Preservation

by Rachael Wade

  “He-hello?”

  “Kate, where are you? We ordered you a drink but we didn’t order dinner yet. Get down here, girl!” Janine. Her name barely registered as my gaze swept the lobby and the entrance to the restaurant. What does this mean? What does he want? Why—

  “Kate?”

  “Oh, um...sorry. I’m here. Yes, I’m right outside. Be inside in just a sec.”

  “Okay, hurry! We’re starved!”

  I hung up and hesitated, before my phone rang out again and made me jump. Oh, what now? Answering without looking at the caller ID, Carter’s voice filled my ear.

  “Kate?”

  “Hey Carter, can I call you—”

  “This really can’t wait. Where are you right now? Are you back at the hotel?”

  “Yeah, Carter, listen,” I pinched the bridge of my nose and shut my eyes, “I’m about to head into this restaurant to meet some friends for dinner and something just happened—look, I’ll call you back when I can think straight.”

  “Okay, but Kate—”

  I hung up and turned for the restaurant door. Spotting Janine and Tanya at the bar near the back of the restaurant, I hurried toward them, shimmying onto the stool and nearly losing my balance.

  “Hey, you okay?” Janine asked.

  “Yeah, you look awfully flustered, girl,” Tanya chimed in.

  “I’m okay, I just...” I pulled the manuscript from under my elbow and plopped the globe paperweight on top of it, my eyes fixed on the crystal, the message before me. “Someone delivered this to me, but it wasn’t in a package or anything, and he’s my—was my—is my...” the tears started and I dropped my head into my hands. Get a damn grip, Kate. You don’t know what this means.

  “Oh, honey...what is it?” Janine stood and came to my side, picking up the globe, scanning Ryan’s name on the manuscript. I lifted my head and tried to speak, but a half sob, half erratic giggle interrupted me.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Tanya cocked a brow and stood to wave to the bartender. “We’re going to need something stronger than this,” she lifted her strawberry daiquiri and downed the last of it, ordering shots instead.

  “Come on, girl, tell us. Who is this Ryan guy and what does he want with you?” Janine asked, flipping through the first few pages. Tanya scuttled next to her, eyes popping wide when she read the top page. Nudging Janine, she smoothed the page over the others and pointed to the dedication.

  “Ah,” Janine shook her head in understanding. “Men.”

  “Pppfftt. Look at him, all poetic.” Tanya dismissed the page with a wave of the hand. “He burned you, I take it?”

  “Of course he did,” Janine answered for me. “Tssk.”

  “No. I mean, yes,” I finally answered, pushing through the sobs. “But I burned him, too. I never trusted him, kept pushing him—”

  “Is there a Kate Parker here?” The bartender’s voice rang out, holding the phone to his ear. “Kate Parker?” Still hazy from the shock of my afternoon delivery, I turned and waved my hand, and he mumbled something into the phone, hanging up before walking toward me. “You’re wanted down on the beach, miss.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Someone just rang for you and asked you to head down to the beach.” He must’ve noticed my mess of a face because he reached under the bar and pulled out a cloth napkin, then handed it to me with a kind nod. “You’ll have to catch the shuttle out front. It’s the last one for the evening.”

  “The person didn’t give a name?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Who else could it be? I didn’t know anyone else on the island.

  “Okay...thanks,” I blotted my eyes and cheeks and grabbed the globe and manuscript, turning to find Janine and Tanya staring at me, wide eyed and curious. “Oh my God. I think that’s him...I think I need to go—”

  “Oh honey, go! Go! Go!” They shooed me toward the doors, squealing and gabbing away behind me as they saw me off. What will I say to him? What does he want with me? Why can’t he let me grieve him in peace?

  None of that mattered now. He was here. I was still in love with him, and from the sound of that dedication, he was still in love with me. The love was there, just like the chemistry on our first date. There was no denying it, and once again, the circumstances surrounding it would have to work themselves out on their own.

  A myriad of questions continued to swirl around in my head as the shuttle jerked to a stop and snapped me back to Earth. Slipping out of the bus, I hurried toward the ladder that led down to the beach, peeling my high heel sandals off to jet across the sand. My eyes roamed everywhere; left and right, then right again until I saw him.

  He was more gorgeous than he’d ever been before, standing beneath a palm tree, the sun’s rays cracking over the Piton Mountains behind him, filtering down and dancing over his bare shoulders. I drank in his blue board shorts and then his hips and abs, my eyes moving up to find tanned, sculptured cheekbones and a pair of sunglasses dipped low on his nose, the sun bringing out the blonde hues in his sandy brown hair. Wiggling his hands anxiously at his side, he scanned the perimeter, doing a double take when his gaze caught me from a distance.

  I froze.

  Lifting his shades, he raised a hand to shield his face from the sun, squinting to get a better look. The corner of his lips curled into a tight smile. We stood there, a stretch of uncertainty between us, heaven incarnate all around us, and all I could manage was lead feet, anchoring me into the sand, and a slack jaw desperate for words.

  Then I decided.

  “What are you doing here?” I called out, shielding my own eyes from the sun.

  “You really have to ask that question?” he shouted back.

  “What is it you’ve come to say?” Stumbling closer, I held up the manuscript, the pages flapping frantically in the wind. “I take it this is a murder mystery? You killed the ex-fiancée and thanked her in the dedication? Mighty dignified of you, I must say.”

  “Nah. It’s a horror novel. But yeah, the bimbo dies in the end. Bob Hall says it’s going to be a bestseller, so I figured I owed her some thanks for the inspiration.” He edged a few feet closer, his smile spread from ear to ear. The glimmer in his eyes flickered toward the ocean, breaking our connection. He hung his head, licked his lips, then returned his eyes to mine, restoring the connection with an intense smolder. “Are you gonna get over here, or what?”

  Letting out a soft chuckle, the tears began to blind me. “Make me.”

  Raising his eyebrows and tilting his head to the side, he dipped his hands in his short pockets and began a slow stroll toward me, eyes roaming over my body as he sauntered forward. “Is that a challenge, Ms. Parker?”

  “Maybe. You’ll regret it if you don’t accept.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “It’s a promise, professor.” Standing perfectly still, I waited for him to close the sandy distance between us, watched him walk with patient, easy steps.

  Walking—it was a new fondness of mine, an incomparable joy when it involved this man coming toward me with an unhurried stride, allowing me to savor the final moments before his skin touched mine again, to see the raw affection in his eyes, and the depths of his unspoken apologies. He reached me and I peered up into those eyes, returning the same endearments with my own.

  Strong hands lifted me up off the ground, fingertips grazing the material of my dress and over my lower back, the tips of my toes just barely dipping into the sand. The sea breeze stirred up a salty blast from the ocean and washed over and all around us, the palm tree branches above our heads rustling against its force.

  Ryan’s forehead to mine, he leaned down and burned me with my favorite golden eyes, pulling me to his chest. “Who knew Seattleites could tan so beautifully?”

  “That’s what you came all this way to say?”

  “I’m an idiot. I fucked up. Bad.”

  “I know.”

  “Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Kiss me and I’ll decide.” As fast a
s I could spit out the words, his mouth collided with mine, lips tasting of saltwater, tongue of mint and lemon.

  “I need you, Kate,” he whispered against hard kisses, gliding fingers through my hair and over my scalp. “Please make me the happiest man alive.” He broke another kiss and dropped onto his knee. “Will you?” Pulling a box from his pocket, he popped it open. Feeling lightheaded, I gripped his shoulders to hold myself up. The rock was massive. Mother of Mercy.

  “Kate? I gave the university my notice, this is my last semester. I’m going to be Bob Hall’s assistant. He didn’t just sign me on with the house, he hired me. I told him you dropped the bullshit Porter and Whalen deal. He’s ready to pick up your novel. Just say the word. You can keep your apartment, keep your job. I don’t have to pay for a thing, please just come home, come home and let me love you. I’ll do anything you want, I’ll—”

  “Ryan.” I lifted his chin to stop his rambling. “I’ll say yes under one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  I took a deep breath, contemplating whether or not to mention drowning his former bimbo brigade as a condition. Tempting, but no. “I don’t care if I build the next Great Wall of China around me, knock it down. Break down every door and fight with me until you’re blue in the face if it means bringing me to my senses. Forgive me for hurting you the way I have, and don’t ever let me walk away from you again, because being this far from you has been almost as painful as the regret I feel for denying you the right to love me and the right to myself to be loved.”

  He blinked. “That’s a clusterfuck of conditions.”

  “Take it or leave it.”

  “Oh, I accept the challenge,” he slipped the rock on my finger and then rose from his knee and scooped me up, flinging me over his shoulder. “And I’m determined to show you just how committed I am to meeting those conditions.”

  He charged toward the beach ladder and up the incline to exit with me bobbing over his shoulder, the crystal globe and now-ratty manuscript dangling in one hand, and my sandals in the other. With squealing laughter, I allowed the last of my tears to fall away into the sand, and gave in to his direction—wherever he was leading me—for what felt like the first time since I’d met him. A strange, uncomfortable word bubbled up from my mental dictionary as he carried me over his shoulder, one most familiar to those who’ve faced transformation square in the face and welcomed it with vivacious spirit and upturned, open hands.

  Surrender.

  EPILOGUE

  The morning sunlight illuminated the hotel room’s natural paradise, bringing my eyes to a flutter, the bed’s netted enclosure wrapping me in its dreamy cocoon. I stretched, arms searching for him. The other side of the bed was empty. Jumping when I felt the empty space, I sat up and pulled the sheet to my chest, eyes scanning the room.

  “Why, Ms. Parker, I believe you’re late for class.” His voice came from across the room. Squinting in its direction, I peered through the white netting, pushing it aside to slip out of the canopy. Relaxed and focused on some paperwork, he sat at the small writing desk near the vanity, facing me, scribbling away with a pencil. He donned a smart beige suit, complete with tie and reading glasses.

  “What’s this?” I shuffled toward him sleepily, stopping when I saw his no-nonsense expression.

  Reaching over to pick up a slice of orange from his breakfast tray, he pulled his gaze from the paper and directed it toward me, pulling off his glasses and setting them down.

  “I said you’re late, Ms. Parker.” No smile, no hint of humor present.

  “Um...Ryan...what exactly are you talking abo—”

  “If you want the breakfast I’ve ordered for you here, you need to arrive to class on time.” He glanced at the tiny alarm clock positioned at the corner of the desk and took a slow, enticing bite of the orange slice, face still cold, alluring eyes trained on mine. Oh, for the love of Pete. Someone’s been drinking too many rum runners.

  “Ooohhhkay...I’m just going to go wash up, and hopefully, by the time I come back, you will have returned to planet Earth and—”

  “Are you going to be a good student?” He raised a brow and pushed himself away from the desk, the wheels of the chair rolling loudly across the bare wood floors. A small smile finally tugged at his lips and he rested his hands gently in his lap, smoky eyes flickering with desire. “Come here.”

  I gulped. Oh. So he wants to play, does he?

  “Oh Ryan, can’t I at least brush my teeth first?” My hands planted on my hips, I stationed myself. I wasn’t going anywhere near him until I brushed my damn teeth. My mouth tasted like road kill...if I knew what road kill tasted like.

  “So you’re opting for detention, then?”

  “No, I’m opting for a damn toothbrush. Now hold that thought,” I started for the bathroom door.

  “You mean this one?” He held up my travel case, an I-dare-you smirk springing to his lips. “I said come here. Don’t you ever obey your superiors?”

  Putting on my best pout, I pushed through my need to control the situation and loosened my shoulders, strolling toward him with the same easy pace he’d used to meet me on the beach the night before. His eyes danced with amusement as I veered around the side of the desk to stand in front of him. Why not? Humor the man.

  “Well if you’re threatening me with detention, I can make an exception and obey just this once.” Reaching to trail my fingers over his knee, I gazed down and narrowed my eyes at him, giving him a coy smile of my own. “Will you forgive me for being late to class, Mr. Campbell?”

  “That depends on your performance today,” he slid his fingers up the sides of my legs and underneath my lace nightgown, hands gripping my hips to guide me forward.

  “Oh?”

  “Mmhhmm.” He swiped another piece of orange from his breakfast dish and took a bite.

  “And what is the assignment this morning?”

  “No writing assignment. Today we’re going to focus on sensory skills.” He cupped my ass and shifted in his seat, positioning me tighter between his legs. “Starting with taste.” Reaching up and running a thumb over my lower lip, he traced the corner of my mouth, then guided me down by my jaw, aligning his lips with mine. “Taste,” he ordered, sliding the piece of orange between his teeth. Leaning in to capture it with my teeth and tongue, I drew a soft groan from him and he maneuvered me onto his lap. “Now feel,” he murmured, sliding his hands higher and higher underneath the lace, around to the front to caress my breasts, sucking in a sharp breath as his fingers teased the curves. My body instantly responded, leaning in to meet his touch. “I’d like to make love to my beautiful fiancée now.”

  “Did I pass the obedience test?”

  “Oh, ‘A’ plus, baby,” he deepened his kiss and captured my moan before it could escape, moving to unzip beneath me. A distant thumping sound came from the hall, growing louder and louder until a doorbell sounded.

  I let out a sigh, closing my eyes. “I know these rooms are over the top, but they have doorbells? I’ve been here a week and not once have I heard a damn doorbell.”

  Ryan released my lip from his teeth. “Uh...I was scolding you for waking up late for a reason. I was hoping we’d have time before—”

  “If you like piña coladas!” Singing. Singing outside of the door. Oh, God, it could only be— “And getting caught in the rain!”

  “Ryan!” I jumped off his lap, straightening my nightgown and fluffing my hair. “What did you do? Why didn’t you tell me—you knew they were coming?” My voice reached an octave only dogs could hear.

  He stood up and adjusted himself, leaning over the desk to let out a long, winded breath. “Who said it was ‘they’?”

  “Oh, please. That’s Dean singing, and he never flies solo. He’s lost without his partner in crime.” Shaking my head at the sheer stupidity of these boys, I jogged around the desk and toward the front door. Swinging it open, I didn’t care that I was in a skimpy nightgown. Couldn’t care less that my breath could kill
a small army from a mile away. These two geniuses were at my door, interrupting the beginning of the sexiest role play I’d ever had the privilege to try with my soon-to-be husband, probably stealing the best orgasm of my life right along with it. I was pissed.

  The look on my face said it all.

  “Well somebody’s on the warpath,” Dean greeted me, a bright yellow snorkel mask plastered across his face. “Good to see you too, Ms. Grump Fest. Personally, I’d be flattered if my best friends flew across the world to see me.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that crap. I know Ryan paid for your airfare. You guys can’t afford inflatable furniture, let alone tickets to the West Indies.” I scoffed, the grin escaping before I could catch it and whip it back into submission. “Damn it,” I pulled him in for a huge hug, snickering when I got a closer look at his diving get-up. “I missed you.”

  “You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

  Carter pushed in behind him, sliding his glasses up the bridge of his nose and peering down at me. He let out a sharp whistle, taking in my attire. “Well hello, mama.”

  “Hey, hey,” Ryan came up behind me and playfully lassoed me backward, shooting Carter a warning and lifting my left hand to show off the ring. “Watch it, man.”

  “Oh whatever,” Carter puffed, passing by us with his bags. “You guys go from crying a river and hating each other to getting hitched in what, a few weeks? I can’t keep up with you two nutcases.”

  I eyed my favorite duo as they carried their bags in and shut the door. “So, what exactly is going on here? How are you guys missing work...and who the hell is watching my place?”

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Carter spat. Dean had found the pool and was hypnotized by the cliff view, moving on from his “Piña Colada” performance to a humming rendition of...what is that?