Faking Paradise

by Lily Montgomery

  “I got another hotel room.”

  “Staying with her?” It was a low blow, but that’s where I was at the moment.

  “No.” He unbuckled and slammed the door.

  I watched him walk away, hands shoved in his pockets, head down.

  I almost called after him, but instead I got out and stood there, stuck between knowing I needed to apologize and angry that he’d done what he did. After he disappeared into the lobby, I turned and took the long way back to my bungalow, planning a long soak in the tub with a glass of wine and a book.

  16

  The wedding would be on the beach, so my dress for the rehearsal dinner was just a more formal sundress and sandals. None of the runners had been put down yet, so I knew trying to traverse the sand in anything other than flats would be a joke. There were a couple of chairs for Mom and Dad, but the rest of us were sitting on the sand while Rebecca and Jordan talked with the wedding coordinator.

  I sat cross-legged and doodled in the sand with a stick. I’d already been asked where Grant was, and I was getting irritated at having to lie and say he wasn’t feeling well. Truth was, he was probably on top of whatever-her-name-was right about now.

  I’d planned on swallowing my pride and apologizing the next time I saw him, but I would rather choke on seaweed than do it in front of her.

  Maybe I'd start saying that Grant had food poisoning and that would be a decent cover for today and tomorrow. We only had to keep up the facade for one more day. It honestly might be easier to do with him absent as opposed to us arguing.

  “Did I miss anything important?” Grant asked as he took a seat beside me.

  “I told everyone you had food poisoning and that you couldn't get off the toilet and that's why you weren't here. You're welcome to leave.”

  “We had a deal and I'm a man of my word.”

  I bit back a sarcastic retort. “You haven’t missed anything.” I kept doodling. The silence grew awkward, and I figured now was as good a time as any. “I’m sorry for what I said, by the way.”

  “Which part?” he asked.

  “All of it?” I gave him a sheepish glance. “Look.” I swallowed. I was about to be very vulnerable with him, and I wasn’t really excited about it. “I just felt rejected. I was ready and willing, and you obviously were not. It wounded my pride a little. A lot, actually. And I guess it didn’t help seeing you with her. Although I guess I deserved it.”

  “With her? What are you talking about?”

  “Look, I saw you talking with her this morning. If I’m out of the picture, you can do whatever with her.”

  “First off, you’re not out of the picture. The week isn’t over yet. Second, I was talking to her about getting another room. There wasn’t another person running the front desk. I almost didn’t because I didn’t want her to know, but I figured you wouldn’t want me back in your room,” he explained. “I have no interest in her. And it is a personal policy of mine not to sleep with drunk girls, no matter how much I want to.” He leaned over. “And believe me, I wanted to.”

  “Well, it is not a personal policy of mine to get drunk and make a fool of myself.” I went back to doodling.

  “We’ve all been there. Do you really think all I care about is sex?”

  It was too late to lie. Drunken Sophie had let it all out. “Yes,” I admitted.

  “Maybe I’m just trying to fill a void, no pun intended.”

  His admission shocked me, and I looked up to him. We’d been intimate—multiple times—and had even had sex with the lights on, but somehow I got the feeling that he’d never been more vulnerable than he was right now. Something in his eyes said his walls were down, and it was Rebecca’s interruption that reminded me that we weren’t alone, preventing me from kissing him.

  “All right, guys,” she called, clapping her hands to get our attention.

  After we’d been given the order of the ceremony, everyone was corralled toward the opposite side of the arbor, which we’d need to decorate tomorrow. I stood next to the groomsman who would be walking me down, and he introduced himself as Carlton, Jordan’s cousin. He looked to be roughly the same age as Jordan, with the same smooth sepia skin, although Carlton was tall and lanky, where Jordan was tall and muscular.

  “Soph,” I said, shaking his hand. “I’m Rebecca’s older sister.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” he said.

  I asked Carlton a few basic getting-to-know-you questions, and I was pleased to find he was quite funny. He kept whispering little one-liners to me while we waited on our turn to walk out, and I had to hold my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Rehearsal or no, Rebecca would kill me if I giggled and disturbed the procession.

  The rehearsal was long and boring, as was expected. It was a wedding, not rocket science, and most of us had been in several and already knew what to do. I was most excited for the dinner that followed. It would be a traditional luau, complete with fire dancers. We walked into the space, which was smaller than the public luau we’d gone to earlier in the week, but it was decorated more elaborately.

  “So what was your groomsman saying that was so funny?” Grant asked as he pushed my chair in.

  “Just making little jokes,” I answered. “Are we okay, by the way? I really am sorry for everything I said.”

  “We’re fine.” He kissed my hand. “Just don’t get too drunk tonight. Maybe I’ll try to fill more of that void.” Winking, he took a sip of his drink.

  “Oh, is that so?” I sipped my blue Hawaii.

  “It is.” His hand found my knee and began the sensual travel up my thigh. I prayed I could hold it together through dinner.

  After gorging myself on poi and kalua pig, and the speeches were over, Grant gave me the signal that he was ready to go.

  “I can’t leave yet,” I whispered, even though I very much wanted to.

  “Oh, come on.” He nuzzled.

  I made him wait, and I didn’t know if it was a worse torture for him or me. By the time my mother finished giving me instructions for tomorrow, I was practically climbing the walls. I’d also had one too many blue Hawaiis, and my bladder was overly full, which wasn’t sexy in the least. My sandals slapped the boardwalk as we scurried along, holding hands like a couple of teenagers. It occurred to me that tomorrow was our last night here, and this would all come to a crashing halt. I stopped running.

  “What? What is it?” Grant asked, breathless.

  “I just…” don’t want this to end… “wanted to savor the time.”

  He pulled me to him, resting his hands on my hips.

  “We can slow it down,” he said, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

  The muscles in my gut quivered, and suddenly slowing it down wasn’t what I wanted. Going slow was fine when I thought it was the only time we were going to do it and I wanted to make sure it was worth it. But now I knew it was worth it and we weren’t limited. I kissed him, longer and deeper, giving a soft tease at his zipper with my finger. He sucked in through his teeth, breaking the kiss.

  I walked by him, giving a come hither glance over my shoulder, and he followed me to our bungalow. The door was still swinging shut behind us when he pushed me to the wall, kissing me.

  “I need a second,” I said, pulling away. “I had too much to drink,” I admitted, slipping into the bathroom. Was it sexy? No. But it was way sexier than the alternative. I stepped out to see him holding up the lingerie I had bought.

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The underwear was hanging from his finger, his brow raised.

  “Hey!” I snatched it from him. “That’s personal.” I took the bag from him and shoved the underwear in the black plastic bag.

  “I wouldn’t mind if you modeled it for me,” he suggested

  “You peeked. You’ve ruined the surprise,” I teased.

  “Definitely didn’t ruin it. If anything, I’m even more excited to see it on you.”

  “I dunno.” I pulled the underwear from the bag, dangling it
in front of him. “I also got these.” I exchanged the undies for the handcuffs.

  “You’re mean. You know that, right? Mean.” Pulling the bag from my hand and dropping it to the floor, he maneuvered the handcuffs and clasped them around my right wrist. I could have stopped him, of course, but I liked where this was going. Picking me up, he put me on the bed with my head at the foot. The headboard was solid and plush, with bamboo rods surrounding it, but the footboard was made of nothing but bamboo rods, making it the perfect place for handcuffs.

  “I could just leave you here,” he said, sitting atop me.

  “You could.” By the content of his pants, I knew he wouldn’t. “But remember. Two can play that game.” God, I was aching at this point.

  He removed his jacket and tie, then began unbuttoning his shirt. I wasn’t mad at the view in the least. Watching him undress with a hunger in his eyes—a hunger that was for me—was almost enough to make me climax. He threw his belt to the side and then his hands were caressing me, moving their way from my hips to my breasts and up to the ties at my shoulders. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so as soon as he untied my straps, he slid the top of my dress down to my waist.

  The anticipation itself was almost too much. I almost wanted to savor his mouth on me, his fingers playing at the hem of my underwear, more than that I wanted to satisfy the hunger in me. His tongue flicked and licked my nipple while his other hand dove deep inside me. I moaned. His finger was talented, but it only increased my want of him. Bringing me to the edge, he left me there, bringing his hand up to remove my dress.

  “It won’t go over my hips,” I said, breathless. Instead, he pushed it up over my head, leaving it around my cuffed wrists. Slowly, he removed the not so sexy underwear that I’d had on. I wasn’t exactly planning for this, so I was wearing a pair of floral cotton undies. I’d dressed for comfort.

  I pulled at the cuffs as he kissed the inside of my thigh, making his way up, his tongue dancing along the gooseflesh that he’d given me. No wonder he’d cuffed me. Uncuffed, I would have already taken the reins and taken us where we wanted to go. I tried not to squirm as his tongue found its destination. My body almost couldn’t handle the pure ecstasy that it was feeling, and I couldn’t keep still.

  “Be still,” he scolded.

  “God, Grant, I can’t.” I pulled at the cuffs again. Damn it. I should have gotten the cheap ones.

  “Be still or I’ll stop.”

  “Don’t you dare.” I tried to hold still. My toes curled into the sheets and the metal of the cuffs dug into my wrists as I tried. This time, he let me over the cliff. I was left panting, even though all I’d done was try to lie still.

  After tossing his pants and underwear to the side, he gripped my hips. I yelped as I was unexpectedly flipped over. Instinctively, I landed on my knees and elbows. Well, that could have been smoother.

  Almost immediately, he filled me from behind, pulling me backward into him. I rocked on my knees and elbows, meeting him thrust for thrust. I’d likely have bruises on my hips tomorrow from his grip, but it was well worth it. I could feel myself getting close once again, and I tightened my muscles again, remembering his comment.

  “Fuck, Sophie, yes.”

  As I contracted around him, he groaned, slowing his rhythm.

  He flopped down on the bed beside me. “Damn, girl.”

  “You wanna help a girl out?” I nodded to the cuffs.

  “I can’t move.”

  “You better figure out a way.” I wasn’t uncomfortable, but I definitely didn’t want to spend any more time in such a position than I needed to.

  Rolling off the bed and finding the key, he unlocked the cuffs, freeing me.

  “Pizza and beer?” I asked, walking to the bathroom.

  “I’m on it.”

  My fluffy robe was still in the bathroom from when I’d changed earlier, and I slipped it on, tying the sash.

  “What the hell are you doing, Sophie?” I asked myself in the mirror. Shaking my head, I rejoined Grant to wait on the pizza. One more day in paradise, I thought, dropping to the bed and kissing a snoozing Grant. He opened his eyes and grinned. Some people went their entire lives without so much as a day in paradise, and I was getting a week. I couldn’t complain.

  17

  Grant kissed my forehead and I stirred. His side of the bed was cool, which meant he’d been awake for a while. I rubbed my eyes and sat up.

  “Good morning, sunshine.”

  “Morning,” I yawned.

  “Breakfast is served, my dear.” He stood at the sliding glass door to the lanai and gave a sweeping gesture. The contents of the outside table finally registered, and I threw the covers from me, putting on the robe that had been forgotten on the floor after our post-pizza round two last night. Like I said, he had stamina.

  “Mmm. Looks good.” I sat, reaching past the healthy granola bowls and going for the taro bagels I’d developed a love for.

  “Are you ready for today?” He passed me the cream cheese.

  I shrugged, spreading it on my bagel. “Rebecca will have plans a, b, and c all ready to go. I just have to jump when she says jump.”

  “She’s quite the Type A, isn’t she?”

  “I think it’s probably difficult being the next to the youngest. For a while, she was the baby, which meant she was the star of the show. Then, Maisy came along. They’re close enough in age that they’re great friends, but Maisy took Rebecca’s place as the baby. I guess to compensate for that, Rebecca made sure she excelled in almost everything. Which she does, but Maisy is one of those people who’s just naturally talented.”

  “What about you?” He added strawberries to his yogurt bowl.

  “What about me?” I licked cream cheese from my fingers.

  “You’re the oldest, right? Any jealousy when a new baby sister came home?”

  “A little at first, but I was four when Vivian was born, and Mom and Dad did a really good job of making me a big part of everything, saying it was my job to help them change diapers, it was my job to help hold the bottle, all that. Then when Rebecca was born two years later, it was the same thing. Vivian was smart, even for a toddler, so she loved helping with the new baby. By the time Maisy came along, I was eight and used to it, so I didn’t feel the need to be all up in the diapers and bottles all the time. What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  I shook my head, smirking.

  “Well, I have one older brother. He’s a doctor, has two kids, and lives in Colorado. He was fifteen when I was born. I was a bit of a woopsie daisy.”

  “Uncle Grant, huh?” The image of Grant in one of his expensive suits, holding a screaming baby almost sent me into a fit of giggles.

  I found out that Grant had two nieces, and he proudly showed me pictures of him with them at their preschool graduations, awards days, birthdays, and playing at the park. My previous mental image of him with a baby shattered. He knew what he was doing and looked genuinely happy with the two little girls, Madison and Emily.

  “We have some time before we need to leave for the cleaners. Do you want to take a stroll? Maybe take a dip?” he asked as we finished breakfast.

  “I could go for a quick dip.”

  Once I was bikini clad and properly sunblocked, we strolled out to the beach, laying out a blanket and stretching out.

  “So, we’ve got the big fight tonight,” I said. “You ready for it?”

  I had known it was coming. I’d spent the week preparing myself for it. I’d spent time in the shower rehearsing the things I’d say, dreaming up scenarios that would lead to our breakup.

  He sighed. “Yeah.”

  In a way, the fight would be a relief. It would be a marker of the end of our fake relationship and would provide closure. It would close the door and help me move on.

  “So, do you want to pinch Vivian’s butt? Take a waitress into a closet? Get drunk and start being belligerent?”

  “Can we do something that doesn’t make me look like
a complete douchebag?” We’d saved some of the fruit from breakfast, and he popped a grape into his mouth.

  “I could always take a waitress into a closet?”

  He gave me a sideways look.

  “Fair.” I bit into a strawberry.

  “What if we skip the breakup?”

  My head whipped toward him. “What?”

  “What if we just… didn’t break up in Hawaii? You could always just tell them we broke up when we got back to New York. You can make up whatever story you’d like.” He threw a grape stem.

  “I can deal with that,” I said.

  We lounged and watched the surfer dudes try to catch some waves, even though there were no waves to be had today. One guy fell so many times, he eventually gave up. We made bets on how long he’d stand up with each go, which left me owing Grant thirty bucks. When we’d gotten our fill of fun in the sun, we showered and got dressed to go pick up the dresses from the cleaners.

  The hotel had a specific room for the bridal party, and Grant helped me carry the dresses in, hanging them up on the rack.

  “Bye, sweetie,” he said, kissing me and leaving us girls to it.

  “I know he’s yours, and I’m getting married in a few hours, but yum,” Rebecca said as she watched him leave.

  “Hey!” I said defensively. “You look at your own man’s backside.”

  “I’d make an exception for a little white meat,” Jordan's sister, Nicole, said, raising her eyebrow in appreciation.

  “You wouldn’t be disappointed,” I said, giving a grin.

  “Oooh, he looks like he’d be a devil in the sheets,” she said.

  “How long have you two been together?” Rebecca asked.

  “Not too long.” I aimed for vague, hoping to elude specifics.

  “I think he’s in love,” she said.

  I snorted. “He’s only in love with himself.” I unzipped Rebecca’s dress bag and hung it on a higher hook, giving her skirts a fluff.

  “No, he’s definitely in love,” Maisy added.