by A. L. Parks
The door to the apartment opened, and Bryce flew through, his eyes searching the area for her. He closed the door behind him, and made his way to where she sat on the couch. Sitting on the edge of the coffee table across from her, he grasped her hands and kissed them.
"Bryce, I can't do this," she whimpered, as the tears fell once again.
"Can't do what, Abby? Marry me?" The hurt in his eyes nearly tore Abby's heart in two.
"I want to marry you so badly, Bryce. I just cannot go through with this wedding. I don't want the hundreds of people, the big wedding gown and bridesmaids and limos. And I really hate that church." Abby lowered her head in her hands and sobbed, "I am so sorry, Bryce. I just really, really do not want this wedding."
Bryce placed his hand under her chin and gently raised it, and wiped the tears from her face. "Okay, Abby, let's take a break from the wedding. We will postpone it until you feel ready." "But this is what you want," Abby whispered.
"No, baby. I don't want anything that is going to make you this miserable. We are supposed to be happy; but you are anything but happy. So, we will wait until you are happy."
"I will be happy - once we're married, Bryce. It's just this wedding...I can't do it."
"Then we wait, baby. I know you want to just run off to Vegas and get married, but I think you'll regret it someday - not having your family or friends around you. I think you will regret not having this experience. But I understand that it's too difficult right now, and bringing up a lot of horrible memories. I can wait, as long as we need to, until you're ready. And when you're happy, we will reconsider, okay?" Bryce took her face in his hands, and kissed her softly.
"Okay," Abby let out a long exhale. She knew it was selfish of her; Bryce wanted to marry her, and apparently wanted the big wedding Charlotte was planning. And now he was going to have to wait until Abby could get a hold of her emotions and move past the fears Trevor’s death had instilled in her.
"Okay, you go get freshened up, so I can take you out to dinner, and spoil you rotten." Bryce pulled her from the couch, turned her and playfully swatted her on the behind. "I'm going to call Charlotte, and tell her to put everything on hold." Abby turned to object, feeling horrible that he would have to deal with HER mother's abuse, but Bryce motioned for her to go as he placed the call. Guilt hit her square in the chest, and wrestled with the overwhelming relief that had taken over as soon as Bryce had told her they would stop planning the huge wedding.
***
Abby closed the door to the apartment, dropped her briefcase on the floor, tossed her purse onto the kitchen counter,
and looked around the room. Bryce stood in the family room at the small desk in the corner, going through the mail, and looked up at her. A big grin crossed Abby's face, as she stretched her arms over head in victory, "It's Friday!" she squealed.
Bryce chuckled, and tossed the mail onto the desk. Abby hurried over to him, and nearly jumped into his outstretched arms. It had been two weeks since they had called off the wedding, and Abby felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from the center of her chest. But in her joy, she sometimes noticed a pained look in Bryce's eyes. She had gotten what she wanted, sort of, but at what cost to Bryce? Had she truly considered his feelings in all this? They would be closer to being husband and wife, the one thing Abby wanted most in the world, yet she was elated that the wedding was "on hold."
She kissed him hard, embracing him as tightly as she could, and whispered, "I love you so much."
"Wow," Bryce answered, pulling back slightly to look into her face. "A guy could get used to these kinds of greetings."
"Well, you better get used to them then, baby, because you are going to get them for the rest of your life." They smiled at each other; big, silly grins. And Abby was lost in the gray brilliance of his eyes.
“How did it go with Sheila today?” Abby asked. She and Bryce had met with the CFO two nights earlier to go through her numbers. Sheila had been surprised that Abby was included in the meeting. By the time the meeting was over, Sheila Mercer was beyond shocked at the thoroughness of Abby’s investigation, and seemed more than a little flustered. Sheila promised she would have answers for Bryce in “a couple of days.”
“If these numbers are correct,” she added, and slid her narrowed eyes to Abby, “then I am as shocked by this as you are, Bryce. I assure you.” Abby bit her tongue to avoid snickering at
the woman.
“About as we expected,” Bryce sighed heavily, dropping his forehead against Abby’s. “I think it’s time to cut our losses, and find someone to take over for her.”
Abby’s heart thumped loudly in her chest. She tried to keep her breathing even. She wanted the Foundation job, but she absolutely refused to use her relationship with Bryce to get it. She knew he would never turn her down if she asked for it; but she wanted Bryce to offer her the job because he believed she was the right person for it.
“Are you going to start looking around? Try to hire someone before you let Sheila go?” Abby asked, trying to remain nonchalant while her stomach twisted in knots over the thought of someone else running Emily’s foundation into the ground for personal gain.
“It would be so much easier if the person I wanted for the job would just agree to take it. They already have in-depth knowledge of the charity and the issues, and could probably step in and make a difference on day one. But I don’t know if they are willing to take this on. They seem to care about the foundation a great deal…so it would be the perfect fit.”
“Well, then it seems like a no brainer,” she whispered, but her disappointment was coming out in her ratcheted breathing. “If you’re right, then you just need to ask this person, and then take it from there. You may be worrying over it for nothing.”
“You’re right. I should just ask,” Bryce said, and pulled away from her. “Abby, would you take over the CFO position at the Foundation? I understand if you want to think about it…”
Abby lunged at Bryce, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Of course I want the position!” she cried, while giving him kisses all over his face.
Bryce laughed, “And here I was worried I would have to convince you.” Abby looked into his eyes and smiled at the love and appreciation that radiated from him. She placed her lips on his. His hand moved to the back of her head, and his fingers twisted in her hair, and they stayed there for a long moment.
"So," Abby loosened her hold on his neck, "what time are dinner reservations?"
"Yeah, about that," he responded, drawing out the words. "Slight change of plans. We are going to have to cancel dinner with Rob and Becca."
"What? Why?" she whined. They always had such a great time with them, and Abby wanted to celebrate her new job.
"Something came up, and I have to pack," Bryce answered cryptically. Abby's face dropped.
"Where are you going?"
"Same place you are, so you better get packed also." He tried to keep a serious look about him, but a smile slid across his face.
"Totally confused here, Holden," Abby sighed, more than a little intrigued.
Bryce pulled an envelope from the desk and handed it to Abby. "We are leaving really, really early in the morning for Aruba." Abby froze in the process of opening the envelope. She looked at Bryce, eyes wide, disbelieving what she had just heard. "That is, unless you don't want to go?" Bryce asked, feigning disappointment and hurt feelings.
Abby squealed, and grabbed ahold of his neck tightly once again, placing random kisses over the side of his face. Bryce
chuckled, as Abby squirmed away from him and ran into the bedroom, singing, "I'm going to Aruba! I'm going to Aruba!"
Abby spent the remainder of the night going through her summer wardrobe, wishing she had time to run to a few boutiques to update her bikini and some other items. But Bryce insisted that she wait until they got to Aruba, and indulge in some island shopping. Finally falling into bed, Abby tossed and turned all night, excitement running rampant through her at
the prospect of spending a week alone with Bryce on a tropical island.
Chapter Thirteen
"Wake up, sleepyhead," Bryce's voice was soft against her ear. Abby slowly lifted herself off his chest, as her mind attempted to assimilate to her surroundings. Bryce stood in the aisle of the airplane, and pulled their carry-on bags from the overhead compartment. Aruba. They had landed, and Abby had slept for most of the flight.
The hot air hit her as soon as she ascended down the steps that led to the tarmac. Turning to Bryce, they made their way to the interior of the airport. She grabbed her carry-on from his shoulder, and they walked arm-in-arm in search of the remainder of their luggage, and a cab to the hotel.
The cab driver handed their bags over to the concierge, as he came out to greet them. Abby took in the exterior of the hotel, with its large Mediterranean architecture, red tiled roof, and open second floor verandas. Bryce grabbed her hand and led her into the lobby to check in. The floors were an off-white travertine, which contrasted spectacularly against the black trim and columns. The furnishings were contemporary, with cream-colored cushions on black-framed loveseats. A few round wicker chairs with large, thick cushions were interspersed throughout the open area.
A man in a white short-sleeved shirt with an embroidered design down the front, and khaki shorts placed their bags on a cart, and escorted them through the lobby and into a courtyard. The main building housed a large open dining area, smaller conversation areas, and a bar that ran the length of an entire wall. A gold plaque with black writing and an arrow pointed the way down a long hall towards a spa.
They pulled the sunglasses from the tops of their heads to block the glaring sun, and followed the man, who had introduced himself as Chet. Abby noticed a swimming pool that looked more like a mirage, with the ocean as a backdrop. Chet stepped onto a
deck that wrapped around the front of a small bungalow, and unlocked the door, before stepping out of the way to allow Bryce and Abby to enter.
Stepping through the large sliding glass doors, Abby stood in a small living room with a couch and flat screen TV. Just beyond the living room was a small kitchen, with a table large enough for two people. Abby entered the bedroom suite, which had a king-sized bed and a chaise lounge. Across the back of the room was another set of sliding glass doors that led out to the wraparound deck. Abby pulled open the doors and stepped out as a warm breeze caught her hair. Off to her right were three steps leading down to the beach. Abby leaned against the railing and took in a deep, cleansing breath. The heat, mixed with the salt air, was an elixir, relaxing her.
Bryce came up next to her and leaned against the rail, and took in the same deep breath Abby had just released. "Wow," he marveled, "that is some view, huh?"
"It’s amazing," Abby responded, equally in awe.
"So, what shall we do first? Beach, pool, food? Or would you rather take a nap?" Bryce turned slightly toward her.
"No nap. I slept on the plane, and even if I hadn't, I doubt I could lie still long enough to actually fall asleep. I am way too excited. So, how about we go check out the pool? Maybe get some sun on this deathly white skin of mine. I am sure to blind a few people before I get a halfway decent tan. Sound good?" Abby asked, still captivated by the blue ocean.
"As long as I get to rub sunscreen on you - all over you," his voice dropped, as he pulled his sunglasses down seductively, and gazed at her.
Abby giggled, "It's a requirement," and walked into the bedroom to change.
They walked into the pool area, and were quickly met by a young man, in the same uniform Chet had been wearing. Aman, according to his nametag, asked Bryce if they would prefer separate lounge chairs or a pool bed. Bryce looked over at Abby, who shrugged and then answered, "Pool bed."
The pool bed was an over-sized lounge chair, big enough for three people to comfortably lay on, with a thick white cushion and a pillow roll that stretched the length of the headboard. It was a foot away from the edge of the sparkling blue pool. Aman took the couple's drink order and headed towards the outdoor bar.
Abby untied the cover-up from around her waist, and slid onto the bed. Bryce pulled his shirt over his head, leaned over and kissed her shoulder. "Are you going to be sunning your front or back first, baby?" he asked, pulling the sunscreen from the beach bag.
"Front," Abby stated. Bryce poured the lotion onto his hands and then worked it into her legs, arms, across her abdomen, finishing with her chest.
Lying next to her, he whispered, "I am really going to enjoy ensuring you do not get skin cancer on this trip." Abby laughed, and turned her head to kiss Bryce. Aman returned with their drinks, and set them on the table next to Bryce. Abby sat up as Bryce handed her a large glass of pineapple juice and rum.
"Cheers," he said, and clinked his glass with hers.
"Cheers, and thank you so much for this, Babe," Abby responded as she took a sip of her drink.
"Just doing what I can to make sure you're happy," Bryce grinned at her.
Abby set her drink down, and rolled onto her side, perched on her elbow. Euphoria enveloped her, and she beamed at him. She was happy. Excessively happy. Ridiculously happy. Only one thing was missing, and she wondered if the part that was missing - their wedding - was having a negative effect on Bryce.
"Are you happy, Bryce?" She asked, and gazed at him without blinking.
"Of course I am. Do I look the least bit unhappy?" he asked, as a wide silly grin spread across his face. His hand moved to her hip, and rested there.
"No," she answered. "But I feel guilty that my issues with the past are getting in the way of our wedding. It's not fair to you that my inability to just get over my fears means you have to wait until I can."
"I would wait for you forever," Bryce responded, and leaned in and kissed her. "Besides, this is our vacation. No wedding talk. Everything will work itself out, Abby. And I promise you - I am very, very happy." He pulled her against his smoldering body, and kissed her, as his hand moved up her back. His tongue slipped into her mouth. She relaxed against him, lost in him, and completely oblivious that they were in full view of others at the pool.
When he loosened his grip on her, and pulled his mouth away, she took a deep breath. Her mind was swimming, and her body was tingling, and she suddenly could not remember what had been bothering her just moments before. He had completely and totally distracted her, and she wondered if she could convince him to take her back to their room, and distract her fully, a few more times.
Showered and in a clean pair of shorts and flowing tank top, Abby entered the living room. Bryce opened the sliding door and they made their way to the main building for dinner. Swinging their hands as they walked along the sidewalk, Abby stole a sideways glance at Bryce. The humidity had added more wave to his black hair, giving him a messy mop that rivaled any top male model gracing the covers of magazines. He had a little bit of stubble against his sun-kissed face. Bryce looked over at her and caught her staring at him, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Her arm went around his waist as she nuzzled her head against his shoulder.
"Happy?" he asked.
Abby lifted her head to look into his face. "I’m always happy when I’m with you, Bryce. Always."
The maître’d pushed Abby's chair in as she sat, and moved around to whisper in Bryce's ear. Bryce nodded at the man, and then leaned over to kiss Abby. "I'll be right back," he murmured in her ear, and left before she could inquire as to where he was going.
When he returned, he sat and began looking over the menu. "What looks good, baby?" Abby stared at him, not answering. He raised his eyes from the menu, and looked at her, as she widened her eyes, and cocked her head to one side.
"What was that all about?" she asked suspiciously.
Bryce smiled, and held her gaze. "Nothing important. They just needed to verify how long we were staying. Some computer glitch or something, and they lost the reservation, so they wanted to talk to me."
"And that dictated whispering in your ear?" Ab
by asked, her head now cocked to the other side.
"Probably didn't want to worry the little lady over such manly details. Stop being so suspicious, and help me figure out what to eat. I can't decide between the salmon or the swordfish," he said, and averted his attention back onto the menu. She stared at him for a minute longer, as he continued to smile to himself, and Abby knew he was keeping a secret from her. She finally gave up trying to get the truth out of him. Bryce looked happy, and any surprise he was planning would inevitably make Abby just as happy.
"I was thinking of getting the swordfish, so if you get the salmon, we can share," she answered him, and felt a smile cross her face. She knew he was peering at her over the top of his menu, making sure she was not dwelling on his secretive mission to the front desk. And Abby could not help the rush of excitement that ran amuck through her body at the prospect of whatever Bryce had planned next.
***
The light filtered in through the sheer white curtains, bathing the room in subdued sunlight. Bryce was lying next to Abby with his arm across her midsection. They had fallen asleep after making love the night before, and the sheets were twisted and wrapped around their legs. Abby ran her fingers through Bryce's hair, as his eyes opened and focused on her. "Good morning, Handsome," she greeted him.
Bryce rose up on his arm, moving his hand from her abdomen to her face, running his fingers into the hair on the side of her head. His lips found hers and pressed against them passionately, sending waves of pleasure throughout Abby's body before releasing her and gazing into her eyes. "Good morning, Gorgeous."