by T. A. Foster
“And then there’s the toast,” she reminded me.
“Yeah, the toast. That one’s really got me up all night.” I laughed at the look in her eye.
“Don’t mock me, Mason. I’m the one person who knows how difficult the wedding is going to be for you.”
“It’s not going to be difficult. I am happy for Eden and Grey. I am going to dance with the most gorgeous woman there. I am going to give one hell of a toast. And then you and I are going on our mooncation.”
“You don’t have to pretend for me.”
“Darlin’, I’m not pretending.” I looked at my watch. “I think we better head back to the house before the car service beats us.”
She stood on her toes, tugging my neck with her hands. “Ok, but kiss me on the beach. We’re not coming back for awhile.”
I dipped my head, taking her lips, pulling her into my arms. My mouth covered hers hot and urgent. My lust and love for her fired through my body. God, this girl could drive my crazy. My fingers snaked up the back of her shirt, eager to feel the softness of her skin.
“I love you, Syd.”
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
“Never.” I pecked her check. “Now come on. I don’t want to be late.”
She rolled her eyes. “We have a private car and a chartered plane. Don’t they run on your schedule?”
Her fingers threaded through mine as we walked along the beach.
“So, you don’t have any pre-wedding jitters about you’re ex?”
I stopped, my feet dragging in the sand. “Who said anything to you about Taylor?”
Sydney’s hands went to her hips. “Eden might have mentioned it. It slipped when we were talking about the wedding party lineup.”
My eyes narrowed. “She’s the maid of honor. I’m the best man. I can’t do much about it.”
“I know that. What about seeing her? Have you thought about it?”
“Once or twice, but not like what you’re implying. Our relationship never became serious.” I tried to think of how to phrase it so she would understand. “But it wouldn’t matter if I dated her for five years or five minutes.” I squeezed Sydney’s hand. “There’s only you. You are the girl flying to North Carolina with me. You are the girl I’m taking to the wedding. And you are the only girl I’m going to spend two weeks with in France on an aptly named mooncation.”
She grinned and suddenly I realized she hadn’t been jealous. “I like it when you say things like that.”
“You do, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I like words.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
I looked up at the condo windows as we crossed over the Palm boardwalk and passed Eden and Grey’s blue beach shack.
“Do you think our mooncation trend is going to catch on?” She turned slightly as she pressed on the latch, unlocking the gate to our boardwalk.
The wooden slats were chipped and the decking needed a coat of stain, but Sydney wouldn’t let me touch it.
“It’s perfect like this.” She eyed me the day we moved into the house when she caught me making a list of improvements.
She grabbed the pad from my hand. “Old and dated is ok. This place has character. I thought that’s why you bought it.”
I shoved the pen in my pocket. “I bought it because the final condo sold at the Palm, leaving us homeless.” I saw the look in her eye. “And because you fell in love with it the instant the realtor unlocked the door.”
I had given in to the beach house, its crooked shutters, and the steps that creaked every time I climbed them. I chuckled to myself following Sydney up the stairs now.
“Let’s see. We are taking a honeymoon without getting married, but vacation is way too understated for what we’re going to be doing. I think more people will be mooncationing all over the place.” My hands immediately cupped her bottom as she bounded to the last step on the deck.
“I think I hear the doorbell.” She ran into the house before I could I could get my hands around her waist.
I walked inside, surprised when I saw we had guests.
“Mason,” Lindy squealed before tackling my knees.
“Hey, tiger.” I wrestled her free then tossed her in the air.
“We’re going to sit on your house.”
I looked at her quizzically and laughed.
Shawna walked toward us. “Lindy, it’s called house-sitting.”
“Oh.” The little girl giggled.
Sydney handed Shawna a pair of keys. “Thanks for looking after the house for us.”
“Not a problem. We’ll come by every day after school and collect the mail.”
I listened while Sydney doled out the instructions for the alarm and told Shawna the watering rotation for the tropical plants on the deck.
I crouched to the floor. “Lindy, what do you want us to bring you from France?”
She scrunched her face together. “A purple kite. A big one.” Her hands spread wide, demonstrating she didn’t want anything small.
“Ok. I’ll see what I can do.”
Shawna pointed to the glass door. “I think I see the car service in the driveway.”
“Time to go.” I rolled the suitcases to the porch.
“I want to see those wedding pictures when you get back.” Shawna followed behind us.
“I’ll text some to you.” Sydney gave her a hug.
The driver met us at the top of the stairs and lugged the bags to the trunk. We left Shawna and Lindy with the keys, standing at the top of the staircase. The girl waved as hard as she could.
My hand clasped Sydney’s as we pulled out of the driveway.
“I didn’t know they were house-sitting.”
“I forgot to mention it. Sorry. It seemed convenient since they only have to walk a few doors down from the Palm.”
“Makes sense to me.” I leaned into the seat. We had a forty-five minute ride to the airport. “You think they’re happy living there? I know they don’t have a yard or anything. And all their neighbors are over sixty-five.”
Sydney touched her finger to my lips.
“They love it. Letting her lease to own one of the condos was the best solution. An amazing solution.” She grinned. “You are brilliant sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?”
“And so humble about it.” She poked me in the ribs.
“Somebody’s gotta be, baby.”
I looked out the window as the car approached the bridge. On the other side was the resort construction site. The foundation was in. I couldn’t see it from the road, but I knew it was there.
We started to climb over the sound, the car carrying us to the other side. I reached in my pocket for my phone, but hesitated.
“Syd, I have something to show you.”
“What is it?” Her head was turned toward the opposite window. I had lost her to the October sun bouncing off the water.
I debated whether I should even mention the information I had, but I had sworn there wouldn’t be any more secrets between us. Even if what I had to tell her would hurt her.
“This came through a few minutes ago when Shawna was at the house.” I handed her my phone.
At first she didn’t react. She studied the file on my phone. She scrolled to the bottom.
Her eyes flashed to mine. “What does it mean? What does James say?”
There was a copy of a rental agreement signed by Hannah P. and a few pictures James found on a neighbor’s social media account.
“The email from James says the pictures are three months old. He flew into Portland yesterday and interviewed the neighbors.”
“But she’s not there.” Her voice quieted.
“No, but he’s close, Syd. Closer than he’s ever been. My hope is that when we get back from France we’ll know where Hailey is.”
Her eyes glistened with tears. “We’re really going to find them.”
“Yes. And make them safe. I swear to you. No one will go near your sister o
r Gracie.”
She leaned against my chest, her hair tumbling over her shoulders and I couldn’t help but pull her into my lap. I needed to hold her, touch her, protect her.
“I’m glad you told me.”
I ran my fingers over her head and down her arm. “I promised you I would.”
She sat forward. “All these things you’ve done are because of me.”
“Yes. And I’d do them over again. No question.”
“You don’t regret any of it?” she asked, toying with the collar of my shirt.
I reacted to her fingertips on my skin. “No. My only regret right now is that we aren’t headed straight to France.”
She squirmed under my hands. “And miss the wedding?”
“We can go to others.” My hands massaged her lower back.
“I’m not missing it, or the chance to see you and Grey in tuxes at the same time. It’s like a unicorn sighting. That’s probably only going to happen once…” She stopped, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
I brushed my mouth over hers. “Or twice,” I growled. I kissed her hard. I wanted her to know I wouldn’t let her down. I would be there for her. I would love her. Make love to her. Fight with her. Make up with her. Kiss her when she needed to be kissed. Hold her when she had one of those days. Laugh with her. Cry with her when she couldn’t hold it together anymore. Share secrets. Share life. Damn it, I wanted her to know I loved her every way I knew how to love.
I smiled, folding her into my arms. Yes, there was only one way this was going to go from the beginning. Somewhere between the Cove and that sandy stretch of beach to the Palm, I had landed the deal of my life. An unexpected, earth-shattering deal.
The car deposited us on the tarmac next to the jet. I helped Sydney out of the car and led her up the staircase.
She looked around. “This is going to be amazing. I can’t believe we have our own plane.”
“You have no idea.” I ordered two glasses of champagne.
The flight attendant placed them on the table in front of us. We waited for the pilot to finish his pre-flight checks before we could leave Texas.
“I bet Eden is crazy nervous right now,” Sydney tilted the glass to her lips.
“Yeah, probably so.” I didn’t know what brides did the day before their weddings.
“What time do we land?” she asked.
“We’ll be there by two. Plenty of time before the rehearsal dinner.”
Her smile changed. I saw the way her eyes shifted to the door behind us. “Didn’t you promise me a proper introduction to private flying?” Her lips parted, her teeth edging over her lip enough to drive me crazy.
I looked around for the flight attendant. “Right now? Before we take off?”
She unbuckled her seat belt, crossing in front of me. Her hand trailing over my legs. “Let’s see if we can time it just right.” She winked. “Coming?”
And I knew then.
God help me, I was going to marry this woman.
T.A. Foster is a Southern girl whose heart and spirit are connected to the beach. She grew up catching rays and chasing waves along the North Carolina Outer Banks and now resides in the state with her husband, three children and canine kiddo.
T.A. has an undergraduate degree in Journalism and Mass Communication from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a graduate degree in Educational Psychology from Texas A&M University. When she’s not chasing her two-legged and four-legged children or trying to escape for date night, you can find her reading, writing, or planning her next beach trip.
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Get started now on the Kissing Eden Series
“Miss, you need to go ahead and turn off all of your electronic devices.” The flight attendant smiled while she shoved an overly packed bag into the compartment over my head.
I powered down my phone, and tucked it in the front pocket of my backpack before pushing it under the seat with my feet. The man next to me edged me off the armrest with his elbow. I sighed, realizing the three-hour flight to Houston from Raleigh would not be a comfortable one.
This was not how I pictured the start of my senior spring break. I blamed Brett.
I admit it was slightly reactionary to chop my hair into a shaggy shoulder-skimming do, and maybe I didn’t think through my options as carefully as I should have, but I knew Brett loved my long hair. He would tangle his fingers through it, and beg me to pull it down every time I sported a ponytail. I lashed out at him with the only silent weapon I knew he would notice. Writing take-me-back letters, stalking, crying, or begging weren’t my style.
“I think we’ve grown apart. We’re not the same people we were when we first started dating.” He said that. He actually said those words to me after dating for three semesters, one summer, and a Christmas break.
It was probably the shock of the conversation that kept me from pummeling him in my room. I thought we were going to grab some takeout and watch a movie. We had been planning a trip for spring break. I hadn’t packed a single thing, and we were supposed to leave in three days.
“I thought it was the right thing to do. You know, tell you now instead of trying to make it through a trip together. It’s time for us to end this.” He said it with a smile as if he was doing me a favor.
“Is there someone else?” It was the only question I could put together. My brain tried to wade through the muck of Brett’s words.
“Not exactly. You know, I just want to keep my options open.”
I didn’t know and I was tired of him implying that I understood what he was talking about.
He leaned over and patted me on the back as if I was one of his fraternity brothers. “You’ll get over this, Eden. You know we’ve run our course. It couldn’t last forever.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve gotta go. I’m meeting some of the guys back at the house.”
I could have tried to stop him, but rather than drag out a long breakup discussion, I let him walk out of my room. It was clear there wasn’t anything left to fight for. I walked straight to my bathroom and picked up the scissors.
“You from Texas?” the armrest hog asked.
“Uh. No. Visiting.” I shook the breakup from my mind.
“What part?” He was leaning closer, which I didn’t think was possible with the proximity of our seats.
“South Padre.” I desperately wanted to retrieve my phone and pretend I was busy.
He chuckled. “Yep, it’s that time of year. You must be a spring breaker.”
“I am. I’m meeting lots of friends there.” I paused. “And my boyfriend.” I had to force the last word from my mouth. There were no friends on the other end of this trip and certainly no boyfriend, but he didn’t need to know I was suddenly single.
He reached for the in-flight magazine and flipped through the pages. “Well, have a good time. It’s a week you’ll never forget.” He stopped on an article and his attention shifted away from me.
I didn’t know what I expected from this trip. Solo vacationing had never been my objective and something I had never done, but I wasn’t going to let Brett and his wishy-washy, keep-his-options-open plan stop me from experiencing my senior spring break at the beach. I had let Brett take the reins for way too long.
My parents had paid for my plane ticket as a Christmas gift, and I couldn’t waste it because of him. Of course, now I wish we had planned a spring break with my other friends, but Brett’s cousins had talked him into South Padre. They said the spring breaks on the Texas island were legendary, and Brett wouldn’t pass it up. I could be in a car on my way to Myrtle Beach or Daytona with all the girls, but instead, I was on a plane to Texas, alone and squished next to a nosey, space-invading man.
I leaned back as we taxied to the end of the runway, closed my eyes, and waited for the plane to launch into the air, toward spring break.
Once we landed i
n Houston, I pulled my backpack from underneath the seat and turned my phone on. I had three missed calls from Brett. I didn’t want to talk to him. My anger toward him suffocated any creeping curiosity about why he was calling after three days of utter silence.
I still had one puddle jumper flight to Brownsville. From there, I would hop on the resort shuttle that would take me to South Padre.
“You be careful, young lady. Those Padre spring breaks can get a little out of control,” the man next to me warned. He had not taken any of my subtle hints.
I smiled, scooted down the aisle, and walked off the plane.
I had enough time between my flights to call Taylor, my roommate at Carolina for the past four years. It was a gamble to go potluck for roommate matching my freshman year, but the only girl from my high school I knew who would be there was the class know-it-all, teachers’ pet, who had no social skills. With the thousands of girls attending Carolina, I was willing to try for a roommate who at least knew what Facebook was. My parents had barely had time to close their car doors behind them before Taylor and I were on our way to Franklin Street for pizza. I knew our friendship was going to last longer than our college years. She was like the sister I never had. I tapped her name on my screen and waited for her to answer.
“Eden! How is Texas? Are you there?”
“Hey. I’m in Houston, waiting for my next flight.” I observed the passengers walking past me. I had never seen so many cowboy boots worn in one place. Everyone had them on.
“We just checked into the hotel and we’re headed to happy hour. You doing ok?”
“Happy hour?” It was only two o’clock. I questioned my usually conservative roommate, who never surpassed a self-imposed two-drink limit.
“It’s spring break. I think it’s happy hour all the time this week. How are you doing? Have you heard from Brett?”
I didn’t want to talk about Brett, but Taylor was worried and I knew she would keep pestering me about him until I could satisfy her concern. If the roles were reversed, I would do exactly the same thing. “He called three times when I was in the air, but I haven’t talked to him. I don’t want to.”