Wet Part 3

by Rivera, S. Jackson

  “A few?” He chuckled. Her plan worked. “You’re going to get er-really fat putting up with my shit.” Still holding her by the sides of her face, he leaned in for a tender kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes remained closed. “Rhees, I wouldn’t care if you gained a thousand pounds. I just need you to promise me—” His eyes opened and she saw the plea looming in the stormy blue. “—Promise you’ll never run so far away that I can’t get to you.”

  “I promise,” she choked out.

  “Thank you.” He kissed her again and held his lips there longer than last time. “One more thing,” he said against her mouth in the middle of the kiss.

  She groaned, pulling herself away from his mouth. “That was a really big one, Paul. That one is worth at least fifty promises.”

  “I know, but this is important too.” He gave her a raised-eyebrow, fatherly look. “It’s that potty mouth of yours.”

  She laughed, sure he was just kidding. He didn’t look like he was and she finally inhaled sharply, insulted.

  “You swear all the time. You can’t sit there and tell me not to sw—”

  He made another parental, shushing face while he squeezed her cheeks between his thumb and fingers so that her lips puckered. He kissed them again to muffle her objections, the objections still coming from her squashed together, duck-billed lips.

  “That’s right. I swear all the God-damned, fucking, shit, I’m going to hell, time.” His lips twitched and joined forces with his eyes, which bore into hers, making her forget to breathe. He didn’t release her from his grasp or his gaze. “I’ve been working on that. Since you came into my life, I don’t want to swear so much anymore, but I’ve been doing it for a long time. It might take a while, but I promise, I’ll work harder on that.”

  He finally let go but still held her gaze with a tilt of his head. He gave her the vulnerable little-boy look that had become her weakness.

  “But you—you only swear at me, or because of me. That’s an honor I could live without. It reminds me of the bad influence I am on you. I don’t like seeing you becoming like me.”

  “Huh.” She looked out over the water, thoughtfully. It took time to think about it, call on her memory, trying to decide if it was true. She frowned. “Wow, I see what you mean.”

  She thought some more. “Bearing that in mind, knowing that bit of information will help. I promise to work on it too, but . . .” She struggled. “But if you really expect me to promise I’ll never swear at you again, knowing how meaningful promises are to you, I can only make it if—” She sighed.

  “The only way I could keep that one is if you can promise to never make me so crazy that I feel the need to swear, because you really, more than any other person, you know how to push my buttons!” She’d worked herself up.

  “Ditto!” he snapped, worked up too. He closed his eyes and manipulated his mouth a few more times. He exhaled in resignation. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to it—learn to live with my wife—the sailor.” There was a pause between them before he burst into laughter and pounced on her, holding her down, playfully.

  “But expect to have your mouth washed out, regularly.” He commenced assaulting her mouth thoroughly with his tongue, teasingly, expecting her to be repulsed, but she, not only didn’t mind, she gave back.

  “Hey,” Paul eventually whispered against her lips when he tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t have it. “We’re not married, yet.”

  “We will be.”

  “But we’re not. We’ve waited this long, I don’t want to ruin everything—after all this time, I don’t want to ruin it.”

  “Paaauul,” she whined. “We’re engaged. I’ve never felt this way before. Let’s seize the moment.”

  He exhaled, frustrated and torn. He’d love to do just that, but they were so close. He hadn’t come this far to blow it now.

  “Valentine’s Day,” he mouthed and kissed her one more passionate time. He pulled himself away and sat up, patiently ignoring her tirade–and begging.

  “You’re such a pruuude!” she taunted in a whiny voice.

  “Yeah, people call me that all the time—my middle name.”

  “What is your middle name?” She sat up and leaned on her elbows, wondering how she’d missed that.

  “William.”

  “Seriously?” She laughed. “The irony. We really are meant to be together.”

  He forced a smile, but he’d never believe that. He loved her, wanted her, and he’d selfishly do everything in his power to keep her, but he’d never believe she was meant for him, not in a million years.

  Chapter 2

  Randy showed up at the shop as usual, but instead of heading straight for the boat, he stopped in the office to make an announcement.

  “I’m going ta be a gran pappy!” He sounded so proud. “Livia’s going ta have a kid.”

  “She’s only fifteen.” Rhees didn’t hide her shock.

  “Yeah, she’s fifteen and now I’m going ta be a gran pappy,” he said proudly.

  “She’s just a baby herself, how can you—” Rhees had started to share her opinion on the matter when Paul threw his arms around her and kissed her, trying to make it look like playful fun. His surprise, affectionate attack left her feeling off balance. He broke away from her lips long enough to smile warmly at Randy. “Congratulations, Randy. You’re officially an old man.”

  Randy balked good-naturedly and walked out of earshot, chuckling and agreeing about life moving along too fast. Paul pulled Rhees around to the compressor room while she resumed her rant about Randy’s horrible announcement and how Olivia’s life was ruined.

  “How can he be so proud about his young, unwed daughter having a baby?”

  “You need to calm down. It’s just the culture here. The girls start running around in their early teens and start popping babies out. Grandma and Grandpa raise the babies while mom goes out and has fun. About the time her kids start running around, mom finally gets married and settles down so she can raise the kids her daughters are popping out.”

  “But Olivia is just a little girl herself,” Rhees cried out, almost in tears. The Williams family on the island treated her like one of their own. Their unconditional acceptance made it impossible not to feel fondness for every one of them.

  “I know.” Paul kissed the top of her head while he held her. “The culture is different than what we’re used to, but it’s not all bad. You’ve seen how strong family is here. They stick together, and it all somehow works for them. It’s not bad, it’s different, that’s all.”

  oOo

  Dive shops get busy during the holidays. People have time off and they want to get away from home. Paradise Divers booked almost more than they could handle from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day. Rhees, with the help of Miranda’s oven, made a delicious, as close as she could get it, Thanksgiving dinner for some of the North Americans on the island and the shop guests that week, a young family of five from Colorado.

  Rhees used the family to try out her new Kid’s Club idea. She kept the too-young-to-dive kids entertained while their parents went out on the boat each day. It worked so well, she decided to advertise the service to attract more families to the shop, and it did. They booked another family of seven at Christmas.

  “You’re amazing,” Paul said of her talent for attracting new business to his shop, and when he saw how much fun the kids had with her, he added, “the little herders are as much in love with you as I am.”

  When the larger family arrived, he volunteered to stay and help her with the challenging task of keeping five active children engaged. They loved him too, or at least the little girl did. Paul insisted the boys just wanted more rides on the wave runners. He said he didn’t understand why, since he wouldn’t go faster than a snail’s pace with the kids on board, and that it was boring.


  Two of the boys were old enough to be certified, but weren’t, and that gave Rhees another idea. She’d heard Paul talk about being shipped off to sea camp several summers during his early teens. He certified as an open water diver the first year there, and has loved diving ever since. He loved Rhees’ idea of having their own sea camp, talked to the parents, and wound up having both boys certified in time to dive the last day with their parents. The parents vowed to bring the whole family back every year another kid turned ten so they could get certified too.

  oOo

  Paul and Rhees had finally cleaned up, shared an intimate dinner, and were ready to spend their first Christmas Eve together, quietly. Tracy and Regina had flown to England to visit Tracy’s family, leaving the betrothed couple to themselves in their apartment, without Regina ogling Paul to the point of discomfort.

  They snuggled on the couch, watching the lighted bush Paul had found for Rhees, the closest thing he could find to a Christmas tree.

  “I miss the fireplace on Christmas Eve.” Rhees rested her head against his shoulder, lazily running her fingers over his Adam’s apple.

  “I wish I’d known. I could have figured something out, maybe a bonfire on the beach.”

  She smiled and turned her head up to look at him. “No. Just being here with you, this is the best Christmas—” Sadness filled her eyes.

  “Hey.” He pulled her closer. “Still thinking about your brother?” Paul had hired a private investigation firm to find Perry, intending to do whatever it took to get him to the wedding. They’d traced him to San Francisco and found he’d died a few years after leaving home, of AIDS, or complications due to an HIV infection.

  They could only assume her parents knew and never told anyone, including Rhees. She wanted to believe they were protecting her. Paul believed it had more to do with being ashamed to find out their son was gay, probably the reason they’d fought with him so often. He believed Perry most likely gave up and ran away to someplace he could find acceptance.

  “Maybe a little.” She shrugged. “Mostly just comparing this Christmas to last . . . are you sure you don’t want your sister at the wedding?”

  “Yeah. It’s not that I don’t want her here, but I don’t think she’d come without telling my parents. I already find myself suspicious of every guest we book, wondering if my father’s hired them to spy on me.”

  “He’d really do that?”

  “’Fraid so.”

  Paul would rather focus on Rhees than discuss his family. He knew her dad had passed away the year before and she’d had to spend the holidays alone. He hugged her with a gentle squeeze. “You’ll never have to spend Christmas alone again, as long as I have anything to say about it.”

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you more.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “Do too.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Do!”

  They both laughed. He would go on forever . . . she gave up, she always did, first.

  “You’re such a stinker,” she said.

  “Am not.”

  She feigned a frustrated growl and squeezed him back with a giggle.

  “We should open presents tonight.” Once again, Paul demonstrated how impatient he could be.

  “No. It’s Christmas Eve. Can’t open presents until Christmas Day.”

  “But you know tomorrow’s going to be busy. You may have to wait until late.”

  “I don’t mind.” She played along, knowing his concerns really didn’t center on her. “We won’t be busy right up until midnight. There’ll be time, even if it ends up being late . . . really, really, reeally late—”

  “You love using my disdain for anticipation against me, don’t you? Are you sure this isn’t just some passive-aggressive revenge for making you wait to get married?”

  “No, I’m not sure. The only way to know is to move the date up.” She looked up at him and bounced her eyebrows up and down.

  He pulled her closer and kissed her long and hard but had to break it off before things got any steamier. The new, no longer as fearful of all things sexual, Rhees had been driving him to the brink, and he feared what would happen if he reached his limit. He glanced at the tree, or the presents sitting underneath, distracting himself, and He, from their most recent thoughts.

  “Pleeease?” he mouthed, flashing a sidelong, sad-eyed puppy-dog look, the saddest look he could manage. It’d almost killed Paul to wait to give her his present, at least one of them. He’d been trying to tempt her to open it since the day he bought it, but she refused. He’d had enough anticipation.

  “Okay, but just this once. From now on, we wait until Christmas Day.”

  “I’m still wondering where my real present is, because that beautifully wrapped box under the Christmas bush has nothing in it but a package of store-bought spaghetti. I know you wouldn’t really give me pawsta for Christmas.”

  “I can believe you peeked!” She giggled, saying it as if she’d said the opposite of what she did. “Just imagine the delicious meal I’ll be able to cook for you with that.” She slugged his arm. “I knew you’d look.”

  “So, did you get me a real present or nawt?” he asked, rubbing his arm.

  Her mouth gaped open, almost convincing him the pasta might really be his present. He felt bad for making her think she’d given him a stupid gift, but about the time he wanted to kick himself, her mouth twisted into a sly smile. She stood and unlocked the door to Tracy and Regina’s room.

  “Gotcha!” she said before she slipped inside and returned with another wrapped package. She looked pleased with herself for outmaneuvering him. “Tracy left her key with me.”

  “No way! I tried to sweet-talk Reggie into admitting you were keeping it in their room. She said she didn’t never know nothing about it.” Paul imitated Regina’s accent. “—And I believed her—the traitor.” The idea of losing Regina’s loyalty concerned him and he scowled.

  “I’m losing my touch,” he mumbled.

  “Relax. You haven’t lost anything as far as Regina is concerned. It wasn’t in Regina’s room when you asked,” Rhees said, and he felt better, even though she gave him a scolding look, showing how busted he was for trying so hard to find his present. “She didn’t know about it until the day she left—and for the record, after we’re married, if you use your Kaa eyes on any other woman but me, I’ll rip them out of your head and get them mounted and framed. They’re mine. I’m the only one you’re allowed to hypnotize with them, do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed sheepishly but then smiled gloriously as he jumped up to pull her gifts out from under the tree. He sat back down next to her with bubbly enthusiasm, resting them on his lap, fidgeting with the one he was most excited about.

  “Okay, so how do we do this?” she asked. “We’re starting a family tradition here, our first Christmas together.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way we do it this year will set the precedent for years to come. Do we open our gifts at the same time? Or shall one of us open while the other watches? Do we take turns, you open one and then I open one?”

  “I didn’t know there were so many ways to do it? How’ve you always done it?”

  “My dad would wake us up early—like, one o’clock in the morning, early.” The smile on her face warmed Paul’s heart. “Anyone who knew him would never guess, but he was such a little kid at Christmastime.

  “Anyway, we’d all gather around the tree and dad would start handing gifts out, one at a time. He’d just reach under the tree and whoever the package was for, we’d watch them open it, and then dad would reach for another until they were all opened. There were only the four of us . . . and then three . . .”

  Paul put his arm around her an
d kissed the top of her head, knowing she’d just thought about her brother again. It would take a while before her memories of him stopped making her sad. She’d only recently been able to recount memories of her parents without choking up. She cleared her throat.

  “We didn’t have much money, so it didn’t take long. I don’t know how practical that would be for a larger family.”

  “At my house, it was a free for all. When I was younger, things were different. My brother, sister, and I were inseparable.” He’d intended to steer her away from thoughts of Perry but wound up on a topic that suddenly left him feeling his own sense of loss.

  “But once we moved to Florida, everything changed. Pete and Mare got up extra early one year but didn’t bother to wake me. When I did finally get up, they’d opened all my presents for me—colored all the pages of my coloring book.” He shrugged with a reminiscent grin and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t mean to give her a reason to feel sorry for him.

  “That’s probably when I started snooping and opening presents before Christmas.”

  “Okay,” she said, aghast. His plan had worked. “Christmas rule number one. No one opens any presents until the whole family is there. Not even you!”

  Paul frowned, but then looked apologetic. “You and making me wait,” he said under his breath. He didn’t miss the roll of her eyes. “Here.” He handed her one of his gifts. “Open mine first. I already know what you got me.”

  The look on her face made him regret teasing her. “I don’t, really. I was just teasing you.”

  It didn’t help. She was sure he was lying to make her feel better.

  “Honest! Okay, so yeah, I peeked at the one under the tree, and that’s how I knew there had to be another present around here—and I would have peeked—I tried my darnedest to find it, but I never did.” He made sure she noticed the remorse in his eyes and then tapped the gift she held for him, alternating between looking at her and the present.