by Meghan March
The words were like a slap in the face. I pulled away from Benjie’s grip.
“Why are you trying to shit on this? Is it because you’re jealous that I finally have something good in my life that’s not work?”
Benjie’s dark blond eyebrows knitted together. “Listen to yourself, Kat. You’re so fucking scared about what you’re doing that you’re taking swipes at me and sounding like a total bitch. Don’t do this. Just . . . please, go live with him first. You don’t have to marry him. What if he has another family he’s hiding from you?”
“Why would you even say that?” My words came out sounding hysterical, and I spun around and headed for the door of Benjie’s apartment.
“Kat, wait. I know you need someone in your life other than me, but—”
I paused at the door and interrupted him. “But what if this is my only chance? What if . . . what if it happens to me too?”
Apology and sympathy were etched into Benjie’s features. “Kitty Kat, you have to stop living your life with your head buried in the sand some days, and other days like an adrenaline junkie. You’re letting a tiny possibility fuck you up, and it’s not healthy. You need to find out for sure.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I don’t want to know.”
Benjie shook his head. “For the smartest girl I know, you do some pretty dumb shit. Go live with him. Make sure you want to be together. And tell him the truth.”
“I can’t.”
“I don’t want to say I told you so. Don’t make me that friend.”
“I love you, Benjie.”
“I love you too, Kitty Kat.” He yanked me into a hug, and tears rushed down my face. “I just want you to be happy.”
“He makes me happy.”
“Then so be it.” Benjie pulled back. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
* * *
Present day
Maybe Benjie was right to be scared for my future. Maybe when you have nothing to lose, it allows you to see things more clearly.
Water splashes me across the face like a cold reminder of reality.
“Sorry ’bout that, ma’am. I’m trying to miss the waves,” Carlos yells.
Dane looks at me, as though expecting me to raise holy hell over getting a little wet, but I don’t.
“It’s fine. No worries.” I wipe the water from my face with my hand, squinting at the burn of the salt.
Maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me to quit dwelling in the past and live more in the present.
Working as many hours as humanly possible was the only way I knew how to cope. All I could control. I’m letting fear of the unknown terrify me into forgetting how to live.
The sun begins to set behind us, turning the clouds in the sky ahead pink and purple. By dwelling in the past, I’m missing all of the beauty in front of me.
Another good reminder. Be present or you never know the beauty of everything you’ve missed.
“Wow.” My voice carries over the salt-tinged wind.
Dane lifts his arm from around my shoulders. “Look at the sunset behind us. It’s even better.”
I crane my neck and, sure enough, beyond Carlos the sky is a wall of brilliant color. It doesn’t look like the sun is setting, but flaming out in a burst of orange and yellow, strengthening into red at the edges. I’m surprised I can’t feel heat on my face coming from the intensity of the hues.
“Wow.” This time I whisper the word like a prayer.
“It’s amazing what you can see when you’re not staring down at a phone or laptop.”
The dig isn’t subtle, and it’s definitely not lost on me. Instead of getting defensive, I agree.
“You’re right.”
We both go quiet, and eventually my awe at the vivid colors painting the sky fades away as the land behind us becomes more and more distant, and there’s nothing but water ahead of us.
Nowhere to swim to if something happens.
I’m not ready to die. Especially not now.
I promise I’ll change.
Concentrating on breathing in and out, I relax into the seat as little islands pop up, dotting the ocean in front of us. A new feeling, something resembling excitement, curls through me.
This is beautiful.
Clear Caribbean-blue water. Islands. Palm trees. Gorgeous.
And I’m blessed to be alive and experiencing it.
Ten days.
One marriage to save.
We can do this.
Chapter 7
Kat
Half an hour later we close in on an island, and a dock and brightly painted buildings become visible. Hammocks hang between palm trees. A large white building with a thatched roof sits on the beach, and a sign reads SWEET WATER BELIZE.
As Carlos slows next to the dock, the first mate jumps off to tie up the boat as another man comes down the dock toward us wearing an identical uniform of khaki pants and a green polo.
“Welcome, welcome. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Cross. I’m Anton, manager of Sweet Water Caye and Resort. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you settled.”
And just like that, we’re following him toward the white building that serves as a check-in desk and a bar.
“Would you like a welcome drink? We have Purple Rain for you tonight. Or a Belikin beer, if you prefer, sir.”
“I’ll take the beer,” Dane replies. “She’ll have the cocktail.”
Dane might not order for me often, but he’s known me long enough to know it’s what I would pick. I don’t know what’s in Purple Rain, but I’m willing to take my chances.
In no time, Anton has the drinks ready and slides them across the bar before reaching for the check-in log. Dane deals with the details, and I stare out at the water. Now that I’m not bouncing across the waves and I have a drink in my hand, the bands of tension and stress clutching my chest begin to loosen. I finally feel like I can breathe again.
With the taste of coconut rum on my tongue and the blazing sunset sinking behind the clouds, I make a vow to myself: I’m going to put all of Dane’s comments behind me and move forward with purpose.
After we’re officially checked in, Anton leads us down a conch-shell-lined path made of wooden boards toward our overwater bungalow. Another man trails behind with our bags.
“The nicest one on the island, as you requested, Mr. Cross,” he assures us.
I glance at Dane, surprised that he made the request. He’s usually more of a budget traveler, rather than one to splurge. When we first met at that resort in Mexico, he’d told me that he had never been to an all-inclusive resort before. He’d camped on beaches, in jungles, in the forest, but he’d never stayed at a hotel if he could help it.
Now, two and half years later, he’s springing for the fanciest overwater bungalow at a secluded tropical-island resort? I’m not the only one who has changed. Or maybe this is his way of really trying to fix things between us? My new mindset demands I go with the second option.
The wind blows stronger here, making the humidity less oppressive, and I’m excited to find that I’m not being attacked by bugs like I normally would be in the tropics at dusk. Small solar lights stuck into the sand along the path glow orange, but other than marking the walkway, they don’t offer much in the way of light.
The pathway veers off toward coral, yellow, and orange cabanas with cute thatched roofs that seem to say live the island life and forget your worries. With each step, I feel lighter.
When we reach the opposite side of the small island, which takes all of about three minutes, I see a wooden bungalow and an L-shaped pier leading out to it. Waves crash over some unseen barrier not more than a hundred feet away.
“What is that?” I point toward it.
“The reef. The second largest one in the world, after the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Some of the world’s best snorkeling and diving is only a hundred feet away.” Anton leads us down the pier, pulls a key from his pocket, and opens the door, letting it swing wide for us t
o step inside.
“We hope you’ll be comfortable at Sweet Water. Feel free to take your time freshening up. The chef has been informed of your arrival by now, and will be ready to make you dinner whenever it suits you. Tonight’s specials are snapper filet and grilled lobster tail, both fresh caught this afternoon. Or, if you’d prefer chicken, we have an excellent jerk recipe.”
My stomach growls as though on command.
Dane glances at me with a soft smile. He’s well acquainted with my bossy stomach, and hopefully still endeared by it. “We’ll be ready to eat within the hour.”
“Excellent. We’ll see you soon in the restaurant then. Take a left off your dock and the second right on the path. You can’t miss it. It’s the largest building on the island.”
The porter following Anton sets our bags inside the doorway, and they both turn to leave.
“We hope you enjoy your stay with us,” Anton says. “Please let me know if there is anything at all I can do to make it more enjoyable.”
Dane closes the door behind them, and I spin around to take in the room.
The interior of the bungalow is airy and romantic, all shiny wood and bright colors. A skylight over the wooden canopied bed lets in the remaining traces of the sunset. A hand-painted canvas depicting an ocean scene adorns the wall where a TV would be placed in a normal hotel room. A bouquet of orange-and-purple bird-of-paradise sits in a polished wooden vase on the dresser.
I cross the room and peek through an intricately carved wooden door into the bathroom. The cluster of candles on the edge of a luxurious tub catches my attention. It’s straight out of a brochure, practically insisting a couple to take a romantic soak together.
To me, it looks hopeful, but I have a hard time imagining us using it.
Maybe . . .
I step out of the bathroom and face Dane, who is already reaching for his duffel bag.
“You really went all out.”
“I figured if I couldn’t go big to celebrate two years of marriage, when would I have the chance?”
His words carry the unspoken suggestion that this could be our last occasion to celebrate, and they slash into my newly adopted positive attitude.
“You want to take the first shower?” he asks.
Another blow.
He would have never asked that before.
* * *
Two years and three months ago
Dane’s lips only left mine so he could yank the dress I’d spent two hours choosing over my head. I got his lips back before it hit the floor.
It had been three weeks. Three weeks too long since I’d seen Dane. Since I’d touched him. Since I’d escaped into this alternate reality where we could be together and everything else faded away.
With one hand buried in my hair, he tilted my head back, his mouth trailing down my throat, his teeth scraping against my pulse.
I threw myself into it with wild abandon.
I need this.
I need him.
Dane’s other hand cupped my ass before tearing my thong from my body. “Wet and naked, my favorite flavor of Kat,” he growled as he maneuvered me into the giant tiled shower of our hotel room.
My moan echoed off the walls as he found I was already wet for him.
“Always ready for me. Nothing sexier.” He tugged my left nipple between his teeth, and I arched back. “Turn on the water. You said you wanted to clean up, but I’m gonna get you dirty first.”
I’d meant clean up and get ready for him since I’d been on a plane for seven hours to get to the Dominican where he asked me to meet him. Dane took it differently. With a wicked smile on his face, he dragged me to the shower, his mouth closing over mine as we devoured each other.
I flipped on the water, and the cold blast stole a shriek from my lips and puckered my nipples into tight points that he took advantage of, tugging the right one into his mouth. Thankfully, the spray turned warm within seconds.
“Fuck, baby. It’s been too long. I hate that I can’t have you every day.”
Whenever he said stuff like this, I wondered what it would be like to be together all the time and not just stolen weekends. But those thoughts were gone as he plunged his finger deep and curled it forward to find my G-spot.
“Oh God.” I moaned as my first orgasm of the weekend rolled through me. It was always so easy with him. Going without for weeks meant my body was primed, and Dane knew all the right ways to make me scream.
I tilted my head back into the hot water, steam rising between our bodies as I whispered his name.
Dane released me and adjusted his hold to lift me into the air. In two steps, he had my back pressed against the tiles and his cock sliding between us.
My inner muscles tightened in anticipation as he removed one hand from my waist, keeping me aloft with only one arm. I’d never realized before all that strength packed into the rippling muscles of his body would prime me faster than any porn I could possibly watch.
He notched the head of his cock into my entrance and then . . . Holy. Shit. With one thrust, I was filled to the point of almost can’t take it all.
When I sucked in a breath, he paused, buried to the hilt. “You okay?”
“You’re just . . . big. We really need to do this more than one weekend a month,” I whispered, wondering why I was even trying to speak.
Dane’s husky laugh filled the shower, mingling with the steam. “Yeah, we really should. I can never get enough. You feel so fucking good. I gotta move, baby.”
I wrapped my legs tighter around him and his hands gripped my hips, one moving over to cover my clit with his thumb. It was like he touched the launch button, because I was instantly trying to fuck myself on his cock.
“There’s my girl.”
And then he proceeded toward detonation.
Stroke after stroke, his lips found my shoulder, neck, and ear as he plowed in and out, making me scream as my orgasm slammed into me. I was surprised resort security wasn’t banging on the door yet.
He fucked into me harder until his roar drowned out any other sound.
And then came the banging.
Dane looked at me. “You think we’ll find a country where they won’t harass us for having the best sex of our lives?”
* * *
Present day
“Kat?” Dane’s voice, not talking dirty to me, chases the memory away. “You want to go first?”
No, what I want is for you to drag me into the shower like you used to. Back when you were so hungry for me, you couldn’t get enough. Back before . . . everything changed.
But I say none of that.
“Uh, sure. I’ll be quick. I know you’re hungry too.” But not hungry for me, I add silently.
“It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll be quick,” I repeat.
I reach for the handle of my suitcase and drag it into the bathroom with me. With the bathroom door shut behind me, I strip out of my travel clothes and ball them up before dropping them on the floor. Water droplets hit the tile before I turn the handle to start the spray.
Dane never needs to know that I’m crying in the bathroom, wishing everything could be different.
Flipping the water on, I climb inside as soon as it warms, let my head drop forward, and the tears spill free.
Chapter 8
Kat
I keep my red-rimmed eyes focused on the mahogany planks of the wood floor as I drag my suitcase out of the bathroom behind me. Dane’s gaze feels heavy as he takes in my fully dressed form, a towel wrapped turban-style around my head.
“All yours,” I tell him, making eye contact with the center of his chest.
“I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.”
Polite strangers, that’s what we are. So freaking polite it makes me want to scream. I could open my mouth and say something, but right now, I don’t even have words.
He disappears into the bathroom with his small travel kit in hand, and the door shuts behind him
with a decisive click.
I stare at myself in the mirror hanging over the dresser. Dark circles under my eyes are a great contrast with the redness left over from my shower-crying binge. Hopefully, my blue sundress will be a big enough distraction.
Gripping my suitcase by the side handle, I lift it onto the luggage stand and unzip it once more. Everything I packed is a crumpled mess, except for this wrinkle-free sundress. Normally, I do a little better than this because I’m used to living out of a suitcase. Dane, on the other hand, is already completely unpacked. In the reflection of the open closet, his linen shirts hang in a neat row, next to his pants and T-shirts. I know if I open the dresser, his shorts and swim trunks will be folded and put away.
He’s organized like that. Nothing out of place, if he can help it. I’ve always wondered if it’s OCD or just habits left over from his days in the military, but I’ve never asked.
Why didn’t I ask? I probably should have asked a lot more things.
Benjie’s warnings come back to me, and more than anything, I wish I could pick up the phone and call him for advice. He would never feed me a line of bullshit, just give it to me straight. It was a quality he and my mom shared. I can’t help but wonder what she would have said if she had still been here when I met Dane.
Would she have cautioned me against falling in love? I don’t think so. Even after everything that happened, I think she would have told me to go after happiness with everything I had, regardless of the risks.
Like always, thoughts of her bring an ache I can feel all the way to my bones. I move to the bed and sit, drawing up my knees and wrapping my arms around them.
She would be so disappointed in me.
The battle is not lost until your will is. I can almost hear her speaking the words.
The door to the bathroom opens, releasing a cloud of steam. Dane steps out, a towel wrapped low around his waist, just under those last two abs most men never achieve. But Dane seems superhuman in many ways.
He’s always been gorgeous, starting with that first day he walked out of the ocean like some kind of god from the sea. But that wasn’t why I fell in love with him.