comfortable.
“Where’s Sarah?” she snapped. Nathan bit his olive off its
skewer, and Saffron sipped her mojito. “Alright. What did I
miss?”
“She ditched him days ago. No one knows why.” Nathan in-
formed her.
“We’d better go save him from himself.” Saffron insisted,
setting down her glass and taking Nathan by the hand. With a
half-assed wave, they vanished into the crowd without another
word.
Making a mental note to call Sarah, Steph left the bar and
found a quiet corner seat at the far end of the building by the
couches. She didn’t want to look conspicuously lonely and was
contended to drink in solitude. A loud squeal of pleasure startled her, and she nearly spilled her beer.
“Stephanie! Oh my God! I’m so happy you came!” Yara’s
high-pitched voice and terrible pronunciation of the English lan-80
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guage typically made Stephanie laugh, but tonight was just an-
noying. The exotic bombshell’s hazel eyes flew wide. “Oh no!
Did Phillip make you upset? Why are you hiding in the corner?”
“Everything’s fine, Yara.” Steph shot David a “save me”
look. David looked glassy eyed from a day of drinking and
shrugged at her.
“Was the dinner good? Did you eat yet? David, she needs to
eat. Go find someone to bring her a plate.” Yara railed at David, who suppressed a yawn.
“It’s okay. I ate. Calm down. Come sit down and tell me
about the ceremony.” Steph managed levelly, pulling out her
IPad and waving the waiter over for another beer. With a wide-
eyed “you asked for it” look, David wandered away.
“I’m so sorry about blowing up at you earlier. I don’t mean
to pressure you.” Scot held her close as they danced to the soft guitar music.
“It’s all right. I hate fighting with you.” Cheyenne nestled
closer to him. She did love making up, though. She rarely fought with Scot. He had a natural talent for diffusing tension, so they rarely got into a shouting match.
“I just want to make you happy, Cheyenne. I feel like we’ve
been growing apart with the deadlines and whatnot. I hate it
when we’re not connecting.”
She nodded and cautiously met his eyes. “Me too. But an-
other baby isn’t the answer. More ‘us time’ is. We need more
family time, too. “
“Not likely with the Asian tour. But I feel better knowing
you’ll both be there.”
“I know.” She sighed, hoping the rest of the band would try
to remember there was a baby on board.
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“Liam’s going to love seeing the dolphins tomorrow.” Scot
laughed.
Cheyenne looked up at him and shook her head. “No. Tod-
dler on a boat with a bunch of drunken adults? Bad idea. You
know how cranky he gets when he’s confined to small spaces.
Not to mention that would be way too much sun for him.”
“You worry way too much, my love.” He kissed her fore-
head.
Cheyenne closed her eyes. “It scares the shit out of me,
Scot. I won’t be able to relax.”
“Fine. We’ll leave him behind. I just think we need some
real family time.”
“You’re not getting any arguments from me.”
“I’ll talk to the front desk. Find out what family friendly
things they have to offer on this rock.” Scot graced her with his sweet grin, and Cheyenne pulled him down to kiss his gorgeous
mouth. He was always so thoughtful, and he still made her melt
on a daily basis.
Stephanie had spent the last hour listening to Yara drone on
about rose petals, bamboo archways, and sand mounds in the
shape of a giant heart. She nodded seriously, and Yara spoke as
if this were the most important event Steph had ever photo-
graphed. She prepared a “must shoot” list for the ceremony on
her IPad feeling bourgeois for the first time in her career.
“No! Oh my God! That is not the right champagne! David!”
She shrieked midsentence and bolted away from Stephanie after
some poor, unsuspecting servers. Steph tossed her IPad into her
purse and quickly changed location. She had just reemerged on
the patio, when Bret Williams, the lead guitarist of Fury, stepped into her path.
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“Would you care to samba, Mi’lady?” He bowed dramati-
cally to her. He was clearly buzzing. Steph cackled.
“I don’t know how,” she admitted. Bret grinned.
“Neither do I, but I’m not gonna let that stop me.” He
tossed her bag onto the table and pulled her onto the dance floor.
He yanked a rose from a nearby centerpiece, placing it between
his teeth. Halfway through their butchering of a bastardized tan-go, Yara stomped up and violently pulled the rose from his
mouth.
“This is for decoration only!” She shook her finger at him
and stuffed the rose back into the centerpiece. It sprawled cockeyed from the vase.
“So why isn’t Sarah here with you?” Steph asked once he’d
led her away from the crowd to the far edge of the dance floor.
Bret’s chipper expression vanished, and he slowed involuntarily.
He seemed to forcibly gather himself and continued leading her
in their bastardized dance with a casual shrug.
“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know my-
self. I came home from the studio the other day, and she was
gone. She just took the kids and left.” Bret’s lovely Welsh accent normally cheered her up, but his voice cracked in a heartbreaking way as he spoke.
“I’m so sorry, Bret. You two always seemed so happy. I
hope you work it out.” Steph felt surprisingly choked up. She
knew it was lame—showering him with platitudes—but she had
no idea what else to say.
“How do you know when it’s time to walk away from
someone? At a certain point, it’s just pathetic. I put everything into our marriage, and then she just…leaves. No explanation, no
fight—like she doesn’t even think we were worth fighting for.”
Stephanie tried to keep a poker face, but his train of thought
sounded a little too familiar. Though she and Phillip were more
than willing to publicly spar, neither of them had been willing to push up their sleeves and fight long enough to come to any real
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resolution.
“Tee tee!” Liam shouted, and as Bret stepped back from
Steph, the impact of Liam slamming into her legs nearly
knocked her into the pool. Bret snatched Liam back by the arm
as she started to stumble, and Phillip appeared, yanking her back from the edge by the front of her skirt. His other arm came
around her to steady her, and pulled her against him. Her face
was smashed against his chest, and she could hear his heart
hammering and smell the familiar scent of his cologne. The feel
of his body against hers was all too familiar, and she looked up into his silvery eyes. He seemed to search every millimeter of
her face, and the color flared in his cheeks.
“Pip!” Liam complained, and Phillip reluctantly released
&
nbsp; Stephanie from his grasp.
“Pip?” Bret laughed, and Phillip flushed an even deeper
shade of red.
“That’s me. Uncle Pip.” He explained. Steph tried to sup-
press a giggle at his Mary Poppins-like nickname, but it was useless. Phillip’s lips curved in a tiny smile.
“Tee Tee!” Liam complained, wrapping himself around one
of her legs. Steph struggled to keep his head from ending up un-
der her skirt.
“He certainly takes after his father,” Bret muttered, and
Phillip huffed out a surprised laugh. Cheyenne raced up with
panicked eyes.
“Where the hell is my nanny?” She growled, picking up
Liam, who reached out for Stephanie with all the theatrics of a
prisoner being dragged to the gallows.
“She’s in the ladies room. She asked me to watch him for a
minute. But he saw ‘Tee tee’, and suddenly I was no longer his
preferred playmate.” Phillip explained, cocking his head toward
Stephanie.
Scot wandered up with a drink in his hand. “What’s going
on?”
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Cheyenne blew her bangs out of her eyes with a loud ex-
hale. It had been a very long time since Steph had seen her look so stressed. “Come on, Liam. Let’s put you down for the night.”
“I’ll go with you,” Scot offered. Without looking back at
him, Cheyenne shook her head.
“I got it, Scot.”
Steph saw the hurt expression etched on Scot’s face. He
turned away. As she trailed after Cheyenne, she heard Phillip
behind her.
“Come on blokes, I’ll get the next round.”
Steph regretted her choice of shoes as she clomped after
Cheyenne down the curvy steep path toward the bungalow. The
moon was almost full, and the tropical vegetation surrounding
the path had a haunting quality. As they walked through the door of the bungalow, Steph exclaimed,
“Holy crap!” This place is beautiful!”
“Shhhh.” Cheyenne responded, and Steph realized that dur-
ing the short walk, Liam had crashed in his mother’s arms.
“What is going on with you and Scot?” Steph demanded.
Cheyenne pointed to the balcony and pulled two drinks out
of the fridge, handing one to Steph. Once they were away from
the sleeping boy, Steph sat down expectantly.
Cheyenne ran her hands though her dark hair. “What you
asked about us having another kid kind of set things off.”
Steph slapped her own forehead. “Shit, Cheyenne. I’m such
an asshole!”
“No, it wasn’t just that. We’ve been arguing for weeks. Ev-
er since we…” Cheyenne trained off.
“Since what?” Steph titled her head curiously.
Cheyenne paused. “Since we hired a nanny.”
“Kara seems great. A bit cheerful for my taste, but what do
I know?” Steph leaned forward, trying to read Cheyenne’s fine
features in the moonlight.
“Scot’s been on this kick now that he wants to have a gag-
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gle of kids. You know how much I struggled with the idea of one
baby. We’re so busy with work that we have no choice but to
have a nanny. I don’t want to just pop out kids so another person can raise them. It’s hard enough to find the family time to focus on one child.”
Steph sat frozen in the dark, rolling Cheyenne’s words
around in her head. She couldn’t help but wonder if she would
have had the same issues with Phillip had her pregnancy been
normal. A disturbing idea hit her. Would he have even wanted
kids? Maybe he wouldn’t have.
“And now we have this other person living in our home.”
Cheyenne continued, “So we actually only have one day a week
together without her there. We’re usually so tired that we can’t even enjoy it. Last Sunday, I took one of Liam’s toys away, and
he looked me in the face and said, ‘I want Kara’.”
Steph shook her head sympathetically and set down her
drink. She was starting to feel a bit too tipsy and wished that she hadn’t started this conversation. Unsure of what to say that
wouldn’t sound bitter, she vamped for time. “So what are you
going to do?”
Cheyenne shrugged with a smile. “I plan to get out of this
dress, finish this drink, and gorge myself on chocolate.”
Steph exhaled. “I guess I kind of dodged a bullet.”
Cheyenne face fell, and she went pale. She raised her glass
to Steph. “Who’s the asshole now?”
Steph tapped Cheyenne’s bottle with her own on autopilot.
She wished she could find a way to make Cheyenne see how
lucky she was.
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CHAPTER SEVEN
Phillip drove his dune buggy down the third world road like
he was a stunt man in some Mad Max-style post-apocalyptic
movie. He’d stumbled up to eat breakfast at the restaurant and
realized he was terribly late. After running back to his room after breakfast for a quick shower, he missed the shuttle ride to the
boat for today’s excursion. He was glad he’d had the forethought to rent the buggy. He was sure that Yara would be pissed that
he’d overslept, but at least he was hangover-free, which was
more than he could say for David, Scot, and Bret.
Nathan looked relatively normal at breakfast, but he’d been
a lot more focused on sex than alcohol as of late, so he had bags under his eyes, but a smile on his face. Phillip remembered those days fondly. He tried to derail that particular train of thought, but after having Steph in his arms the night before, that was an impossible mission. Her hair had smelled like peppermint, and
when she turned those eyes up at him, he’d nearly kissed her.
Old habits die hard.
He pulled up to the dock, and a quick headcount revealed
the only people conspicuously missing were the nanny and Liam.
He saw Cedric boarding the boat behind Saffron, and thought
about turning around and driving away. He’d managed to avoid
the priest the previous evening and was contented with keeping
the rest of the trip confrontation free.
He found a spot toward the back of the yacht far away from
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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
Cedric and his fan club. He’d manage to suppress a laugh when
Bret complained the night before that even a priest got more ac-
tion that he did. As Phillip climbed aboard, all three bridesmaids chattered with Cedric in Portuguese, which the priest in turn
translated for Bret. Yara and her parents were deep in discussion about the latest wedding drama. He purposefully went to the far
back of the boat, where Scot and Cheyenne were cuddled up to-
gether, making him soon feel like a third wheel. In the center of the boat, Nathan and David puffed on cigars in the wheelhouse,
while right outside, in full view of Phillip, Saffron made quite a production of rubbing sunscreen all over Stephanie, which
turned out to be an incredibly riveting sight. Steph had on a pink two-piece, and her body looked unreal. Whatever her workout
was, he wanted to sign up for the thirty day free trial. Saffron caught him watching them and gave him a conspiratorial nod.
They set out toward the smaller islands for a sail-by. The
untouched beauty m
ade for stunning views, yet he found himself
distracted by Stephanie, who perpetually bounced from one side
of the boat to the other taking pictures. As they rounded the islands and headed back in the opposite direction, D.J. Dave fired up his playlist. The boat took on a party atmosphere. Not long
after, Nathan and Steph cheered foolishly when a saccharine
sweet Ke$ha song came on. The pair jumped to their feet and
danced enthusiastically around the deck. As Steph danced by
him, he caught a glimpse of the scar to the lower right of her naval. It was surprisingly large and jagged; the scar of an emergen-cy, not a planned precise incision. She seemed completely un-
concerned about covering it. Saffron joined the dancing, and she seemed intent on grinding on Steph for Nathan’s viewing pleasure. Nathan soon became the meat in their dance party sandwich,
and Steph carelessly twirled away and bumped David’s hip with
her own on her way to sit with Cedric. David shook his head,
smiling at Steph and then approached Phillip, sympathetically
handing him a beer.
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An hour later, their yacht arrived at Dolphin Bay. The entire
ship was surrounded by the creatures, and Steph’s camera made
continuous noise as their acrobatics entertained everyone on
board. Steph leaned over Phillip’s lap for several minutes during that portion of the trip, and perched beside him to capture her
shots as the dolphins swarmed his side of the boat. Her delighted laughter twisted him in painful knots, and he nearly crawled out of his skin at her nearness.
A short while later, they dropped anchor at Pria do Sancho,
arguably the most beautiful beach in Brazil, according to all of the literature. Phillip couldn’t speak to that, but it was awe-inspiring. He pulled off his shirt and shorts and dove into the
water. Most of the group was going snorkeling, but several peo-
ple made directly for the beach and the tiny bar. Phillip saw
Steph wading through the clear water holding her miniature
backpack protectively over her head. He tried to close his eyes
and enjoy the sun, but found himself peeking at her from behind
his sunglasses. Once she was on the sand, she dried off her feet and pulled sneakers and her camera from her backpack. She
slung both over her shoulder and made for the stairs that lead to a crevice which the guide had informed them contained a treacherous ladder leading straight up the cliff face. A crooked smile tugged at his lips. Of course she’d climb the cliff. The pictures would be better from above.
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