by Anne Kemp
As she finished this last sentence, Abby could see Andrew through the kitchen window. He was smiling at her as she walked up to the house. J.D. be damned, she thought. He missed the boat.
She felt her heart flip as she smiled back at Andrew, knowing that the fact that they were about to share a small space for the next week could complicate this situation that much more.
CHAPTER NINE
It was an easy packing job -- bathing suit, cover-up, some shorts and T-shirts, a couple of sundresses, and a pair of jeans. Abby started to pack a sweatshirt, then laughed at the thought of even needing it on the island, tossing it back into its cubby.
When everyone had disbanded after the meal, Abby had decided she wanted to pack for the trip. She tackled her clothes first. Then, thinking she was alone in the pool house, she looked for her toiletries so she could get them organized when Andrew appeared in front of her wrapped in a towel. Abby’s thoughts could only remind her she was in a no-touch situation.
His South African accent seemed a little thicker when he spoke. Or maybe Abby was just hearing everything in slow motion.
“Are you okay, Abby?”
Abby realized she was hard-core staring at his abs. Wow, she thought. Never thought I was an ab girl, but wow . . .
“Umm . . . ” she cleared her throat, which sparked a coughing fit. Andrew watched her with amusement.
“What I meant was, yes, I’m fine. I was just wondering if the towel you had on . . . if that was mine and then I kinda zoned out. You know, wondering why I’d pack it when we’re going to a hotel.”
The smile that played on Andrew’s beautiful full lips was torturing Abby for some reason. She wasn’t sure if he was truly humored by her or was fighting the urge to make fun of her. And the electric current that was generating between them was not helping matters one bit.
“The towel? Ben said I could use it. If it’s yours, my apologies. Want it back?” He was grabbing at the edge, teasingly, as if he was about to take it off and hand it over.
Abby shook her head and laughed nervously. “That’s okay. Keep it on, there, sailor.” She took a hot second to recover. “I just like to pack for any situation. Makes me a little neurotic, I guess.”
Andrew nodded his head, turning around to head up the steps to Ben’s room so he could change. “Neurotic. Yes, just what I was thinking as well.”
Abby snapped her attention his way to make sure he was teasing. From the smile that had enveloped his face, she could see he was.
“Yeah . . . Well, back to packing.” Abby found herself awkwardly playing with the rings on her fingers yet again.
Andrew opened his mouth to say something when Ben walked in.
“Hey! You done? I need to shower, then we should go grab a beer, right?”
Andrew turned his gaze away from Abby, focusing on Ben. “Sounds good. Give me five.”
“Ben, leave out what you want to take tomorrow and I’ll pack it for you. That way you guys can get out of here. Cool?” Abby was desperate for anything to keep her mind and hands busy.
Ben and Andrew both let out a whoop of excitement. “Told ya, Andrew. Abby’s the best. I got lucky.” Then Ben bolted up the stairs to get ready to go out.
Andrew turned around, trailing Ben up the steps to his room. “Yes, you did say that, Ben.” Andrew then turned back to look at Abby again. “You did get lucky.” He then shot her one last wicked grin and disappeared into Ben’s room.
Abby felt her body shudder just a bit. I’ll find something annoying about him in no time, she decided. Then I can move on.
#
Morning came quickly. Abby had planned an early rise so she could have her coffee, waking up properly by sipping peacefully on her caffeine by the pool. She was so busy daydreaming that she didn’t see the gigantic centipede that had begun making its way across the terrace toward her bare foot. It was a big one, measuring about ten inches. And its little legs were swiftly bringing it closer to Abby’s unsuspecting feet.
Snapping out of her dreamy state to see the pincered insect approaching quickly, Abby made a split-second decision.
In her mind, she pictured herself jumping in a fluid motion from sitting position to standing on the chair, or maybe using the chair as a launching pad, like Jennifer Garner would in Alias, or Angelina Jolie in one of the Tomb Raider movies, so she could jump over to the pool house, landing by the door, and get one of Ben’s boots, twirl around and pummel the rippling caterpillar-like demon to a bloody and deliberate death.
Unfortunately, Abby wasn’t quite so graceful. When she saw the centipede, she let out such frightened, guttural sounds that one might be forgiven for thinking she was fleeing from a mass murderer. Meanwhile, she was trying to hoist herself on top of the chair to remove her feet and legs from harm’s way. But as luck would have it, her flip-flop caught one of the plastic chair rungs, making it wobble just long enough to make her lose her balance and descend into a slow-motion free fall.
It was only fitting that at this precise moment Andrew emerged from the pool house to check on the commotion. As Andrew’s foot touched terra firma outside the front door, Abby was slowly falling backward, toward the pool. At the same time, while it was sinking in that she was about to fall into cold water at 7 a.m. for her own private hell of a wake-up call, her robe was beginning to slide off her body. Arms flailing as she tried to hold on to the small bit of fabric covering her bra and panties, Abby still had her eyes on the centipede and was barking at Andrew to “KILL IT!!!” She hit the water, chair still caught in her flip-flop -- her robe on the ground next to where she’d stood.
Andrew was already using Ben’s boot to crush the centipede. As Abby raised her head out of the water, she watched as the creature lifted his body one last time toward Andrew before he delivered the crushing fatal blow.
Abby bobbed in the water, breathing heavily, not sure what to do. Andrew turned, pointing at the centipede. “Got it,” he said, and grinned.
“Great. That’s just great.” She was unhooking her shoe from the chair and putting them up on the side of the pool. “I’m glad.”
Andrew was trying not to laugh as he surveyed the scene: Abby’s coffee had toppled over, her robe was on the ground, and she was in the pool half-naked, hoisting out a dripping deck chair. His attempt to suppress his amusement was unsuccessful.
Abby rolled her eyes and looked at him with indignation. “Okay, I get it. Ha ha. Abby, you’re a mess. Ben, did you see Abby run from the centipede ’cause she’s a sissy? Tee hee hee . . . Let’s Facebook this with a status update. Oh, no, wait! I’m gonna tweet it. Bwah ha ha.”
Abby’s attempt at sarcasm only made Andrew laugh harder. She was a pitiful sight, dripping wet and looking forlorn, but as she looked around at the yard and how it must have looked from Andrew’s point of view, she started to giggle as well. As they were laughing, Andrew picked up Abby’s robe, bringing it over to her by the poolside.
“Here, Abby. I would not be a decent man if I left you in the pool half-naked after running from such a mean, evil, large, gigantic --”
“I get it, Andrew! Look. Those things are evil and that one was gigantic. I’ve heard stories down here about their stingers.” Abby motioned for him to turn around so she could climb out of the pool and put her robe back on. “People go to the hospital because of those things!”
“Well,” Andrew began, with his back turned away, “you handled it with such graceful, catlike reflexes.” His lips were turned up in an evil grin.
Abby was leaning her head over the pool now, wringing out her long brown hair. “I know sarcasm, Andrew. I can be pretty sarcastic myself. You are not as subtle as you think.”
He turned around and took a step closer to her, bringing them almost nose to nose. “Maybe I’m not trying to be subtle, Abby. Subtlety is not an attribute I’m usually known for.” Then with a flash of his perfect wicked smile, he disappeared back into the house.
Abby was still reeling from Andrew’s closeness to her
space, appalled at her lack of smoothness in reacting to the situation, as she cleaned up her mess. Ben soon came charging out on his way to pick up Tracey. He barked at Abby to make sure she was ready so they could make the ferry. Abby looked down at her condition and couldn’t believe Ben had just flown past her, like some male Wicked Witch, shouting orders like a drill sergeant. He hadn’t even noticed she was soaking wet, nor did he realize he had stepped over the bloody mess of a centipede.
As she was about to go inside, Andrew came racing out fast on Ben’s heels. He stopped long enough to address Abby before he jumped in the car.
“By the way, your bum?”
Abby’s mouth dropped open as she turned to face him. “What about my . . . bum?”
Andrew smiled that perfect and wicked smile one more time. “It’s quite lovely.” He then jumped in the car and the boys were off on their mission.
Abby shook her head, mortified that Andrew had seen her act so ridiculously. She didn’t have time to think about it long, though, because she needed to get ready. They had a ferry to catch if they were going to get to Nevis, and she was determined to be ready on time.
#
Unspoiled paradise. That was the one descriptive phrase that popped into Abby’s head as they drove from the ferry landing on Nevis to the Coconut Palm Plantation. Abby marveled at the lush tropical foliage as the car made its way around smooth elegant turns on an untouched parcel of land. Monkey Crossing signs appeared every few miles, as did produce and fruit stands with locals selling their wares. It was as if this beautiful island had been plucked right from a story and dropped down for them to discover, with houses, resorts and a few restaurants speckled amid the landscape. Where St. Kitts was clearly more geared toward the tourists that headed to escape to the Caribbean constantly, year-round, Nevis was its unshaken twin. Serene, peaceful and nurturing.
Abby was in heaven. She was so wrapped up in the visual stimulation of the island that she almost forgot about the equally stimulating Andrew. He had been smashed in next to her in the backseat for the whole trip, except for the forty-five minutes they were on the ferry and could get out of the car. While on the ferry trip, Abby had jumped out of the car as soon as they were allowed, saying she needed to stretch.
Abby spent the rest of the ferry ride talking about anything she could think of with Tracey so as not to get caught in a conversation with Andrew. Especially when she had nowhere to escape to because they were on a damn boat. Abby even waited until the last possible minute to get in the car so they would not be touching skin on skin for as long. She was begging silently to the universe to get her to her room so she could get her head together.
They were all not fully prepared for the beauty that was Coconut Palm Plantation. As they pulled in, the side parking lot kept the view of the hotel grounds partially hidden. There was a rundown sugar mill that had been preserved and still stood stoically at the entrance of the hotel. The main home itself resembled a Southern plantation. The house was from the 18th century and had a sprawling porch all around the second floor. The view from the porch overlooked the “Avenue of Palms,” a stretch of land that flowed from the main house down to the beach. It was there along the avenue that the cottages were situated, just a brief walk from the beach, pool and lounge areas. It was breathtaking.
As they were all finding their way to their cottages, Ben and Tracey found they knew quite a few people who were in the other cottages as well. Almost every small group they passed called out hello or asked where they were staying. It seemed this was the place to come for a study break, and Abby had a feeling it was going to be more of a party weekend for these guys than a “back-to-nature” getaway.
Ben’s cabin came first, and the trio went inside to get settled and changed. Abby skipped off to her cottage, excited at her chance to just lie out and relax.
Abby’s cottage was adorable. She had her own little porch, complete with a pull-out couch and a kitchen table. There was a coffeemaker, tea bags, scones and a fruit basket all sitting on the table welcoming her. Tucked in the basket was also a small bottle of rum, with a few bottles of fruit juice. A perfect welcome to the island hideaway!
Her bedroom was right beyond the sitting/porch area. There was a king-size bed, mosquito netting draped all around, and a fan spinning above the bed that looked like something straight out of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Its blades were made with palm fronds, and it spun slowly and rhythmically in the cool, quiet space. Abby was ecstatic. And what she was paying for both cottages for the night was such a dream compared to prices she would be paying if she were in the States. It was a win-win, like the fact she was able to pay for it with her casino winnings.
As she was getting changed, there was a knock at Abby’s door. Abby threw her sundress on over her suit, calling out “Come in” to her visitor. When she came out to the porch area, Ben was sitting at the table with a big grin spread over his face.
“I trust by that big-ass smile that you are pleased with our accommodations?” Abby put on her best fake British accent to amuse her brother.
“Dude! It’s like this honeymoon suite over there.” Ben was shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean, I’ve heard about this place, but I had no idea it would be so incredible.”
Abby peered on the other side of the bedroom door and smiled. “Yeah, I’ve got a nice little spot in there for when I lay my head down tonight. I have to say, I feel a touch guilty having all this space to myself.”
Ben nodded in agreement. “Which is why I thought I’d ask you a favor . . . ”
Abby groaned. She could see where this was going already. “I know I said I felt guilty, but I was really saying it only for effect.”
“I know. And I would not ask this if it wasn’t important to me. But Tracey and I really would like to have one night while we’re here to ourselves. Do you know what I mean?”
Yeah, I do, Abby thought. Hot, dirty, we-just-started-dating sex. “I have an idea. Go on.”
“Will you please let Andrew sleep on your pull-out couch? Just one night?”
Tracey appeared as if by magic at the screen door. “Abs, please know that we wouldn’t ask this, but . . . ”
Abby started to open her mouth, but Ben stopped her. “But I have a surprise roommate, and Tracey has two roommates. It would be cool to have some alone time.”
Abby couldn’t find an argument, nor did she feel like it.
“Just so you know,” Abby looked at both of them seriously, “if he snores at all and it wakes me up, I will smother him.”
Ben and Tracey grabbed Abby in a big hug before rushing out the door to go inform Andrew of the change in plans. Abby was not surprised at all when a few minutes later there was another knock at her door.
“I’d ask who it was, but I’m pretty sure it’s the guy who was just tossed out on his bum,” she threw at Andrew playfully.
“I haven’t seen the guy in ages and I get tossed to the side like a springbok on safari. Not that a springbok would ever get tossed, but you know what I mean.” He put down his bag and jerked his head toward the couch. “I take it that’s my spot?”
Abby nodded. “Yep. Bathroom is off the main bedroom. Please just don’t wake me up if you can help it. Snoring, door slamming, talking in your sleep . . . it’s all off-limits.”
Suppressing a smile, Andrew nodded his head and threw his bag on his new bed. “Well, that’s all settled. Ben said they’d be over to get us in a few minutes and then we could hit the beach.”
“Sounds good. I’m gonna go put a few more things away. Then, um, maybe they’ll be here.” Abby was already backing into her bedroom, more aware than ever of his commanding presence.
“Can I help?”
You bet you can, Abby caught herself thinking.
“No, that’s okay. I’ve got it,” she said as she closed the door behind her. She really didn’t have anything to put away, but she needed time now to gather her wits.
Abby began rearranging the few items she had alr
eady unpacked, taking them out of the drawers she had placed them in and refolding them while finding new homes for everything. Once that was done, she went into the bathroom and began organizing her toiletries so they were in order of use. Anything to keep from having time alone with . . .
“What are you doing?” The sound of his voice was not calming since he had just scared the absolute shit out of her. She jumped, screaming involuntarily at the same time.
“Andrew! Jesus! Do you understand people have heart attacks from fear?”
His wicked smile was back, playing on his lips. “Didn’t think you were that old, but okay, grandma, I apologize.”
Abby blew out a big huff of breath and stared him in the eyes. “What do you need?”
“Well, Ben said he’d be right back about fifteen to twenty minutes ago.”
Abby looked around the room for a clock, but in paradise there was no such thing as time. “Okay. And?”
“And . . . well, let’s see. If we were to add this up. They asked me to stay on your couch and not theirs. That’s one.” He held up his left-hand pointer finger for added effect. “Ben isn’t back, and it’s been quite awhile. That’s another one.” Now he used his right-hand pointer finger to show another “one.” “One plus one equals -- well, I’ll leave that up to your imagination.” Andrew tacked a smug smile onto the end of the sentence while wiggling his two fingers in the air at Abby.
Abby made a face. “That’s gross. I don’t want a visual of what may be happening in their room.” She groaned for emphasis. “Let’s just go to the beach. I’m sure they’ll find us.”
“When they come up for air they might. Until then, we can humor ourselves, right?”
“I guess we have to.” Abby walked over to the desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, writing out a note for Ben.
“Are you going to slide that under their door? Don’t you know one should never go a-knockin’ when the cottage is a-rockin’?”
Abby closed her eyes in mock horror. “Please. Stop. I really don’t need to even begin to think about . . . ”