by Alexis Anne
“Are they nice and sweet?”
He popped one in his mouth. “Oh yeah.” His dimple popped as he smiled.
“Then yes.”
He handed me the bunch and finished unpacking the bag the resort made for our picnic lunch. After our swim we walked back to the falls for the bag, laid out the blanket, and began soaking up the sun as we dried.
All in all, it was a pretty magical day so far.
“Was it even a question?”
“Was what a question?” I asked as I rolled over.
“The grapes.”
I shrugged. “I have sensitive taste buds. A lot of fruit is either too tart or too sweet for me to enjoy. My mouth gets all crazy and all of a sudden I’m like that.” I waved at the waterfall, swallowing as my mouth filled with saliva just from the thought.
“Interesting.”
“I take it you love fruit.”
He tossed the bag into the grass and joined me on his stomach. “Yep. I used to get in trouble for eating too much in the fields.”
Oh, that’s right. Cowboy was probably raised on a farm or a ranch or something. “Why would you get in trouble?”
“Well for one, because half the time I picked the best ones and our . . . ” his voice faded away. He cleared his throat, glancing away. “Let’s just say it ruined a dinner or two when I ate the main ingredients.”
It was so interesting that I wanted to know why he stopped midsentence. That I cared about that little piece of information he decided to withhold. I shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t matter. And yet, I felt this tug to know more. I brushed his hair back and gave it a playful tug. “And for two?”
“Two?”
“You said, ‘Well for one’ so I assumed there was a second reason you got in trouble for eating in the fields.”
He blushed. “Oh yeah. The other reason was because sometimes I wouldn’t eat my dinner.”
“Too full?” I laughed.
“Stomach ache. It’s amazing what an entire bucket of berries will do to you. Or tomatoes. Or a bushel of apples.”
“Are you secretly a vegetarian?” I couldn’t imagine a man with that much natural muscle built it all on fruits and veggies.
“Not on a cattle ranch,” he winked. “But I did have a very natural, well balanced diet. Still do.”
“When you aren’t eating all the crops.”
His eyes unfocused. “I should probably do it more. Work less, enjoy the thing I take for granted.”
“You only live once. Don’t waste it on work when you could be eating grapes off the vine.”
He stared at me like I was a magical fairy that had just flitted out of the bushes. “You’re quite the optimist.”
I used to be. Maybe I was finding it again. “I learned a long time ago that life is what you choose to make it. You can be miserable if you focus on all the negative, or you can be happy and focus on the good.”
He seemed to consider that for a moment. “I think I focus on both, but someone has to keep the lights on and food on the table.”
“At the expense of your life?” I wasn’t an expert but most people who worked obsessively also worked themselves into early graves.
But that wasn’t what I meant. Not specifically.
“What are you working for if you don’t get to be happy?” I realized that I needed to take my own advice.
His eyes unfocused again. I wondered where he went in his mind each time he did that. “So the people I love can be happy,” he said simply, still not looking at me.
The sentiment hit me hard. He cared deeply—at his own expense. “How old are you, Colt?” He couldn’t be that much older than me, which meant he was rather young to have the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Thirty-two.”
“And how long have you been in charge of everyone’s happiness?”
His eyes snapped back to mine. “Specifically? Or will an estimate suffice?”
I don’t know what possessed me. “Specifically.” There was something. A trigger. An event that had pushed him into this position.
“Eighteen. But,” he blinked away the darkness that had clouded his eyes, “I am who I am. I think I’ve been trying to keep things together since I was about twelve or thirteen. Started working for the company from the bottom up at sixteen.”
“I think you take on too much, Colt.” I wiggled closer to him on my back so that I was lying with my lips just below his. “Your sister pushed you into this vacation, right?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes locked on mine with a thousand questions.
I gave a little nervous shrug. “That sounds a lot to me like a sister who is worried about her brother’s happiness and wellbeing.”
He didn’t deny it. I felt the full intensity of his emotions as his gaze remained locked on mine. It was too much. I held my breath while I waited for him to say something. I hoped I was right. Everyone needed someone in their corner, pushing for happiness.
“Look at this.” I pointed up. He hesitated but followed along, lying down beside me so that our heads were touching.
“What am I looking at exactly?”
“The trees. See the way they’re dancing in the wind? We can’t even feel it all the way down here. We can’t hear it, the falls drown it out. But we can see it. Isn’t that amazing?”
I waited for him to brush me off—it wouldn’t be the first time. Some people enjoyed my tangents but most weren’t able to see the simply beauty. Maybe it was too basic. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I saw it and I’d keep sharing it because sometimes . . . well sometimes it mattered.
“Are you always like this?”
I stiffened. “Like what?” Crazy? Silly?
“Brilliant.”
My breath caught at the admiration in his voice. “Brilliant? I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that.” Untalented, freeloading, wannabe. I heard those all the time. But brilliant was new.
I liked it.
“To notice that,” he continued, “while having a conversation . . . that’s some serious observational skills, plus to process it. I guess that’s what artists do, though.”
“Yeah.” Artists . . . Just not the kind you’re thinking of.
CHAPTER 7
Our flight was just after lunch the next day and Colt had already planned to keep me in bed until the last possible moment, so we agreed to dinner with Ted and Charley as our farewell meal.
I didn’t truly believe Ted was in love until I saw it with my own two eyes. I don’t think I wiped the shock off my face the whole evening.
“You keep looking at me weird.”
“That’s because you’ve been snatched and replaced with an alien,” I said when Charley and Colt were deep in conversation about The Beatles. Apparently Charley thought they were overrated and Colt disagreed.
“I’ve not been replaced. It’s me in here. I’m just a different person than I was two days ago.”
No shit. My Ted was my lovely, albeit selfish, best friend. This man sitting beside me was ready to lay down the shirt on his back if it meant Charley didn’t walk through mud.
It didn’t make sense. “How can you be different than you were two days ago? What happened?”
He shrugged. “It was like the moment she walked by my whole life finally made sense. I knew why I was alive and why I’d been so unhappy.”
I cocked my eyebrow because what? “Just from her walking by?”
“It was everything. The way she held herself, the way she smirked at me, the way her body is exactly what makes my dick sit up and take notice. She was made for me and I now know I’ve been waiting my whole life for her to give it purpose.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the sign of a bad relationship.”
“Whatever.” He grabbed his bourbon and shot half of it back. “You’re one to talk.”
“I’m exactly the same person I was when I got here.”
“No you’re not.”
I glared at him. “In what way am I dif
ferent?”
I knew immediately he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to unleash all his ideas on me. I’d known Ted long enough that I should have seen the signs. Yet, somehow I didn’t.
Maybe I really was different.
“For one, you’re smiling again.”
“Smiling does not make me different. It makes me happy.”
“True,” he conceded, “however it was merely my jumping off point. Since you met Colt you’ve been happy, positive, and hopeful, all good things that you used to be. However you’re something more now, too.”
More. I liked the idea that when someone good came into your life they made you more.
“And how is that?”
“I’m not exactly sure yet. You care about him. Seeing you openly give a shit about someone is nice. And, well, I think you’re hungrier than I’ve ever seen you.”
“Hungry?” Apparently I was just repeating everything Ted said.
“Ummm. . . ” He cupped his chin and looked up at me with his big brown producer’s eyes. The kind that always sized up the talent as if they were props that could be disposed of. “You’re ready. You want, and you’re willing to do what it takes to get it. Like this part in my movie. You wanted it, but I think it was out of desperation to stay afloat. You’re not desperate like you were when we got here. You’ve found your focus again. You want this part because you want to act and to tell a story that moves people.”
He was right about that. Was it Colt that helped me find that? Maybe.
“What are you two yammering about with your big eyes over there?” Charley grabbed Ted’s arm and dragged him over for a kiss. “Ted tells me you two are inseparable and that I’ll just have to get used to it.”
Colt stiffened beside me.
“You two are going to keep seeing each other?” How had I not realized that would be a thing? Probably because I was in my own little anonymous bubble.
“Of course, Princess. I’m in love, remember?”
Charley rolled he eyes. “He thinks he’s in love. I think he’s a really great lay. One I won’t mind having back home.”
“You live . . . near us?”
She nodded. “Just on the other side of—”
“So when is your flight?” I cut her off before she could say anything else about our real lives.
She glanced at Colt and realized her mistake. “Sorry. Yeah. Forgot you two were keeping things simple. My flight is just a few hours after yours. I was hoping we could all take the ferry over to the airport together tomorrow.”
“Of course.” It took a good two hours to make it from our private island to the main island and into the airport. It would make sense for the two of them to stay together.
While Colt wouldn’t leave for another day.
“So what will you do without us to entertain you?” Ted asked.
Colt sat stock still, his eyes slowly raking over to mine. I saw a million things in that look. Yearning for another day. To know more. Sadness that he was going back to being alone on this island without me.
“I’ll probably eat and drink my way into oblivion.”
“That’s the spirit!” Ted called. “No sense in going back to work sober.”
Ted dominated the conversation with a rousing story about a man he met in Greece who rented his yacht to royalty. Somewhere between the beginning of the story and his detailed description of the man’s décor choices, I found a hand wrapped around mine.
I glanced over at my date. He wasn’t looking at me. His full attention was directed at Ted and Charley. But as he gave me a comforting squeeze I knew it wasn’t just for me.
He needed it too.
* * *
I COULDN’T SLEEP. No amount of hiking or bedroom gymnastics could make me fall asleep, apparently. My body was exhausted but my mind wouldn’t stop. Not with the way Colt had me wrapped around him, holding me in place like he enjoyed it every bit as much as I did.
Maybe I didn’t want to sleep because I knew it was the last time I wouldn’t be alone for a while. Even when I did have “company” it was rare that it was as nice as this. Okay scratch that. I’d never had company this nice before. Colt was funny, warm, and generous. He was great in bed and enjoyable outside of it, too. Plus there was this. Just dozing off in his arms was so relaxing and peaceful.
There definitely wouldn’t be relaxing or peaceful after this.
Nor would anything be this sexy.
So yeah, I was up hours later than I should be, soaking up every moment I could before my vacation became a memory.
“You’re awake, aren’t you?” he said just loud enough to be heard over the waves crashing outside the open bungalow windows.
“Yes.”
“Why?” His fingers began to lazily stroke my arm. It was soothing. He was soothing.
“Can’t sleep. Why are you awake?”
He paused, his fingers near my shoulders, before he changed direction and moved to my hair. “I don’t really know. I don’t usually have trouble sleeping.”
Knowing he was having the same problem filled my chest with warmth. “We should be exhausted.”
He made a grunt of agreement. “Are you ready to go home?”
“No.”
Another grunt. “I need to go back. I can’t believe I left things for this long . . . ” Then he kissed the top of my head. It sent electricity racing over my skin. My heart pounded. “But the last thing I want to do is go back.” He shifted, sliding down beside me so that we were nose to nose on our sides. “I want another day like this.”
“Just one?”
“Five. Fifty. Why can’t real life be like this?”
God he was handsome. Even in the shadows of the night. The moon cast the faintest glow through the white curtains, lighting the side of his face up enough for me to admire. He’d shaved this morning so there was a decent layer of stubble on his rugged chin now. His nose was long and narrow but not perfect. When I got to his eyes I froze. He was waiting for me. Waiting with a look so desperate for me it overwhelmed every thought in my head.
“I forgot what you just asked.”
“Why can’t real life be like this?” he whispered, hoarse.
Raw. He was raw. His eyes, his words—everything—stripped bare, down to his soul, for me.
“Responsibilities.”
He swallowed. “Right now I don’t care about any of them.” He brushed his lips over mine. “I’m fucking miserable. Day in and day out I work myself to death for all of them. Why?”
I didn’t know the answer to that. “You love them?”
His eyes pinched at the corners. With pain? Sadness? “I’m starting to wonder if it’s enough.” He kissed me again. “I’m giving up—” he hesitated, his lips moving but no words coming out until, “—this.”
A sharp ache sliced through my chest. Even if we threw everything out the window and tried to see each other again, it wouldn’t be the same. The man and woman who went on a waterfall picnic weren’t who we really were. It was better that we keep that memory pure.
Didn’t make it hurt any less.
Besides, how would I ever explain that I’d lied about who I was? If I wanted to enjoy these last few hours with Colt, I needed to hold tight to this illusion I’d created for us both.
“What if we come back next year? One year from now we’ll be different people. There’s no way I’m going home and picking up where I left off. Maybe you shouldn’t either.”
“A year?” His voice held a mix of disappoint and hope. “A year to change.”
“You’re a workaholic and my life is kind of a mess right now. I think if we tried to keep this—what we have right now—we’d ruin it. I don’t want that.”
“Neither do I.”
Good. A year would give me enough time to figure out how to explain my little white lies. And maybe he’d be so happy to see me again he wouldn’t care as much as he would right now.
“I’m a sunshine and rainbows, glass-half-full, pot-of-gol
d, pain in the ass, but I have goals, Colt. Just because I think positive doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to reality.” I took a deep breath, hoping it would give me the courage to finish this. “The last two days have been the best I’ve ever had. Because of you. I hope when I come back next year I’ll see your cowboy hat by the pool. Maybe we’ll be ready by then.”
“Is this a brush off? When I come back will I be all alone again, pining for a woman who never really existed?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were deadly serious.
I just wish he wasn’t so damn close to the truth.
“I’ll be here, Colt. That’s not even a question. I’m a little bit addicted to you and I want more.”
“Good. Because I think it would kill me if I never saw you again.”
Oh god. “You’re making me want to stay again . . . ” I rolled on top of him, straddling his hips. “Fuck reality. We’re going to blow every penny we have to stay here until we’re broke.”
He laughed, sliding his hands up my hips and pulling me down against him. “This place is expensive. Maybe we can find a cheaper alternative to make it last longer.” Then he pulled me down, his arm along my spine and his hand between my shoulder blades as he held me to him. “I’ll be ready for you next year. Just know I’m not letting you go again. Be prepared for a fight.”
It was taking all the fight I had to leave tomorrow. No amount of time would give me enough courage to fight him off a second time. If after he knew the truth he still wanted me, I would give us everything I had to see if we could recreate this magic off the island.
* * *
“HAVE A SAFE FLIGHT, Annie. Take care of yourself.” He tilted my chin up for a kiss. “Fuck, this sucks.”
I bit my lip as I pulled back. We never did sleep last night. Instead we got lost inside each other over and over again, until I wasn’t sure it was possible to ever be two separate people again.
And yet here I was standing in my room in a dress, my suitcase packed and a sweater flung over the handle.
“Thank you for everything.”
His features hardened. “You are most welcome. I hate that you needed this but I’m not one to talk.”