by Dylan Allen
We all mumble apologies, and I turn back to watch the door.
When I woke, there was a note that read, “See you at brunch,” on the pillow where her head should have been.
I was confused until I got here and saw her name on one of the place cards. Confidence was bursting with excitement as she told me how they’d run into her and that Hayes went up to invite her this morning. My stomach clenched so hard I thought I’d be sick.
He came to her room this morning?
I glance at Hayes and he smiles briefly and turns his attention back to Gigi. He’s been nothing but relaxed and hasn’t mentioned her, or our conversation, at all. But Hayes is the master of hiding his emotions, so that doesn’t make me feel any better.
“Oh, my damn … Regan Landel is here?” Beau asks in an overly interested voice. I turn to him and follow his rapt gaze to the entrance that leads in from the beach.
The version of Regan that strides into the dining room is one I’ve never seen in person.
Her hair is blown straight and shines like polished sable when she moves. Her skin glows with something more than the sun kissed warmth I got used to seeing at the beach.
She’s dressed in an all-white floor length dress that was made to be worn by her. Two diamond shaped pieces of fabric cover each of her plump breasts, drape over her shoulders and meet at the nape of her neck in an oversized bow that sits on her left shoulder.
The deep “v” created by the scant bodice exposes the long column of her throat and the smooth, sun browned valley of skin between her breasts all the way to right above her belly button. The skirt has twin slits that reveal her legs from toe to damn near the top of her hip with every step she takes in her blush pink, open toe shoes. The heels are needle thin and so high that her lithe and graceful frame is nearly as tall as I am.
Beau lets out a low whistle of appreciation and I grit my teeth. “You know I’d never even think about touching another woman, but she is fucking hot, man. Even her toes are perfect. God, I wish I was a billionaire. I’d lay it at her feet for just one night of—"
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I snap, uncaring that I sound like a fucking cave man.
Beau looks at me askance and then bursts out laughing. “Ohhh, I forgot you had a thing for her.”
“I was ten,” I snap and look back at my phone. And what I felt then is a mere star, compared to the galaxy of emotions that make up the thing I have for her now.
“Was she always a looker?” Beau asks never taking his hungry eyes from Regan. I want to tell him she’s mine. That he can’t look at her like that.
Instead, I nod. “Always.”
“Hey guys, does everyone know Regan Landel? Her family founded Rivers Wilde and her twin brother is a friend of both of ours.” Confidence, her eyes bright as Regan approaches.
Hayes is glaring at me with a warning in his expression. I don’t know what came over me yesterday. I know better. If there’s one thing Hayes isn’t good at, it’s minding his own business.
“Well, now I know why Landel never lets her out of his sight. And why he’s so damn possessive. I heard some guy lost a finger for dancing too close to his ‘crown jewel’ at a fundraiser.”
I roll my eyes but inwardly my insides feel like water. “He’s a publisher, not a gangster and if she’s his crown jewel, why is she here without him?”
Beau scoffs and smirks conspiratorially. “I’ve heard his family’s publishing and real estate is just a front for other stuff.”
By “he’s heard,” he means Cadence told him. That woman has a talent for curating and aggregating gossip that seems to far outweigh her talent for anything else.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve got reliable insider info, but given that I’ve spent the last year living in a city where corruption and crime are a way of life for most people, I can tell you the wives of men who are really involved with the cartels don’t travel through Mexico alone.”
“Okay, well, you go ahead and think that, and I’m going to get a tequila sunrise and enjoy the suddenly much improved view.”
Goodbye
Regan
Confidence looks as fresh as a daisy and radiates with happiness. I let down some of my reserve to give her a genuine hug of congratulations. Hayes got an air kiss. When she got to Stone, my inflection and expression were exactly the same with him, as they were with everyone else, she introduced me to.
She sat me across from him, in between Dare and her best friend, Cass.
Cass has been preoccupied with her date. Dare has been preoccupied with his phone. And Stone has been preoccupied with glaring at me.
I haven’t looked at him properly since I walked in, and it’s killing me. I miss him. The days we spent together were amazing. We took pictures, posed like a couple, held hands as we toured ruins, fucked in the ocean, and for a brief moment, I forgot who I was.
But Hayes’ visit sobered me up really quick. This brunch is exactly what we both need. A reminder of what life would really be like if we were to try to take this beyond this trip.
Confidence’s mother finishes her speech, and I can’t take another second of Stone’s glaring.
I surge to my feet and turn an apologetic smile toward the newlyweds.
“I hate to cut into your speeches, but my car is leaving for the airport soon.” I can feel Stone’s body tense. But I still don’t dare look at him.
“Before I go, I want to wish the happy couple well. Marriage shouldn’t be hard. People who say that are crazy. It should be easy and fun and loving and safe. Anything less than that, you’re in for a lifetime of misery, divorce, or jail.” A small ripple of laughter surprises me. “I’m not joking. Discovery ID wouldn’t have more than two hours of programming, if it weren’t for all the wives and husbands who try to kill each other.”
Confidence gasps, and someone clears their throat. I grimace in apology. “Not that you’re in any danger of that. You two are clearly very much in love.” I smile at them both, letting the sincere warmth I feel for her show. “Focus on that.”
Hayes’ jaw tightens, but his expression is as civil as mine.
“You’re lucky to have found each other. Most people never get the timing quite right.”
That is when I look at Stone. His expression is grave, and his eyes are wide with an emotion I can’t name, but it makes me want to cry. I hate leaving like this, but it’s for the best.
I turn back to the happy couple and raise my glass. “Congratulations. Cheers to forever.”
“Welcome Mrs. Landel. Please make yourself comfortable,” the woman whose name tag reads “Paulina” greets me, as I walk into the lounge for private charters. I walked out of Pacifico and got straight into the waiting car that brought me to the airport.
Time to head back to my real life, and there was no point in dragging it out because I wanted one more night of feeling good.
My feelings won’t change anything, and one more night will just make the inevitable even harder.
I pluck a bottle of water from the table, where an assortment of bottled drinks are nestled in a silver ice bucket, and gulp half of it down, before I drop my sore, soul weary, self into one of the winged armchairs. I free my feet from the heels that, after a week of sandals and bare feet, feel like torture devices, and slip on the flip flops in my tote.
I pull out my phone and check my messages. The first one is from Tyson.
“Oh hey, I forgot. Did you see Stone? I was supposed to text and give you a heads up but got distracted. You need to call me, anyway. Busy here, but we’ll make time.”
“Just saw him this morning. Headed back. Call you soon.”
So typical of Tyson. He’s so disorganized and self-absorbed that I’m shocked he remembered to text at all.
I drop my phone in my bag and close my eyes. My head aches. I rub my temples and groan at the shiver of relief the caress brings.
“I could do that for you if you’d like.”
I sit up with a start and find myse
lf face to face with the owner of that silky baritone. Stone is standing in the doorway. He looks amazing in his blue linen pants and white linen shirt, the deep tan of his skin setting both off beautifully. But his expression is dark and brooding, and I can’t tell if he wants to strangle me or rip my clothes off.
My throat goes dry.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to say goodbye.”
He prowls toward me, his long legs eating up the ground between us. He drops into the seat next to me, rests his elbows on his knees and steeples his fingers under his chin, his eyes trained on the huge window that faces the tarmac.
“How’d you find me?” I ask.
If he hears me, he doesn’t give any sign of it. “Did you know the Transit of Venus happens just four times every 243 years? It’s the rarest of predictable astronomical phenomena. It’s how early astronomers mapped the heavens.”
I gape at him. “Uhhh. What?” I ask, genuinely confused.
“I’ve dated, had lovers---”
“This better be going somewhere good…” I mutter, irritated at the thought of him and lovers.
He sits up, turns to me, and takes my hands into his. His touch is heaven and hell, all at once. And even if I wanted to pull my hands free, his grip is so tight, I couldn’t.
“But before this last week, I’ve never really been in love.”
Panic and regret form a fist around my heart and squeeze. I clear my dry throat and shake my head. “But you said you didn’t want…”
“I know. But you’ve always been my game changer.”
I blink…and try to absorb everything he’s told me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I want to explore what’s happening between us,” he says, and I cover my mouth to muffle a scream. I dart around the room, not even sure what I’m looking for.
“Where is everyone?”
“On a break,” he says, batting my concern away like it’s an annoying fly.
“Did you pay them to leave us alone?” I gape at him.
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“So, I could make my Hail Mary.”
My heart feels like it’s being stretched in two different directions. The side that wants to say yes is pulling as hard as the side that knows I have to say to no.
“Stone, I have a lot to sort out. And…so do you.” I lick my dry lips and shudder when I remember Hayes and his knowing eyes… and the career Stone clearly loves that a scandal the size of what we’d cause could disrupt.
“What did my brother say to you when he came to the room? That’s what made you feel like this.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “How did you know?” I ask.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, instead of answering me.
“Because I didn’t want to cause a rift. I know how much you love them. And he didn’t say anything I didn’t already know,” I explain.
His jaw tightens, and he nods, the disappointment in his eyes is unbearable.
“I need to check…something.” I grab my bag and stand. I need to get out of here. I walk over to the deserted service desk and ring the bell.
“I told you, there’s no one here.” His voice comes from right behind me. My already frazzled nerves vibrate, and I yelp and spin around.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Stone.”
He grabs my wrists and yanks me to him, in a move that’s rough, but that ends with his sweet mouth on mine. He kisses me, and for a second, I kiss him back. How can I not? He tastes like heaven, and I want to kiss him forever. His mouth is hot and demanding and unyielding on mine. I revel in the cinnamon and chocolate on his breath. I breathe in lungfuls of the most delicious man I’ve ever tasted.
He cups my ass, and I cling to him, a mere handful of heartbeats away from begging him to please put himself inside me. I rally the last bits of my resolve and shove him away.
He looks bewildered, disheveled, and not even close to daunted.
I jump back and just manage to evade his attempt to grab me. I step behind the counter and glare at him. Angry at him and myself for the half of me that wants him to jump over the counter and kiss me again.
“I know you feel the same way,” he growls in frustration,
I gape, goggle-eyed at how savage his expression is. My heart thunders, not from fear, but from excitement. What is wrong with me?
“Less than a week ago, you told me you didn’t want anything more than sex. And now, you want me to throw away everything because you’ve changed your mind?” I demand.
“No, I want you to choose a life you actually want. And I want you to let me be part of it.” His eyes soften, and my resolve does, too.
Oh, dear Lord. Why am I being tested like this?
Discipline, Regan. My grandfather’s voice cracks like a whip in my mind.
“Did you see what happened at brunch? What makes you think we can keep this going, if you were in Houston?”
“No, I didn’t see what happened at brunch because I was too busy trying to understand why you wouldn’t even look at me.” The pain and accusation in his face makes my heart tremble.
But that’s as far as I allow myself to be pulled down. “I’m sorry for that. But, if I looked at you, everyone would have known. And Stone, no one can know about us. If Marcel knows I’ve been unfaithful, he’ll get the kids. It’s in our prenup. You have to understand. This has to be where we say goodbye. Like we planned.”
He glares at me, hands on his hips, and shakes his head, but the determination in his eyes fades, and he looks dejected.
“I’m sorry, Stone.” It feels inadequate, but it’s all I can manage.
He nods and doesn’t say anything, as I round the counter and walk over to my bags.
I take another breath and press on.
“Maybe next time we see each other, and if we’re both free, we can…see.”
He grabs me by the shoulders and spins me around, so fast, I scream. He pins me in place with a furious stare. “What if next time isn’t for another five years? What will I do without you for that long?” His voice is rough, and his eyes look so damn…pained. I almost believe him. Almost. I pull out of his grasp.
“There’ll be someone else. You’ll be fine.” The jealousy I have no right to, blazes my chest and makes a liar out of my casual voice.
His knowing laugh is unrepentant and infuriating.
“I’m trying to do the right thing, I’m glad you think it’s fun--"
He closes the space between us with one long ground eating stride, cups the back of my neck, and his lips cover my mine, in a hard, fast kiss that curls my toes and fries my senses.
He breaks the kiss as abruptly as he started it, his hold on my neck tightening, his eyes growing dark with need. “I’ll never be fine again, Regan. You’ve ruined me,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Why did you do that?” I ask, when I can speak again.
“You said you were trying to do the right thing. And kissing you…it’ll always be the right thing.”
The sincere hope in his eyes is a battering ram against the walls of my resistance. I groan in frustration and drop my forehead on his chest.
His other arm winds around my waist.
“Don’t leave today. Let’s go back to your room and spend this last night together. Let me say goodbye to you.”
I want to say yes.
And that’s why I have to say no.
I cup his face. He’s shaved again, but his stubble scrapes against the palm of my hand. I memorize the strong lines of his face, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the lush pink center of his bottom lip, and the way he makes me feel like I can touch the sky.
“Thank you so much for this week. It’s been one of the happiest of my life.”
“We can have more.” His face is so earnest. I know he thinks he means it. But life can’t just be one big adventure. It’s obligations and responsibility. He’s got his whole life ahead of him, and I’ve got children to
raise and a marriage to end. And a life to plan.
“Maybe...But before I make promises to anyone else, I want to try and finally keep the ones I made to myself.”
He deflates in the face of my plea. He presses his lips together and puts his hands on his hips. His eyes glitter with frustration.
“You deserve that. And I want it for you,” His smile is so sad.
I hate myself for putting that there.
I hate him for making me feel the same.
Then he pulls me into a hug so tight, it’s hard to breathe. But I hold on and press my cheek to his and savor the feel and smell of the man who has given me more joy in three days than I’ve felt in fifteen years.
My eyes burn from the sting of unshed tears.
This is over. Probably, for good. But I won’t cast it as tragic. That this happened at all is amazing. After years of feeling the exact opposite, I now know that I am indeed, made to be loved. Even though he didn’t say the words; from taking me on that road trip, to bungee jumping, to showing me the wonders of the universe, to the way he’s letting me go now, I feel loved.
The doors slide open and the sound of jet engines, the smell of fuel and a wave of hot air roll in and bring reality with them. I look over my shoulder to find a member of the crew waving awkwardly at me.
He hugs me one more time and then picks my carry-on bag and walks with me to the door.
“Take care,” I say. A lump made of equal parts grief and gratitude lodges in my throat.
He takes my hand and draws it up to his mouth for a kiss.
“We didn’t find each other again for no reason. This may be the wrong time. But we are the right people. And you’ve always been my favorite what if.”
“I hope now that will stop being true.” I say with a flippancy I don’t feel.
“Why would it?” he looks genuinely puzzled.
“Because now you know that what if is sweet, but messy.”
He chuckles and it rumbles hollow and sad against my ribcage. That fierce determination back in his. “Well, you told me once that I was good at cleaning up your messes…when I get back to Houston, we’re going to find out if that’s still true.” He presses a hard, possessive kiss to my mouth. And for one glorious, final minute, I don’t give a damn who sees.