  She knocks on the table then we both watch as the sun disappears, leaving behind a faint glow.

  After dinner, we make our way back to the house hand in hand. While we’re unloading the car, I look around and spot a teenage boy across the street, leaning against his porch railing and eyeing us like we’re breaking and entering. His posture is crazy tense, his arms are crossed over his chest, and his glare looks downright vicious. I chuckle to myself, thinking he must be friends with Drew and Beau too.

  THIS BEACH HOUSE is a vacationer’s dream home. In fact, I think it could be anyone’s dream home, even if they don’t love the beach. As many times as Ali has talked about this place, it never occurred to me that she was leaving this behind. Tall spacious ceilings, large oversized comfortable pieces of furniture, lots of windows, and a kitchen that’s open to the living room, creating a great room. On the bottom level there’s a guest room, and upstairs there are two bedrooms, one being Drew and Ali’s and the other more of an office and storage room.

  We decided the guest room downstairs was the best room for us, and that was that. We never talked about sleeping separate, and he never mentioned taking the couch to give me space; we just climbed into bed together like we’ve been doing it for years instead of since just yesterday. We fell asleep snuggled up next to each other, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  Sunlight has just started to peek its way into the room when he stirs. Slowly, his warm hand slides over my waist, across my stomach, and he pulls me back against his bare chest. He curls around me, wrapping me up tight, and a sigh escapes me. I could get used to this. We stay this way for about ten minutes, and I’m just about to drift back to sleep when he kisses my shoulder, runs his hand over my hip and across my thigh, and then slips out of the bed. My back instantly cools, missing him.

  Instead of heading to the bathroom, he grabs his bag, puts it on the edge of the bed, and starts digging through it.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up, knowing I look like a hot mess.

  “I need to work out.”

  My gaze skims over the muscles in his arms, chest, and stomach. His dark hair is sticking up everywhere, and he’s standing in front of me in just a pair of boxer briefs. My mouth goes dry as I take all of him in.

  “Now?”

  He smirks at me. “I’ll be back in an hour or two, and then we can make some plans for while we’re here. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds good, but where are you going?” I lean back against the headboard and fold my legs up in front of me.

  “Just outside. I can go for a run and then do some body weight exercises in the back yard. Later today I’ll lo
ok for a gym to hit up while we’re here.”

  “Can I watch?” I’m teasing him, but his head pops up and he looks at me—like really looks at me.

  The sheet is around my waist, and I’m wearing just a tank top and a pair of underwear. His eyes drift over my hair, my face, my shoulders, my chest, and down to my hips. It feels good to have his eyes on me, so I do the same to him. Those boxer briefs hug every muscle and indentation perfectly.

  Tearing his gaze away, he groans, “Probably best if you don’t, princess.”

  I smile at his blatant struggle with self-control, and as I slide back under the covers, he slips on a pair of workout shorts, a T-shirt, and his running shoes. He goes into the bathroom but leaves the door cracked. I listen as he brushes his teeth and gets ready to go. I can’t help but wonder when we got so comfortable with each other that it’s not even a big deal to leave the bathroom door open. Maybe we’ve been this way from day one and I just didn’t realize it. Maybe I like us this way just a little too much.

  Walking back into the room, he comes to stand next to the bed.

  “You good while I’m out?” He runs his fingers along the length of my arm.

  “Yep.” I want to beg him to come back quickly—or better yet, stay—but that’s ridiculous. We’ve been spending so much time together as it is, and he probably needs some to himself. So, I just smile, and he smiles back before he’s out the bedroom door.

  Letting out a deep sigh, my eyes wander over to the clothes he kicked off last night, to his bag, which he’s placed on the overstuffed chair in the corner. I feel guilty that we’re here; I feel guilty about so many things. He really had no idea what he was signing up for when he agreed to this, and I can’t help but wonder what he thinks about it all, if he regrets it.

  I can see how most anyone would think we’re running from him, from them, and I guess technically we are, but it’s hard to explain why to someone who hasn’t gone through years of what I have. I’m not afraid of Patrick, and I’m not afraid of my father. They aren’t violent people, just manipulative, and whether they like it or not, they’re going to have to live with who I am and who I want to be, or they can live without me.

  Wandering down to the kitchen, I pause, as right there in the middle of the island is another paper plane. It’s different from the first one he gave me, but it looks equally complicated in the way it’s folded, and I love it just as much. I’m touched that he wanted to give me something. Picking it up, I cautiously bring it to my chest and hug it. It’s so simple, but coming from him, it means the world.

  Smelling the coffee Reid thought to brew before he left, I pour myself a cup, retrieve my airplane, and find my way to the deck on the second level. There are two, one off of a loft area between the bedrooms, and one off of Ali’s room. From here, I can see over the small dunes and down to the water. The beach is quiet, the water calm and flat. Other than a few people jogging up and down, it’s relatively empty, and I really like it. This was the perfect place to come, and I know by the time we leave here, I’ll be ready to move on to the next chapter of my life.

  About an hour later, the front door opens and Reid calls my name.

  “Up here, on the deck.”

  I hear him banging around in the kitchen and then he thunders up the stairs, taking two at a time. Plopping down in the lounge chair next to me, he guzzles a large glass of water.

  “What?” He eyes me over the rim as I stare.

  “What do you mean, what? It’s not fair that you look like this”—I wave my hand at him—“after working out like you just did.” His hair is wet, his skin is all dewy, his shirt is plastered to his chest, and I swear his muscles look bigger than they did before he left. He looks so good I feel awkward sitting next to him.

  He shoots me a cocky grin and I roll my eyes.

  “I see you found your plane.” He eyes it sitting on the little table next to me.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Well, I can’t really have you calling this a honeymoon without giving you something to remember it by,” he says, slightly sheepish.

  His thoughtfulness has my heart fluttering. I pick it up and put it on my lap.

  “I love it, I really do.”

  He gives me a closed-mouth smile, green eyes bright, and runs his hand through his hair.

  “How about I take a shower, we get dressed, and then we head off the island to a big box store and pick up things we might need?”

  “Like food?” I grin at him.

  “Always food.” He smirks back. “But I was thinking more like sunblock and maybe a new hat for you. I like your skin the way it is. If it turns pink, it needs to be because of me.”

  A blush burns through my cheeks at his words and he lights up.

  “Kind of like that,” he states, all pleased with himself as he leans over and runs his finger down the side of my face.

  “Well, if I’m getting a hat then so are you—a big one to cover that big head of yours. Also, it’ll help to disguise you from all your adoring fans.”

  “I don’t have adoring fans.” He looks at me like I’m crazy.

  “Seriously? Have you been on social media? There are at least a dozen fan-made Instagram pages dedicated just to you, and your hashtags are out of control.”

  “Really?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “You think I’m making this up?”

  A loud laugh bursts out and his eyes crinkle as he smiles. “Fine. Deal.”

  We arrive at the store midmorning. It’s Monday, so it isn’t that crowded, which I’m grateful for.

  “So, how do you want to do this? Shop together or divide and conquer?” I ask him.

  He rubs his chin as he looks around, and then his eyes jump with excitement.

  “I think we make a wager.” He smirks down at me then moves to get two shopping carts. There’s an older lady at the door checking receipts for return items, and her eyes track him. When he nods at her, she smiles hugely. Can’t say I blame you, lady. I smile at him too.

  “On what?” I ask as he pushes one in front of me.

  “Who can find the best disguise,” he states as if this is the best idea ever.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, it’ll be fun.” The way his face is lit up at the idea, he looks like a little kid in a grown man’s body.

  “Okay,” I say, placing my hands on my hips. “What do I get when I win?” I tease.

  “You mean what do I get when I win—you’ll cook me dinner, of course.” He swats me on the butt and takes off. “I’ll find you in fifteen.” And then he’s gone.

  Of course he makes this a game; the man lives to play games. It’s in his nature to be competitive, and I find this endearing about him—really endearing.

  Racing around the store, I zip between the racks and start throwing random things into my cart, like pullover muumuu dresses, big sunglasses, and a beach chair with an umbrella. I’m not really sure how much of a disguise I can find given that we’re going to be sitting on the beach, but I grab two more large sun hats, two new bikinis, and some sunblock.

  Ten minutes later, I spot him in the men’s department, and I can’t help but laugh. He’s got on a massive straw fisherman hat, a really ugly Hawaiian print shirt, a T-shirt for a rival football team underneath, sunglasses with multicolored tinted lenses, and a large donut floatie around his waist.

  “You look ridiculous.”

  Hearing my voice, he turns and gives me his megawatt smile.

  “And you look gorgeous, as always.” All my items are in the cart; I’m wearing my normal attire of shorts and a tank top. His eyes linger on my chest before his lips slowly curve up and his eyes climb to mine.

  “You know, now that I think about it, I’m not sure you’re disguisable. I don’t think it matters what you wear—you were born to stand out.”

  He pulls the sunglasses off and tucks them in the collar of his shirt. The expression on his face is calm, his eyes tender as he looks down at me. Without sa
ying anything, he reaches for my waist, pulls me against him, and dips his head to kiss me on the corner of my mouth. It’s just a ghost of a kiss, but it shoots rockets off in my heart and I grab his arms to steady myself.

  “What was that for?” I ask him.

  “Sometimes I just feel the urge to kiss you, so I’ve decided I’m going to from now on. That okay with you?” He pulls back, the lines around his eyes and mouth happy.

  “Yes.” I’m lost in the adoration I feel for him.

  “Good.” He steps back, looking pleased under that big hat on his head. “How about you move your stuff to my cart and we’ll use one?”

  “Okay.” I move to grab my things and toss them in then freeze. “What’s that?” I point at the lone item in his cart.

  “Those are for you.” He grins, and I think my heart doubles in size. There in the middle of his cart is a giant bag of gummy bears. “Well, don’t just stand there—put your things in.”

  I toss my items in, and he does the same, shedding all the new items he’s acquired, and then he looks from me to them to me. “Actually, why don’t you get your tiny ass in the cart and let me push you around, too.”

  Push me around? I don’t think I’ve ever ridden in a cart, not even when I was a kid, and excitement blooms in my chest. It’s silly. It’s carefree. It’s something I would have never done before, and it sounds like lots of fun.

  “Okay, but you have to promise to be careful and not tip it over.” I move to climb on the end and then swing my leg over. He helps me in so I don’t fall, and the cart stays still.

  “Camille, I’m not going to race you around the parking lot.”

  “I didn’t say you were. Ugh, whatever.” I shift and cross my legs so I’m leaning against the back with all our stuff in the front. Grabbing his hat, I slip it on then look up and catch him taking a photo of me.

  “What are you doing?” I’m kind of shocked.

  “Documenting our trip. Who knows when I’ll have another one?”

  “Okay, well, come down here and let’s take one together, and then you have to share them with me.”

  “You know I will.” He moves the hat from my head to his then drops down next to me for a selfie, or should I say an us-ie. The body wash from his shower wafts over me, and he smells so good. I smile as he holds out his long arm and takes the photo. I love that he wants photos of us. I want them too.