Good Girl

by Tricia O'Malley

  “Those seem pretty strong,” Samantha said.

  “You haven’t really had a vacation on an island if you don’t have one night where you drink too much rum punch,” Lucas teased.

  “Well, then, if I must,” Samantha laughed and accepted the drink. As the final rays of the sun shot into the sky, someone turned up the music and lit fire to a pile of sticks in the sand. Jolie was the first to begin dancing, confidently moving her body around the fire, dipping and swiveling, and even Samantha found herself crushing on her just a bit. Not that she was attracted to her or anything, but it was hard to look at anyone so beautiful and not have a bit of a crush.

  Soon others joined, and the music got louder. With no lights but the fire and the tiki torches and the moon up above, bodies bounced and turned, half in shadow, half in light, and flowed around the fire. Everyone was laughing, and partners swung to partners – women with women, men with men, it didn’t matter. At one point, Samantha even saw Pipin on his hind legs while Mirra held his paws and shimmied with him.

  “You ready to dance?” Lucas asked, tapping her now empty drink.

  “Oh yeah,” Samantha breathed, enamored with the carefree manner in which everyone flowed around the beach, laughing and swaying, embracing the ease of moving their bodies to the music.

  Lucas pulled her close, sliding one leg between hers as the music changed to a slower, sultry song, and Samantha felt pure need course through her. Dropping her head back, she looked up at the night sky and allowed Lucas to hold her, swiveling his hips against hers as he led her in time to the beat. It seemed to swarm around her, and within – the push of the music, the heat of his body against hers – and Samantha swayed against him, swinging her hips with abandon, as they circled in the sand, completely caught up in each other. By the time the song was over, they both were dripping in a film of sweat and need. Samantha pulled back to meet his eyes and Lucas took her mouth in one punishing kiss before releasing her.

  “Not yet,” Lucas gasped, and spun away to dance with a grandma who had come up and tweaked his bum with a laughing smile on her face.

  Sam buried her lust down and stepped back, only to have Mirra hook her arm and twirl her into a complicated series of steps. The hours passed by in a blur of dancing – everything from hip-hop to salsa moves, and a few embarrassing attempts at a limbo that Samantha would rather not think about. She laughed until she cried, danced until she’d all but sweated through her dress, and had more fun than she’d had at any other time in her life.

  Taking a break, she found her way to her bedroom to use the bathroom, then wandered back out toward the beach. Admittedly, she’d had more to drink than was usual for her, but she’d been having such a good time that she hadn’t thought much of it. Now she stood in the dark on the side of the villa, and watched everyone dance around the fire – telling jokes, having fun, and belonging together. As a community.

  As a family.

  The sadness slammed into her so hard that she actually stumbled before she turned away and took a different path down the darkness of the beach. This was what she’d wanted all along, Samantha realized, as tears filled her eyes and spilled in streams down her face. Everything she’d been working so hard for – her job, her family, to find love – it was because she just wanted to be accepted. And the saddest part of it all? All her hard work had been for nothing.

  Her co-workers weren’t her family, nor were they loyal to her. She’d been too busy to make any of her relationships work, let alone make new friends or try and meet new men after her disastrous engagement. Her family only supported her if she was a good girl and played by their rules. All of it had been because her heart so desperately craved what was happening on the beach right there this night. A family of friends who accepted each other for who they were and welcomed everyone into the fold, without judgment. It didn’t matter where people had come from or how they’d ended up on the island – all were welcome.

  Her life – everything she’d pursued thus far – was a joke.

  Chapter 33

  Samantha walked until she found a cluster of rocks near the water where she could curl up and stare out at the water for a moment. She’d have to go back to the party soon, as she’d be missed, but she wanted to take this moment to try and process all the feelings whirling around inside her that suddenly felt too big. It was like she’d spent years keeping them locked in a vault deep inside of her.

  The irony was that the one thing she’d been striving so hard for – the cushy CFO position – was exactly the key she’d needed to truly feel again, but it had been losing the position that was the key, not attaining it.

  And, as Lola would say, ain’t that a bitch?

  Samantha wiped her cheeks and worked on regulating her breathing, but there was no stopping the flow of tears that poured from her. All the stress – the pain of late nights, broken relationships, frustration with her family – came pouring out as she sobbed on the rocks, wrapping her arms around her legs and staring blindly out to the dark sea.

  She wanted to be Irma or Jolie or any number of the people on the beach – people who seemed so comfortable and sure of themselves. At ease with going with the flow, knowing that a friend was just a walk down the beach away. Or in Jolie’s case, a man to snuggle with was a catamaran ride away. She wanted that ease… that sense of belonging.

  No matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t going to get it from her family. After university she’d been so busy working long hours to work her way up in the company that she’d lost the few tenuous friendships she’d had, except for Lola. She didn’t just want to be loved, Sam realized, she wanted to give love, too. God, Lola had been right all along. What the hell was Sam working so hard for? She didn’t even have awesome travel experiences to pull out and pat herself on the back for – she’d been too timid to explore foreign cities alone in the few hours she’d had free on each work trip. So here she sat, nearing forty, with no life partner, an empty shell of a condo that barely felt like a home, a career that ultimately didn’t light her up inside, and an incredibly controlling family who refused to give her space to breathe and make her own mistakes. Samantha sighed. As she ran an exasperated hand through her hair, her fingers brushed the comb.

  Time to buck up, Samantha ordered herself, feeling a rush of pleasure at the touch of her comb. One of the reasons she didn’t typically allow herself to cry – aside from the fact she looked like a hot mess after – was that she didn’t find it productive to wallow in her issues. So she forced herself to do what she always did when things got a little too achy for her to deal with.

  “You’ve got a job a million people would die for. You get to travel. You have health insurance. A steady paycheck. Your health is good. Food on the table. An amazing best friend who is always there for your neurotic self. And your hair’s not too shabby either,” Samantha recited to herself. There, count your blessings and move on, she chided herself.

  Still, Samantha lingered a moment more, lost in the melancholy of the moment. Counting her blessings usually helped her move past her sad moments, but tonight she was really struggling. Was it so much to want to love? The drink must be making her sappy, Sam thought.

  A large flash of silver caught her eye, and Samantha caught her breath, wiping the tears away to strain her eyes in the darkness. There! Again, a flash of silver, and Sam blinked blurrily against the vision that seemed to form before her.

  Was that… a woman swimming far out in the ocean? Far past where they could reach her and help her, Sam thought, surging to her feet and hoping to see it once more. When a tail, far larger than a fish, flipped above the water and the woman dipped below the sea, Sam’s mouth dropped open.

  “No way…” Samantha breathed.

  Once more the woman surfaced, a tiny bit closer. A pulse of energy seemed to flow across the water, embracing Samantha and seeming to absorb the sadness that so ached in her soul. For a second, Samantha could have sworn the woman looked like Irma, but then she dipped once mor
e below the waters, her tail delivering one decisive splash before disappearing from sight.

  She stood, arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring wildly into the darkness of the ocean until a bark startled her away, and she turned to see Pipin racing across the sand to her.

  “Hey, buddy,” Samantha said, crouching to hug the delirious dog, who licked her face in delight. “You found me. Good boy.”

  “Samantha? What are you doing so far down here? We were worried,” Lucas said, approaching slowly, his hands in his pockets. When he drew close to her, he stopped and studied her face in the pale light of the moon. “You’ve been crying.”

  Of course, it wasn’t dark enough to hide what a mess she was, Samantha thought with a mental eyeroll. Then she nodded, looking away, hoping to see it – whatever it was she had seen – once again.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” Lucas asked, pulling her into his chest so that her arms automatically went around his waist. Despite herself, Sam immediately burst into tears again.

  “I wish I could be like that,” Samantha said.

  Lucas waited her out, clearly not wanting to interpret her drunken logic.

  “Just like the people on the beach. At ease with life. Coming together as friends and family. Knowing you’ve got people to rely upon. Having someone to love you just as you are. Just easy, you know? Everything in my life always feels clunky.”

  “Clunky?” Lucas asked, rubbing her back and gently guiding her back down the beach so she fell in step with him, his arm around her shoulder as they walked.

  “Yes, clunky. Nothing flows. I have to work so damn hard for everything, and I still never get what I want.”

  “Which is?”

  “People happy to see me,” Sam whispered, feeling the tears spike her eyes again at the truth of it. “Not a burden. Not an annoying co-worker. Not an unruly daughter. Just happy to be around me.”

  “I’m happy when I see you,” Lucas said, and Samantha felt the warmth spread through her, even though she suspected he was just being nice because he had his arms full of a weepy, tipsy woman.

  “You don’t really know me,” Samantha said. “But that’s sweet of you. I’m happy when I see you too.”

  “I think I see you more clearly than you see yourself,” Lucas said, and Samantha realized he had steered them up the beach to the patio of his house.

  “And what do you see?” Samantha whispered, looking up at his handsome face, standing so close she could see the moon mirrored in his eyes.

  “I see a beautiful woman who is finally taking a long hard look at her life and realizing that she wants something different. A woman who was strong enough to walk out on a job that didn’t treat her well – even if it was just for three weeks – and who is willing to take risks. I see a woman who is ready to take the training wheels off her life and ride on her own. It’s a magickal thing, this point in life you find yourself at, and I’m honored to be here for it.”

  Could he really see all that in her? All Samantha could see was a weepy sodden mess. But his words filled her with such warmth and a sliver of excitement. Could it be that easy? Was it possible to just change her life like that? One thing was for certain, she wanted to share some of this new-found Samantha with the man who stood before her. Now.

  In the bedroom.

  Surprising him, Samantha launched herself at Lucas, throwing him back a few steps as she wrapped her arms around him and locked her lips to his. Groaning, he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, carrying her with one arm through his door and down the long hallway to the master bedroom. She kept kissing him, ferocious with need, as he flipped on a low light beside the massive bed.

  “I want you,” Samantha gasped against his mouth. “So badly. Now, it has to be now.”

  “Samantha,” Lucas said into her mouth, pausing as she pulled her dress down in one movement, leaving it to puddle on the floor so that she stood before him, naked. The women were right about wearing no underwear, Samantha thought, sliding her hands into Lucas’s hair and pulling his head down for another kiss. He backed her against the bed, lifting her so that she lay back against the pillow. A rush of dizziness hit her – from the lust, Samantha assumed – and she trailed her hand down Lucas’s chest to try and unbuckle his belt. His hand stopped her.

  “But…” Samantha moaned. She was getting even more dizzy.

  “Sweet dreams, my mermaid. Just rest for now,” Lucas said, and Samantha was surprised to see Lucas, still fully clothed, pulling the sheets over her body. Dimly she reached out for him, but he circled around the bed, coming to lie on top of the sheet next to her, still fully clothed.

  “I want you,” Samantha whispered, meeting his eyes. “I have such feelings for you.”

  “And I for you,” Lucas said. “Just rest now, Sam. We’ll take care of you.” Lucas nodded to where Pipin had jumped on the foot of the bed and curled into a ball, putting his head on Sam’s feet. She was suddenly too tired to argue, and darkness claimed her.

  “She needs us, Pipin,” Lucas said, and dimmed the light.

  Chapter 34

  The bright light finally annoyed Samantha enough to prop her extremely heavy eyelids open. Looking up at a ceiling that was decidedly different than her room at the guesthouse, Samantha rolled quickly to the side.

  She was in Lucas’s bedroom. Specifically, in his bed. Lifting the sheet and seeing that she was butt naked, Samantha let out a little squeak of dismay and pulled a pillow over her head.

  Oh god, oh god, oh god, what did I do last night? Samantha racked her pounding head, trying to piece together all the rum-soaked images that flitted through her mind. Dancing, laughing… okay, that was good. Oh, nope, there was crying. Samantha sighed. She’d definitely drunk so much that she had a crying fit. Oh… and yup, she’d thrown herself at Lucas. Way to be a mature woman of the world, Samantha lectured herself as she pummeled the pillow on her face.

  “Please don’t smother yourself. Getting rid of a body isn’t as easy as it looks on TV,” Lucas said and Samantha groaned, peeking an eye out over the pillow.

  Of course the man looked like a million bucks. He’d probably gotten up, gone for a run, and filled all his friends in on the crazy drunk woman still sleeping in his bed. This is why she usually stuck to wine, Samantha lectured herself. Liquor was not a good thing for her.

  “Ha ha,” she said, burying her face back in the pillow. A headache banged none-too-nicely against her brain and she just wanted to sneak out the back door and find her own bed and never talk to anyone ever again. Ever.

  “Here, drink this,” Lucas said, tapping her on the arm. Samantha pulled the pillow back down and eyed the glass of tomato juice he was holding out. In his other hand, Advil.

  “Tomato juice?”

  “With a few extra secret ingredients. Take this, the Advil, and go have a shower in the ridiculously expensive rain shower I had installed and you’ll feel significantly better. I promise. It works for me.”

  Samantha sat up, clutching the sheet against her chest, still very aware that she was fully naked, and squinted at him.

  “I highly doubt you often get like this,” Samantha said, accepting the glass from him and holding it up to the light.

  “Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t an island vacation until you’ve had at least one night where you’ve had too much rum? It happens to the best of us. You can check it off your list now,” Lucas said, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting her knee. Samantha took the Advil and swallowed them down, along with the surprisingly tasty drink, and handed him back the empty glass.

  “Methinks you’re being too kind to me,” Samantha said.

  “Methinks you’re being too hard on yourself,” Lucas parried back, then gestured with the glass toward the bathroom door. “Go, shower. I put towels and a robe in there for you. Take as long as you need.” With that he strolled from the room, giving her some much-needed privacy. As soon as he was gone, Samantha scurried to the bathroom, sighing with delight when she
saw that he’d even put a toothbrush out for her. The man didn’t miss a trick, she thought, and stepped into the welcoming spray of the rainfall shower.

  As the water slid over her shoulders, Samantha bowed her head into the spray, leaning her arms against the wall of the shower, and closed her eyes. The rhythmic pelting of the water soothed the tension in her shoulders, and she gave herself permission to let it go. Opening her eyes, she watched as the water pooled at her feet in a swirl on the pebbled stone floor and then down the drain. She imagined her embarrassment over last night following the water down the drain and out to the ocean, swimming with the…

  Her head shot up.

  Had she really seen a mermaid last night? The thought brought a smile to her lips. Could it really be possible? Knowing she’d probably sound like a lunatic if she told anyone – at best, it would be chalked up to an overactive imagination spurred on by too much alcohol – Samantha touched her fingers to her lips.

  A secret then, just for her.

  Surprisingly, the ache in her head eased as she tried out some of Lucas’s minty soap and rinsed her body of the sweat and sand from a night spent dancing on the beach. When she was fully clean, Samantha toweled off, wrapping herself in the thin linen robe – which was way too big for her – and dried most of the wetness from her hair. Grateful for the toothbrush, as her teeth felt like they had a layer of sawdust on them, Samantha finished up.

  “Feeling better?” Lucas asked when she stepped back into the bedroom. He was leaning against the doorframe, looking like a relaxed beach bum in a loose t-shirt and faded cargo shorts.

  “So much better.” Samantha smiled at him, feeling just a bit shy in his robe, but grateful for the coverage nonetheless. “Your hangover cure really works.”

  Lucas crossed the room and cupped her chin in his hand, lifting her face so he could study it.