by Coco Miller
Zola walked so carefully as she traveled the halls of my home staring at the artwork hanging on the walls. Chandeliers hung every few feet and the rooms were large with king-sized beds and big bathrooms. I knew she was overwhelmed, but I never expected her to go into her room without a single word for the night.
This morning was a little better. She spoke to me and admitted it was just a lot to take in, and she had to rethink our agreement because she wasn’t sure if this world was one she wanted to get into. I think she said that because once she got a taste, she wouldn’t ever want to go back to what she was used to.
And I never want her to.
The braking of the plane brings me back to reality. The tires squeal loudly, and smoke fills the air as rubber burns as the pilot brings the plane to a stop.
“Thank you, Jesus. Thank you. I’ll do whatever you want for the rest of my life for getting me to the ground. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says rapidly holding her hands in a prayer formation.
I chuckle and she gives me a death stare. I zip my mouth shut and smile. I can’t help but find her so amusing. She is way more dramatic than I thought she’d be. The more I get to know her, the more of her personality comes through. It’s infectious, and addictive, and I want more of her every second I’m with her.
I hold out my hand and her sweaty palm slides into mine. Our adventure is about to begin, and I just remembered, I never told my dad I was getting married.
Whoops.
After an eventful boat ride of Zola puking her guts over the side the entire way to the island, we finally make it. Note to self: if we are ever out to sea again bring Dramamine.
“Oh my goodness,” Duncan’s mother says in awe. She clutches her cardigan together and Duncan has his arm around to keep her steady. “This is beautiful. Thank you for bringing me, Easton. This is a wonderful thing to see before−−−she clears her throat—anyway, just thank you.”
“It’s really not a problem. I wouldn’t want anyone else here besides you and Duncan.”
“You’re a good man.”
“I’ll have to agree,” Zola says, and when I look at her, the wind took that moment to blow through her curls. The waves crash against the shore, and the moon shines bright, glistening against her eyes.
“You are beautiful,” I say one more time myself in awe of looking at her. She hears me and bites her lip, tucking a curl behind her ear.
She toes the sand. “Thank you.”
I love how I affect her.
I wonder if she knows how she affects me?
“So? What’s the plan? Where are we staying?” Duncan asks.
“Well, we have the main cabin,” I point to the large house to the left. A lot of it can’t be seen because of the trees blocking it. I wanted privacy. “You guys have that one,” I point to the right, and a large colorful cottage comes to view. “There’s a wrap-around porch and you’ll have your own caretaker.” I say once I see Emmanuel walk out the door of the cottage and onto the beach.
He has his shirt off, prowling toward Duncan’s mother.
“Mom, cover your eyes,” Duncan says, trying to cover them for her.
“Like hell,” she slaps his palm away. “I’m dying, baby, and that man right there is how I want to spend the rest of my life living.”
“Disturbing,” he glances away, clearly uncomfortable.
Who isn’t when they think about their parents actually having a sex life?
“Hola, Bonita,” he greets her, taking her hand and placing a linger kiss on her knuckles.
“Hola,” her hand flies to her chest in disbelief.
“I am Emmanuel. If you need anything, I am here to serve you.”
Zola giggles and the lyrical sound tugs at my heart. Looking over my shoulder, I see her hand covering her mouth, but the smile can still be seen around her eyes. I decide to tune out the awkward encounter Duncan, the caretaker, and Duncan’s mom are having and take Zola’s hand and head to the house.
Our feet sink into the white sand as we stroll toward the house. The perfume of flowers hang in the air from the jungle surrounding us and the leaves brush together as the wind blows. As we climb the steps, the wood creaks and when we make it the porch, rose petals are on the ground and candles are lit. A sign hangs from the top rafter of the porch and it says, “Zola’s Haven.”
“Easton.”
I close my eyes when I hear my name falling off her lips.
“What have you done?”
It’s in that very moment I know, it isn’t just her Haven, but mine too.
11
Zola
I thought I had been dreaming, but waking up to paradise tells me this is now. This is my present. This is my life. If two months ago, someone were to tell me that I’d be here, getting married, I would have laughed in their face.
“Good Morning,” Easton sets a tray full of bright, fresh fruit and pancakes with a large cup of coffee. “Nice to see you awake,” he runs his knuckles down my cheek.
“Is that for me?” I ask, as my stomach rumbles.
“Yeah, it is, baby.”
Baby.
Every time he calls me that, I want to throw myself at him and rip his clothes off. No man has ever cared enough about me enough to call me any endearments.
I shove a piece of watermelon in my mouth to stop myself from saying something stupid. The juice bursts across my taste buds and I moan. It’s so sweet.
A low growl has me opening my eyes to see Easton staring at my mouth with heat.
When he stares at me like that, it makes my self−control start to slip. I want to give in to him, but I know if do, I’d be lost in him even more.
“So, what’s the plan for the day?” I ask.
He coughs, pulling his gaze from my lips and stares out the window.
“Today, I have someone coming here to help you and Duncan’s mother get ready for the wedding.”
Holy shit, this is actually happening. I’m getting married today. Staring at him, I wait for panic, for second thoughts, for that voice in the back of my head to speak up like it always does.
Nothing.
For the first time in a long time, I have no fear. I’m not too sure how I feel about that. I’m so used to living with it that not having it feels unfamiliar. It’s just business. It’s just business. I tell myself, but my heart believes that isn’t the case.
I mean, he named the freakin’ house after me. He is gifting me things I have never even dreamed of. How can a girl not fall a little in love? It is more than that though. He and I connect in a way I have never connected with anyone before. Our chemistry is off the charts.
“I’m giving you an out.”
“Wait…what?” I ask in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“To do this. I’ll still pay your bills but you don’t have to marry me.”
“That won’t get you the company. Plus a deal is a deal.” I study him a bit and lean back, cradling my coffee to my chest. “What’s this about? I know I’ve been a lot to handle lately—”
“No, that’s not it. It’s…” He sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair and then down his neck and through his beard that is thicker than usual. “I’ll be there. On the beach. Right outside this house. If you aren’t there, I understand.”
“What?” I shout as he starts to walk from the bedroom to the living room. His white shirt and khaki pants nearly blended in with the light atmosphere of the house. The floors are bamboo and the walls were as bright as snow. The floor plan is open and airy. The bedroom, living room and kitchen are all open spaces. No walls. It’s freeing.
But watching him walk away makes me feel trapped.
“Easton! You can’t just leave saying something like that. What is wrong with you? You drag me here—” I try and untangle myself out of the sheet when I stand and trip when it gets caught around my foot. I huff in annoyance and shake it off. “You put me in a plane that nearly crashed—”
“It did not nearly crash.”<
br />
“And then you take me on a boat for a hundred miles and I puke my guts up.”
“Twenty miles.”
“Now, you are saying you don’t want this? What about your company?” I grab his wrist before he walks out the door. I hate that I notice the sun shining against the dark caramel streaks in his hair. The only time I get to see them is when he is in the sunlight. “Don’t leave me like this. I deserve an explanation.”
“I’d rather lose the company than have someone chained to me for the rest of their lives if they aren’t happy. You need to know, the brief time I’ve gotten to know you, the plan I had was just a plan, but now, I want it to be real. I’m falling in love with you, and if you can’t see yourself feeling the same way about me, you have to put a man out of his misery because once I’m married to you, Zola, you’re mine.”
He leans forward and steals my lips, robbing my breath with the ravenous kiss. The air surrounding us buzzes with intensity and I get dizzy. My stomach flips when his hands land on my lower back. The searing heat from his hands feels like a brand, stamping his claim on me, marking me, owning me, just like he is with this kiss.
“Please, be there,” he whispers what feels like a late night’s breeze against my lips.
My eyes flutter open and that’s when I see the door open, the bright green leaves swaying, and the entryway empty.
The Latina woman standing behind me is beautiful. She has long black hair and olive skin, dark brown eyes the color of espresso and full lips. Her body is curvaceous, all breasts and ass with a small waist. And on top of all of that the woman can do some hair. It’s the first time I’ve seen my hair blown into soft beach waves. Defined yet bouncy. I look like a different person.
“Perfecto,” she says, spinning the chair until I am face to face with the mirror.
I gasp, bringing my hand to my face. I look so different. My lips are a glossy crimson red, my eyes have a shimmery natural shadow on the lid, my lashes are thick with mascara, and my hair frames my face perfectly. I look beautiful if I dare say so myself.
“Wow, you have a gift,” I say, running my fingers through my strands.
“And you too, perfecto,” she says to Duncan’s mom.
She looks gorgeous. Her hair is up in an elegant French twist, and the makeup makes her look less sick. The dark circles are gone and her eyes sparkle with happiness. I imagine she hasn’t felt that in a while.
“This has been the best trip ever. I can literally die a happy woman.”
My mouth falls open and then closes with an audible crack from my teeth clanking together. She talks about dying so easily as if its par for the course.
“Sorry, it’s cancer humor, but it’s the truth.”
“I am so sorry.” I had no idea what else to say.
“It’s okay, dear. I’ve lived a good life and my boy is a good man. That was my purpose for this life.”
Purpose.
“How did you know what your purpose was?”
She lifted a colored brow at me and sauntered over to me in her flowy yellow dress. “Why? Do you not know what yours is?”
I sigh and look at my dress hanging in the archway. It’s form-fitting, lace, with a sweetheart neckline and it’s perfect. I hadn’t picked it out, Easton did. He seems to know me better than I know myself.
“Easton and I …we haven’t been together long,” I keep it as vague as possible. I’m not sure how much she knows about Easton and our arrangement.
“It’s business. I know. It’s actually how I met Duncan’s father. Not exactly the same issues but along the same lines. Both of us needed an out, and it only made it better that I fell in love with him.”
She unhooks my dress from the hanger and brings it over.
“I knew my purpose when I saw him at the end of that aisle. To love him and to build a life with him. I fell in love him long before we ever told each other we loved one another.”
“How did you know it was business between me and Easton?”
I’m wondering if I’m putting on a horrible acting job.
“Duncan loves to gossip,” she says.
“No!” I giggle, imagining him with a cup of tea, gossiping like a teenage girl.
“Cross my heart. Now, I’m just wondering, what is yours telling you, pretty girl?” She tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear like a mother would do, and it hits me hard that my own mother isn’t here to see me get married.
I trace the lace flower on my wedding gown and sigh, trying not to cry. I don’t want to mess up my makeup. I glance toward the clock and see I have ten minutes to get to the beach or go home. It’s the most important ten minutes of my life, and I have no idea what to do. This was originally a beneficial arrangement and now it’s turned into something more. It changes everything.
“Easton told me that he was falling in love with me and if I didn’t love him back, to not meet him at the beach because he couldn’t stand the thought of me being miserable.”
“I see,” she says, helping me stand.
I shuck the robe off and lift my leg. “And I don’t think I would be miserable. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. What I feel for him in such a short amount of time. It’s scary.” Then I lift my other leg. “I’ve been alone along time. It’s just been me. I never expected to meet someone who’d accept my scars, pain, attitude problem, and all.” I chuckle and readjust my breasts. “Someone whom I can see myself with five or ten or even twenty years from now.”
“Well, it looks like you’ve made up your mind to me.” Her hands grip my shoulder and spin me toward the mirror.
I’m in my dress and wow. It’s breathtaking.
“Since you didn’t stop me from putting this on you then I’m going to say you know. I wish there were certain times in my life that I didn’t let fear control me as much. Not everything has to be scary. Not everything is as bad as we make it out to be. Most of the time life is so good, but because we are so used to the bad, I sometimes think it’s hard not to see a good thing when you have it. And sweetie, you have it.”
I run my hands down the lace hugging my body like a second skin. The white dress skimming along my bronzed skin reminds me of Easton’s hands touching me. I’ve never been more excited about another human being. I can’t wait to see him.
“I think you may be right.”
“I know I am.” She rolls her eyes and grabs the bouquet of wild lilies and honeysuckles. “I love weddings,” she says on a happy sigh. “Now, let’s go meet our guys.”
“Duncan?”
“Um, no. My guy is Emmanuel and he is waiting to strip this dress off me. Let’s go!”
This is it.
This is the day my life changes.
And it’s about time I realize change isn’t always a bad thing.
In fact it can be really wonderful.
12
Easton
“She’ll show.”
I wait patiently where the sand meets the foam of the waves. The day is bright and beautiful, and the sky is as blue as the water today. It’s the perfect day to start the rest of my life with the most beautiful woman in the world.
If she shows.
“I’m not sure, Duncan.”
“She’ll show,” he repeats.
“You don’t know her. She’s skittish. I need to go check on her,” I glance down at my bare feet covered in sand and water. The hem of my pants are wet and the pocket seems heavier from the weight of our wedding rings every second she isn’t standing in front of me.
“How long has it been?”
I stare out to the ocean and take in how vast it is. It’s hard to believe something this beautiful is so dangerous.
Just like Zola.
“Easton,” Duncan says.
“Duncan, not now.”
I wave him off and start thinking about a plan to get her back. I’ll date her the right way. Without strings. Without business. I don’t care if I pass my twenty−ninth birthday and don’t have the company. None of that
matters. I can build another company. What I won’t be able to create is another woman like Zola.
“Easton, look!” He grabs my arm and forces me to turn around.
Time stands still and the sound of the waves fade.
Nothing exists except for Zola.
Her extraordinary smile is glowing in the light of the sun, and the white dress she’s wearing makes me breathe a sigh of relief.
She showed.
Zola walks towards me and the sweetheart neckline of her gown rises to one side and then the other with every sway of her luscious hips.
She stops in front of me and smiles, showing her straight white teeth and dimples.
“You showed,” I say to her smiling.
“I did,” she says. “I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.”
“You look beautiful.”
“So do you, Easton.”
The way she looks at me when she says it strips my soul bare. She isn’t talking about my looks. I take her hands in mine, the skin soft and made to fit perfectly in mine.
“What a relief,” Duncan says. “I thought he was going to lose it if you didn’t show, Zola.”
“Yeah so let’s do this thing before she changes her mind,” I say as I stare at my betrothed with a deep intensity.
“Alrighty then. By the power vested in me from the online Church of God, I pronounce you man and wife!” he says, tossing rose petals in the air.
“I think you skipped a few steps, son.” Duncan’s mom nudges him with her elbows.
“No, that’s perfect,” I say. My voice dark, conveying just what I have in store for her.
Her mouth parts on a silent breath. “Oh.”
“Oh, is right.”
I place my hand on the back of Zola’s head and pull her lips to mine in a desperate kiss. Her glossy lips slide against mine and her tongue flicks out for a taste of me. Being the kind husband that I am, I part my mouth and let her take the lead in the seductive dance between us. Soft and plush, our kiss makes me forget where we are and who we are with.