by R. R. Banks
He moves his grip down my wrist to my hand, and we take off running. I don't know if Charlene or the other women see me. I don't care if they do. We run until we get to a patch of lush landscaping and he pulls me into it. I'm laughing as we crouch down to the ground. We are in no way clandestine. If we were secret agents, we would be burned immediately. But his playfulness is infectious, and the feeling of his hand wrapped around mine makes me feel almost giddy. The combination is intoxicating, and I want to see where else it will carry me.
"Now that you've gotten away with kidnapping me, what are you going to do with me?" I ask.
Vincent eyes me, taking in the clothes I'm glad I had the compulsion to throw on this morning.
"Oh, I have something very special planned for you."
***
I draw in a shuddering breath and try to will my heartbeat to slow down.
"Vincent… I don't think I can do this," I say.
I feel the straps around my thighs tighten and an unseen hand tugs at the tether above me. I know that there's no way for me to get myself out of the ties. He would have to release me.
"Of course, you can. Just relax. You're going to enjoy it. I promise."
"I really don't know," I say. "This is all...too new to me. I don't know if I'm ready to jump in quite like this."
Adrenaline, fear, and anticipation course through me, battling it out to determine which emotion is going to take control.
"We've already talked about it. You're perfectly safe. You've been given your instructions. Just follow the rules and you'll be fine. This will change your life."
Vincent is in front of me, not at all bothered by the contraption that holds him. In fact, he seems completely comfortable.
"Are you ready?" the low, gravelly voice from behind me says.
I draw in another steeling breath and nod. A hand touches my back and starts to guide me forward. I let my feet shift and feel the edge of the platform before dropping over it. My scream tears out of me as the zipline shoots me through the thick tree canopy. It's unlike anything I have ever experienced. A new surge of adrenaline sends shocks to the tips of every finger and toe. The wind whips around me and I tilt my face into it, enjoying how it feels on my skin. I fling my arms open to my sides, and suddenly I'm upside down.
"Olivia!" Vincent shouts from the platform at the other end of the line.
He went first to show me how easy and fun it was. He, however, made the entire trip with his head pointing in the right direction. I try to pull myself up, but the force of my body sailing down the line is too much, so I give up and just let myself dangle. Finally, I feel the top of the wire hit the stopper, and I slowly spin around enough that I can see Vincent.
"I did it," I say.
"Are you alright?" he asks.
I spin lazily back in the other direction.
"I'm fine. I don't think I'm going to let go for the next one."
The attendant pulls me in and they help me to stand upright.
"That's probably a good choice," Vincent says.
He kisses me, and I wonder if my dizziness is from the dangling or from his kiss. We continue our way through the course, climbing, ziplining, and sliding through thick trees. It feels like we’re the only people on the island, employees excluded. Being upside down was enough of a shock that it seemed to dissipate my fear and soon I am laughing, racing Vincent to the obstacles, and throwing my arms around his neck for the kisses he gives me after each one we complete.
When we are finished with the course, we eat lunch in a tiny restaurant I never would have noticed if he hadn't shown it to me. It looks like someone's beach cottage and has only a few tables tucked inside, but it serves some of the most delicious food I’ve eaten the entire trip.
As we walk hand in hand together through the resort as evening falls around us, I feel like the day went by far too soon. I don't want to part ways with him. I don't want to go back to the bungalow with my ‘friends’ and face their questions. We are walking past some of the bungalows when I feel Vincent pull on my hand. I pause and look at him.
"What?" I ask.
He nods toward one of the buildings.
"This is me," he says.
"Oh," I say. "Um. Alright. I can get myself back to my bungalow. Goodnight."
I can't help but feel disappointed that he doesn't want to walk me back, but he gives a soft laugh.
"No," he says. "I want to invite you to come in."
I glance over his shoulder at the bungalow again, hesitating. I'm not sure what to do. I feel torn and struggle with what my next move should be. As much as I want to continue spending time with Vincent, I've never been in this position before. He reaches for my other hand and I know I can't leave him yet. I nod. He smiles at me and we walk into the bungalow. While still luxurious, it is much smaller than the one my friends and I are staying in. With a somewhat condensed living area, tiny kitchenette toward the back, and just one bedroom to the side, it was obviously designed for a single person or a couple.
"Can I get you something to drink? I have some fresh juice that's really amazing, or some water?"
"Coffee?"
"I don't drink decaf," he says.
I eye him.
"Neither do I."
Vincent smiles and gives a single nod before heading into the kitchenette to start the coffeemaker. It is similar to the one I have sitting on the kitchen counter at home. It makes either a single cup or a whole carafe and I notice Vincent has it programmed to make the full carafe. He glances over his shoulder at me as he fills the reservoir.
"Cream and sugar?"
"Black. I only drink coffee with cream during the fall."
"Pumpkin creamer?"
"Yes."
He laughs.
"Of course, you do."
I make a mock offended sound.
"I've been adding pumpkin pie spice to my coffee since before it was trendy, thank you very much."
"Oh, really?" he says. "Did you do a lot of coffee drinking when you were five?"
I cock my hip, trying to come up with a witty response, but can't think of anything.
"I just really like pumpkin spice, OK?" I say, trying to sound indignant, but laughing.
Vincent laughs and walks toward me, holding out a mug off rich-smelling coffee. I accept it and take a long sip. I always joke that coffee is my one vice. No matter the weather, I will always go for a hot cup of coffee.
"Fair enough." He takes a sip from his own mug. "Did you have fun today?" he asks.
He starts toward the sofa and I follow him. We settle a few inches apart and I turn my body slightly to face him.
"I did," I say. "It was definitely a new experience, but I got it eventually." We both laugh, and I glance down into my coffee mug. "It made me think of my grandmother."
"Your grandmother?"
I look up at Vincent. I feel like the words just came out of me without me even thinking about them.
"Oh...yeah. Gigi." I pause, struggling to find a way to describe my grandmother, "She's one of those people you kind of have to know. Apparently, she has quieted down a lot since her younger days but that doesn't mean she's calm. A lot of people say she has issues. That we should put her in a home."
"But you aren't going to do that because where you come from people keep their crazy people out on the front porch for everyone to visit."
He didn't say it as a question, but as an observation, something that sounds familiar. I laugh.
"You definitely have spent time in Virginia," I say.
"I told you. I've spent time everywhere."
He meets my eyes and my breath catches in my throat. Vincent places his mug on the table in front of the couch and slides closer to me. He takes my mug and puts it next to his before cupping my cheek in his powerful hand. His thumb strokes across my cheekbone just like it did the night before as he seems to search my eyes. Finally, he dips forward and kisses me. Our mouths press together, and I feel him ease closer. His hand touches my
waist and slides around to my lower back, pulling me close. The tip of his tongue brushes against my lips. Cautiously I part them and allow him into my mouth. His tongue gently massages against mine as the kiss deepens and intensifies. Suddenly I realize the pressure of his body is easing me back onto the couch. Lights flash in my head and I press my hands to his chest to stop him.
"What's wrong?" he asks as I break our kiss.
I try to catch my breath and smooth my clothes, staring down at my lap in hopes that he won't notice the burning color on my cheeks.
"I think I should head back to my bungalow now," I say.
I get to my feet and start toward the door, but I feel Vincent's hand wrap around my wrist to stop me. Turning around to face him, I can't bring myself to meet his eyes. His finger tucks under my chin and he lifts my head so that I have to look at him.
"What's going on?" he asks.
I hesitate. How am I supposed to tell him this? As hard and fast as I am falling for him, Vincent is still virtually a stranger to me. I never expected to be in this situation. I don’t know how to handle it.
"I don't think we should see each other again," I say.
My throat hurts even as I say those nine little words. I don't want to walk away from him right now, much less never see him again.
"Why?" Vincent asks. "Did I do something wrong?"
I shake my head.
"No," I say. "You didn't do anything. I just…" I take a breath. I have to be honest with him. "I've never done this before."
A look of confusion flickers across his face, then he seems to have a moment of realization.
"You've never…"
"Yeah. I'm a virgin."
I wait for him to recoil, to look at me with pity or disgust. The only other time I've said this to a man was a date I went on after my one and only serious relationship ended. I had known him for many years, but after our date ended with that statement, he looked at me like I was a completely different person. Vincent thinks about this for only a brief second.
"So why don't you think we should see each other again?"
I blink at him.
"I just assumed…"
"Olivia, I'm sorry if you feel like I was pushing you."
"No," I say, shaking my head. "But I know…"
My voice trails off.
"That doesn't change the fact that I want to spend time with you," he says. "I had an amazing time with you today. There's so much more of the island I want you to experience, if you'll still go with me."
Smiling, I nod and take his other hand.
"I would really love that," I say.
"Good. Can I kiss you now?"
"Please."
He brushes a soft kiss against my lips.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"You told me you had a serious boyfriend."
I had mentioned it while we got to know each other during our day together. He hasn't really asked a question, but I understand the implication.
"Yes. We were together for three years. It was a very chaste, traditional courtship, though. We went to social events together. Had dinner with each other's family. Our alone time was sitting on the porch swing in the evenings or sometimes in the car driving from place to place. It was all very structured."
I can tell that he wants to ask more, but I really don't want to talk about it. I silently sigh with relief when he changes the subject.
"Will you stay for a little longer, or do you want me to walk you back?"
"I'll stay," I say without hesitation.
Vincent smiles and we walk back to the couch, sitting close beside each other. I tuck my head into the curve of his shoulder and neck. My body relaxes against him as I breathe in the rich, warm smell of him. I never want to leave.
Chapter Nine
Vincent
Olivia is a virgin? How is that even possible? I knew she looked sweet and innocent from the moment I first saw her, but it never crossed my mind that she could actually be that sweet and innocent. I can barely remember when I lost my own virginity.
It was awkward, uncomfortable, sticky, and lasted an embarrassingly short amount of time. My partner was definitely not a virgin either. In fact, she was the daughter of one of my father’s clients. All summer she had given me the eye, watching me in the pool or playing basketball behind the house. It came to a head when she asked me to come over while her parents were out of town. My hormone-addled teenage mind didn't even think about why.
As I think about my experience, I can't imagine Olivia going through an experience like that. She deserves to be treasured. Worshipped. I have never been the type of man who thought that way. It never occurred to me that the women I met at my properties may not be as experienced as I was. None had pushed back or resisted before. Sometimes they play hard to get, teasing me, thinking it makes them more appealing. The second my attention lapsed, however, they are more than willing to comply.
My reaction to Olivia was automatic, something I didn't even think about. It came out of my mouth without a thought, and I was as surprised by it as she was. She pushed back against me and I chased her. Her resistance was a challenge and I wanted to prove I could capture her attention, bring her into my arms. Now there's a significant obstacle in front of me, and she was trying to give me an out. She was going to walk away and release me from any obligation I might have felt toward her. I could have taken it and found someone else, but I didn't. I’m not acting like my usual self. This is not something I would have ever envisioned myself doing, yet here I am.
Two days later, I have another plan for her. She's grinning as we make our way along the dock and I notice her skip a little.
"Are you excited?" I ask.
She nods enthusiastically.
"I'm so excited I could do a cartwheel if it wouldn't look so undignified in front of all these people."
"You should do it anyway. Who cares what they think? You've got to live your life and not worry about what other people think or expect from you. Especially a bunch of people you don't know or care about."
She looks at me with a glint in her eye and drops my hand. She laughs as she does a series of cartwheels down the dock, then hops up and looks at me. Her cheeks are high with color and I know that is something she never would have done at home. It’s not the societal norm for women to do cartwheels in public. But that's exactly why I love that she did it.
"How about you?" she asks as I approach.
"I couldn't do a cartwheel if two other people were holding my arms and legs."
She laughs and shakes her head.
"I meant are you excited?"
"Oh. Yeah. I've never done this. It should be fun."
We get to the end of the dock and meet with the guide I arranged to bring us on a swim with dolphins. Olivia is bouncing with excitement as we listen to the instructions the guide gives us before directing us to where we can change into the wetsuits. I watch Olivia as she takes off her sundress to reveal the cotton candy bathing suit she had on the first time I saw her. It makes my stomach clench and my mouth water, but I force myself to keep my mouth closed. The wetsuit accentuates her curves but hides her skin. I don't know if that's helpful or not. It keeps me from wanting to reach out and run my fingertips along the creamy stretch of her thighs or the slight swell of her breasts, but it also makes me want to peel away the suit to discover the treasure waiting underneath.
I can't take my eyes away from Olivia as she delights in the dolphins gliding around in the water with her. One swims up to her, and she leans down to kiss their nose. They seem as thrilled by her attention as she is to give it to them, and I can't blame them. Swimming up to her, I wrap an arm around her waist and kiss her. A dolphin nudges me and Olivia looks down at it, laughing.
"Uh-oh. I think you made someone jealous," she says.
"Back off, buddy," I say to the dolphin. "The next few kisses are mine."
Olivia smiles and wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her body
to mine so that her breasts crush against my chest and I can feel her breathing. I love when she does that. It makes me feel strong like she feels safe in my arms.
"Are you in the mood for anything specific for dinner?" I ask.
She looks at me regretfully.
"I can't have dinner with you. I told the girls that I would be back this afternoon and we could have dinner together. There's a restaurant that Melanie wants to try."
"Melanie," I say, trying to remember which of the women she was talking about. "Which one is that?"
"Charlene's cousin."
"The one with the three daughters and four horses?"
"Yes."
I liked piecing together the details she had given me about the women who traveled with her. It was like a really specific trivia game.
"And Alma and Urma are the twins."
"Who hate their parents for their names," she said, nodding.
"And tried to rebel by changing them to Mandi and Candi."
"Which lasted for two weeks before the Junior League called them in for an intervention."
"You have some interesting friends, Miss Olivia."
"Alcott."
"What?"
"Alcott. It's my name. Miss Olivia Maureen Alcott."
I don't know why she is offering me her full name, but something about it sounds familiar. It sticks in the back of my mind and won't budge. I don't know when or why, but I know that I have heard that last name before. But where?
Charlene
My arms are crossed over my chest, my jaw snapped so tight it hurts, as I watch Olivia. She accepts the towel being offered to her and uses it to rub her dark, tangled locks dry. A smile comes to her lips as she hands the towel to Vincent and he leans down to kiss her, taking it from her hands. So, this is where she has been spending so much time the last few days. She's been swimming with dolphins and cozying up to Vincent. She always has a vague excuse when she dips out of the bungalow or disappears during our poolside lounge sessions. Each time she conveniently leaves out that Vincent is waiting for her. She's going for a walk. She wants to do a little exploring.
