by Amelia Wilde
I raise my eyebrows. “Not during the day?”
“During the day and during the night. But if I had a choice, those would be my go-to midnight snack every time.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a pain in the ass to get them anywhere in the city. I can never seem to remember to get all the ingredients at once.” She gives me a long look. “Plus, when I’m there, I’m usually sleeping all night, or in the office during the day. I don’t know that executive travel coordinators are supposed to bring plates of s’mores to their desks. They’re kind of messy.”
“You could if you were my executive travel coordinator.” I make a face. “That was supposed to sound sexier than it came out.”
“No chance of that,” Kennedy laughs, picking up her fork and spearing a strawberry. She takes it between her lips—I’m immediately back in the shower, looking down on her wet hair while she wraps those same lips around my cock—and then her gaze becomes unfocused, staring out over the sea.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I want to know what the surprise is.”
“You’re not much for surprises, are you?”
“Not really.” Then she’s grinning, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “But it’s kind of exciting, with you.”
“Kind of?”
“I mean it’s not stressful. I don’t have to worry that it’s going to be…”
“Something horrible.”
“I wasn’t going to say that.” Kennedy eats another bite of strawberry. “But something less than ideal.”
Her hair is air-drying in the sunlight, the breeze off the ocean rippling through it. I consider taking a picture with my phone, but it would never be able to capture the way the light makes her hair look fiery one second, coppery the next, and glowing the next one after that. Instead, I stare at her. She catches me, and casts a glance at me with wide eyes. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I tell her, and she blushes a little, looking back down at her plate.
Twenty minutes later, she puts her knife and fork in the center of the plate and pushes it away from her, standing up and stretching. She’s wearing a pair of shorts that cling to her ass, a bikini top, and a white shirt tied in a knot at her waist—all items the personal shopper picked up for her last week so she wouldn’t have to pack.
“You can do that again,” I tell her, and she laughs, coming around the table to pull me out of my seat.
“Let’s go.”
“Where should we go, pretty thing?”
“To wherever this surprise is, obviously.” Kennedy rolls her eyes. “I don’t know how much longer you can keep me waiting before—”
I put two fingers under her chin and lift her face toward mine, placing a kiss on her lips, conveying everything I’ve been holding back for the entire meal. She gasps when she comes up for air, her blue eyes glittering, her body pressed against me.
“Before something like that happens,” she says, then playfully grabs my hand. “Let’s go!” She tugs at my hand, drawing me back through the bedroom. Halfway to the staircase, she claps a hand against the side of my face. “Don’t look!”
“Don’t look at what?” My entire chest is warm, my heart beating faster with the anticipation of Kennedy’s delight.
“The bed. Otherwise we’ll end up back in it.”
This woman has thought of everything.
Once we reach the lower floor, Kennedy pauses. “So, where to?”
“This way.”
I take her out toward the path that leads to the helicopter pad, and like I coordinated the whole thing—which I did, though not to this degree—the sound of a helicopter’s blades beating at the air kicks up a notch. I heard it a couple of minutes ago, but Kennedy was still distracted by breakfast. Her eyes go wide. “Who’s landing here today?”
I give a little shrug, like I don’t know and might not particularly care, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face.
Kennedy narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is someone landing here?”
“I’d say so, yeah.”
“I thought you rented the entire island.”
“I did.”
“But someone else is coming to join us?”
Her expression keeps rocketing between curiosity and confusion. “Someone else is clearly coming. Otherwise there wouldn’t be a helicopter landing here.”
“Is it—?”
“Let’s go see who it is, shall we?”
Kennedy’s practically vibrating with nervousness now, and a wave of guilt washes over me. Maybe it would have been better to just tell her what I had planned so that she could enjoy this moment rather than worrying about who might be on the helicopter. I could tell her a white lie that wouldn’t ruin the surprise—that they’re only here to drop off supplies, something like that—but lying to her just feels wrong. I can’t look into her face and lie to her. Not anymore. Not since that first night in the club. That was the only window of opportunity even for small falsehoods.
She picks up the pace, her sandals falling softly on the trail surface, as we make our way back to where the helicopter is about to touch down. It zooms overhead, the wind from its blades rustling the trees around us. Kennedy looks up, shading her eyes like she might be able to see who is inside from here. Then she presses her lips together and walks even faster.
We arrive at the edge of the landing area just as the blades are spinning down. Kennedy stands with her hip cocked to one side, staring determinedly at the helicopter, and I wonder what exactly is going through her mind.
The side door slides open.
At first, all either of us can see is the back of one man in a pressed white shirt, moving carefully out of the helicopter and down to the surface. He’s carrying something in his hands, and slowly they emerge, another man following.
But in the center of them is a young woman in a wheelchair.
Next to me, Kennedy gasps, her entire face lighting up with all the surprise and delight I’d hoped for.
“Gideon!” she cries. She moves toward me, wrapping her arms around me tightly. Then she’s laughing, her face lighting up almost as brightly as the sun. “What did you do?”
Chapter 39
Kennedy
I can’t believe my eyes.
Two men in white polos and the same shorts as the other island staff members are lifting Abby’s wheelchair carefully down from the helicopter, and behind them climb two other people, a man and a woman, both tall brunettes with toned arms and matching black tank tops, each with a duffel bag slung over their shoulders. I want to know who all of these people are, but I can’t wait, running forward as soon as the wheels of her chair are on terra firma.
“Abby!” I throw my arms around her neck, and she laughs out loud, tossing her head back. Her dark hair is piled up on the top of her head in an effortlessly messy bun. I pull back and look her up and down. Is she okay? She’s laughing, smiling, shaking her head at the look of concern that must be in my eyes despite the fact that I’m overjoyed to see her.
“I’m good, Kennedy, really!” She waves me away, then leans to the side and gives a little wave with her fingers. “So that’s Gideon Hawke, right here in person.”
I don’t know what to say, and as she starts to roll forward, I turn to come along with her. “What are you doing here?”
Abby grins up at me, her dark eyes sparkling. “Didn’t your boyfriend tell you?”
“I don’t know if he’s my—” I clap my mouth shut, all the memories from last night, and last weekend, and at the club, flash before my eyes. Gideon said he loved me. I just told him the same thing last night. How could we not be a couple? Still, it’s not a discussion that we’ve had yet. It doesn’t matter. Well, it matters, but in this moment it doesn’t matter at all. On the other side of the landing surface, Gideon stands with his hands in his pockets, his green eyes shining in the sun. “Tell me what?”
“He didn’t tell you he invited me for a tropical getaway?” It’s Abby’s tur
n to look a little incredulous. “Mom thought he might be some kind of secret serial killer. She was almost sure I’d end up in a warehouse instead of on Necker Island.”
“Does she even know what Necker Island is?”
“She did once the team met us at the airport.” Abby looks at me, her eyes wide. “To get on the private plane. With two assistants.” She stops abruptly. “God, I’m being so rude. This is Mike and Angela. They’re going to be with me whenever I need them, for whatever I need, I guess.” Abby gives them both a big smile as they reach for my hand to shake it one at a time.
“Thanks, guys,” I say, and Abby snorts.
“You don’t have to be all maternal, Kennedy. I’m fine.”
“Still. Gideon called you and invited you here?”
“I did.” His voice is low and smooth, coming from nearby, and my heart hammers against my ribs. I want to push him onto the ground and straddle him right now—this is by far the best surprise that I’ve ever received—but there are four people standing in a semi-circle around us, plus my sister. “Your mother took a bit of convincing.”
Abby sighs. “She’s got to let me grow up someday.” Then she grins. “In her mind, anyway. I don’t think she realizes I could have just called a cab.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “To come to Westport?”
“I would have gladly paid the bill. Welcome to Necker Island, Abby. It’s wonderful to meet you in person.” Gideon extends his hand, and Abby takes it. When she shakes, I notice for the first time there’s a new definition in her muscles. She’s been skinny since the accident, but I haven’t seen her in a few months. This is new.
“Have you been...working out?”
Abby gives me a look. “What, you think I just sit around all day?”
We all laugh.
“Let’s go back to the Great House,” Gideon says. “We can relax until lunch, and you two can settle in.” He exchanges introductions with Mike and Angela, and the two island staff members move ahead of us, disappearing down the trail.
I can’t believe she’s here. I can’t believe Gideon invited my sister to join us on our getaway, but it makes perfect sense now that she’s here. I’ve been worrying about her lately—worrying about her for years—and for once it’s nice to know that nothing bad is going to happen to us here.
Gideon shows her to her room. “Fully accessible,” he says, and we head to the terrace on the lower floor near the pool.
On the way there, I thread my fingers through Gideon’s, rising up on tiptoe to press a kiss against his jawline. “Thank you.”
He looks down at me, his green eyes serious. “Are you sure? I know it’s a little departure from the complete privacy we’ve had so far.”
“Yes. I just don’t know how you knew.”
“You mention her every so often, and there’s always a certain look on your face when you do. I thought you’d like some time to enjoy yourself with her. And me.”
“You’re incredible.” I rise up and kiss his jawline again.
We go back out into the sun, settling at a table that is set with a tray of six cocktails, and Gideon hands one to me with a grin. “We can get to know each other for a while, and then swim, if you want.”
I am wearing a bathing suit under my clothes, ready for a dip in the ocean—or the sparkling pool—at any point throughout the day, but a frown comes to my face. “I don’t know if—”
Gideon anticipates my worry. “That’s why the team is here. I’ve vetted them extensively, and they’ll be able to assist her with any activity that’s available to us on the island. I’ve been doing my research.”
“Did you two start without me?” Abby’s voice is bright and clear, and she rolls out of the house onto the terrace with Mike and Angela close behind. Gideon offers them each a cocktail. They each accept one, settling into two nearby lounge chairs while Abby pulls up to our table.
“Not quite,” he says. “Here’s yours.”
“This isn’t spiked, is it?” She lifts the glass to her lips.
Gideon laughs. “Not spiked. The alcohol is in there on purpose.”
Abby leans her head back and closes her eyes. “This is amazing. You’d think I was still twelve years old, the way Mom treats me.”
“No chance of that happening here,” Gideon says.
They go back and forth, and I relax into my seat, letting their voices wash over me. Every last bit of tension in my shoulders is seeping away, now that Abby is here in front of me, laughing and chatting and flirting with Gideon just enough to have him laughing.
Maybe I need to let her grow up, too.
But the thought comes and goes, as I take another sip of my drink.
Chapter 40
Gideon
Kennedy hovers around Abby for most of the afternoon, but I can tell she’s trying not to make it too obvious. It might just be that she’s glad to spend time with her sister, but I see the way her eyes follow her when she moves out of the room with her assistants.
The way they move is friendly, but coolly professional in a way that makes me glad I hired them. I’m not entirely sure about Abby’s needs—I had consulted with her mother and another professional versed in her specific kind of paralysis, which seems to affect her legs, at length beforehand—but Mike and Angela are more than capable.
I hired them for more than one reason, but one of the foremost on my mind is Kennedy. I want her to be able to enjoy every moment of this trip.
By the time we’re finished with our cocktails, her shoulders have relaxed completely, and when Abby suggests a swim in the pool, she agrees without any hesitation.
The tension only creeps back in when Abby leaves the room. I follow her gaze with my own.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she says, turning those blue eyes back to mine. “I just feel guilty, is all.”
“Guilty for what?”
She lifts one shoulder an inch, then lets it drop. “I feel like I should be the one who’s helping Abby.”
I lean in, taking her hand in mine. “You don’t have to do that. Not on this trip.”
“But I’m the one…” She trails off, biting her lip, and my heart twists in my chest. This is not the kind of thing I wanted to stir up by bringing Abby here. I was hoping for completely the opposite, in fact. I’m hoping that over the next few days, I can do something to alleviate the constant tension that Kennedy moves in and out of at a moment’s notice. I have some ideas, but none of this is going to play out the way I want it to if Kennedy doesn’t feel assured.
“Listen.” I don’t want to compare this to other situations or shove aside what Kennedy is feeling, but this isn’t the first time I’ve made arrangements for people with unique needs. “I’m not telling you how to think, or what to do, or how to feel…any of that.” Kennedy looks at me, her forehead furrowed. “I hired a team to be with Abby so that you don’t feel the need to follow her around all day, and she doesn’t feel like a burden.”
“She’s not a burden.”
“I know that she’s not.” I raise her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “I know that she’s not, but this way, she can just be a normal person on vacation. That’s all I was going for.”
Kennedy’s face softens, and she leans forward and presses her lips against mine. Heat runs down my spine as the kiss gets longer, fiercer, harder—
Right up until the moment when Abby’s voice breaks in. “Cut it out, lovebirds. You’ve got a whole mansion here to make out in.”
Kennedy pulls back, laughing, and then undoes the knot at the front of her shirt. “Shut up, Abby. Let’s get into the water.”
The sun is getting lower in the sky by the time we climb out of the pool, Abby assisted by her team. Kennedy towels off, but as she reaches to rub the towel in her hair, she can’t hide a yawn.
“Kennedy,” Abby scolds. “I just got to this gorgeous island. I thought we were going to party!”
Kennedy gives her a half smile. “You know how
I feel about parties.”
Abby brushes her off. “Oh, this isn’t that kind of party, and you know it. But I’m not going to bed early.” She turns to me, her eyes alight. “Gideon, tell her we’re not calling it a night early.”
I look at Kennedy with wide eyes. “It would be rude to our guest.” I can see in Kennedy’s face that it’s time for a break, and I move toward her, wrapping my arms around her and kissing the side of her neck. “Go up to the bedroom and lie down a while. I’m happy to entertain. We can have dinner when you wake up.”
She wraps her arms around my shoulders, looks up into my eyes, her face tan from the sun, her eyes tired. “Are you sure?”
“More than sure.” I lean down to whisper into her ear. “I don’t want you to be too tired later tonight.”
“Oooh,” she says softly, and the sound sends a jolt of pure need down my spine. I grit my teeth, forcing myself back under control.
“I’m going to get changed,” Abby calls, wheeling by, Angela close behind. “I’m expecting more cocktails when I come back.” I give her a nod, and she gives me a grin that looks so much like Kennedy’s that my heart aches.
When she’s out of sight, I turn my attention back to Kennedy. Her eyes are a deep blue, reflecting the orange streaks that are taking over the sky. “Go upstairs,” I murmur into her ear. “Everything’s under control.”
“It would be very rude if you came with me, wouldn’t it?”
“Given that I wouldn’t come back down for several hours, yes, it would be terribly rude. But only to Abby.”
“Well, we can’t leave her like that.” She stifles a second yawn with her hand, then pulls me in closer, pressing her lips against mine so softly that at first there’s no pressure there at all.
That doesn’t last long.
I delve my tongue into her mouth and her lips part, letting me inside, pushing against me fiercely now, her body a hard line against mine. I’m separated from her bare skin only by her bathing suit. It was one of the things I hand-selected from the personal shopper, and I chose too well. It’s going to be difficult to let her go.