Babymoon

by Abby Knox

  Seconds later, the pleasure washes over me as I bite down on my bottom lip so hard I’m afraid I might bleed.

  Chapter Nine

  Austin

  The coffee at Mello Toast is the best on any of the islands of The Pearl Crescent. The corporate coffee in the city on Pearl Island can keep their burnt beans. The resort has its good restaurants, but this is where the locals go for brunch.

  I sit outside and stare at the waves, thinking about what I did wrong with Sierra yesterday. I shouldn’t have kissed her like that. My feelings got the better of me; I can’t be alone with her like that anymore. It’s wise if we only see each other in public because I can’t be trusted.

  It serves me right that she was unusually reserved and quiet all through lunch and for the entire drive back to the hotel.

  She was so quiet that I had started to feel guilty for kissing her the way I did. So remorseful that I apologized for being so forward with her. She’d simply pursed her lips, studying me for a moment, and then went up to her room.

  I sip my coffee and gaze out onto the waves, considering whether I should try again and be more clear about why I was apologetic.

  And then, who should walk into the Mello Toast but her. Sierra.

  I set down my coffee, sit back in my chair, and take in the welcome sight of her. She has a strange, avid look in her eye. Her black, embroidered cover-up flaps in the sea breeze, and her hair is twisted into a bun on top of her head. Her face is flushed like she’s already been walking the beach and had too much sun this morning.

  Sierra looks like she wants to tell me something about as much as I want to tell her something.

  I stand up and offer her a seat across from me.

  “Hi,” she says. “I think I ought to apologize.”

  “I think you need to rethink that,” I reply, prompting her brow to furrow in confusion.

  When the server brings her a coffee, she nods sweetly up at her, then grips the mug in both hands and sniffs. Her nostrils flare like a rabbit before she takes an appreciative sip. Every freckle, every twitch, makes me fall deeper and deeper. I want to make coffee for her every morning just to watch her do that thing with her face. I want to sit across our shared kitchen table and just marvel at her.

  “Austin, it’s okay if you’re not into me. I shouldn’t have made you feel obligated to kiss me yesterday.”

  I down the rest of my coffee and rub my tummy. It was rumbling for some fresh scrambled eggs a minute ago, but right now, I can’t eat a bite until I say what I have to say to Sierra.

  “Sweetheart, listen. You might think that the kissing was your idea. But trust me, I’d been thinking about kissing you since the second I saw you.”

  Sierra’s eyes flash, and she looks down into the depths of her black coffee. She chuckles, “Guess I’m not all that bad to look at in a swimsuit after all.”

  She’s not getting it. So I’m going to be straight with her, throwing all caution to the wind. I’m still not interested in being her vacation fling. I don’t know what this is between us, but it’s real, no matter how I try to avoid it. “No,” I say. “I meant the second I met you on the tarmac. That’s when I knew I liked you. That’s the first time I wanted to kiss you. You asking didn’t matter; it was going to happen. What does matter now is what do we do about this?”

  With wide, scared, and curious eyes, she rasps, “Do about what?”

  “About the fact that I can’t stop thinking about you. About the fact that I try to avoid you, to be professional, not letting myself get tangled up in a fling with you because you’re leaving the island in a week and a half.”

  A mischievous smile spreads across her face. “That all sounds like a personal problem for you to figure out because it’s causing you to send mixed signals.”

  “How so?”

  “Well,” Sierra explains, fidgeting with the handle of her coffee mug. “I thought you weren’t into me. You kissed me yesterday, and then you stopped. So I thought we would be friends, and I was trying to be okay with that. So …You mean you liked the kiss?”

  I’m about ready to knock over the table and grab her by the shoulders. “Sierra, are you for real? I…just…I mean… God, I’ve never been this tongue-tied around anyone. You mess with my head, and I don’t know what to say, and when I do talk, I say the wrong things. Fuck. I’m waking up in the middle of the night, after having dreams that I’m asking you to—” I cut myself off, but her eyes beckon me to continue.

  “Asking me to what, Austin?”

  It’s too soon to admit this … but fuck it. It’s the island magic, making me blurt it out. “To let me be the one to put a baby in you.”

  Sierra stares back at me, blinking.

  People at a nearby table turn and smirk. Another table titters. Someone gasps and drops a fork, and still others laugh.

  She folds her hands flat on the table and looks down at her fingers.

  I scrape my hands over my scalp. “Well, that could’ve been phrased better.”

  Chapter Ten

  Sierra

  I spent the last 12 hours thinking he wasn’t into me, but he is?

  I whisper though it’s futile because everyone around us at Mello Toast is listening. “Are these just wild, wet dreams, or is there more to it than that?”

  Austin shakes his head, blows out a breath, and darts his eyes to the blue sky above as if seeking answers.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I say.

  “It means yes to both. I can’t believe I’m saying it, but you broke me, Sierra. Every time I close my eyes, I’m making you pregnant. I’m sorry. I can’t keep my distance when we’re together. You put inappropriate thoughts into my head. So we’ve either got to get this out of our system, or we’ve got to explore this thing between us.”

  “I gotta go,” I say, standing and backing away.

  “For how long?” Austin’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down. I hate that I’m making him feel anxious, but what does he expect?

  I look at him over my shoulder as I walk away. “A woman takes as long as she needs. I’ll need to make a pro/con list.”

  It’s true. I do need to make a pro/con list. Because what Austin has said to me is preposterous.

  Having fun is one thing. A lifelong commitment around a shared child is another.

  But then again: did he actually ask me, or was he simply telling me about his dreams? His only clear suggestion was to “explore this thing between us.”

  I tap my marker against my lip because it helps me think. Does his suggestion fit the mission of Babymoon or not?

  “That legal pad is going to get soaked.”

  I look up at Jax, who is standing on the platform at the stern of the speedboat, being fitted into her wet suit.

  “Pro: he’s smart. Con: he’s a little too humble.”

  Jax snorts as she zips herself in. “As if humble is a bad thing. If anything, we need more humans with a little bit of humility.”

  I love that she doesn’t see the irony in her words, considering she has such an intensely hot body that she looks gorgeous even in a wet suit. “I disagree. We need more people who know their worth. Like you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “All right, moving along. We don’t need to get into one of your philosophical discussions; we’re about to go parasailing for the first time. Now put that away and soak it up.”

  I perk up. “Philosophical discussions…That’s it! He’s not a big talker but when he does talk? He’s intense. Also, a good listener.”

  Jax cocks her head at me. “Are you making a pro/con list for his sperm or a relationship?”

  “Do you have to be so crass?”

  “Sierra, have you met me?”

  “Have I met the version of Jax who is about to go parasailing even though she’s terrified of heights? No. Never met her.”

  “Haha. Have fun with your list. And while you’re at it, you need to change that list heading from ‘Having sex with Austin’ to ‘Havi
ng a relationship with Austin.’ Because that’s where you’re headed, and for the record, I approve all of the above.”

  I stare at my friend. This is illogical. Austin might say he wants to explore this chemistry between us, but he makes no sense.

  “Con: he’s delusional.”

  Jax shakes her head at me, then blows me a kiss, and she’s in the water.

  “Pro list: he’s direct and says exactly what he wants.” I say this out loud even though I’m alone with Brooks, who steers this vessel. I remind myself I’m in paradise, and there are zero repercussions for what I’m talking about out loud.

  “Con: I don’t know what I want.

  “Pro: adventurous spirit.

  “Con: I barely know him.”

  I tap my marker against my lip and stare behind the boat. There, I see something I never thought I would see: Jax, sailing over the water, the wind in her hair, forgetting that she is afraid of heights and having the time of her life.

  Next, it’s my turn.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sierra

  “May I?”

  I look up from where I’m lounging at the beach, and it’s a vaguely familiar-looking man towering over me. My heart leaps for a second, thinking that it’s Austin. My pulse calms down when I see it’s not him. My eyes flick down to his wrist, where he wearsthe official wristband for the resort. He’s gesturing to the empty lounger next to me.

  I tell him he can join me as long as he doesn’t mind giving up the chair when my friend arrives in a few minutes.

  “That’s okay; this will only take a few minutes,” he says.

  I laugh. “Why does this sound strangely menacing?”

  The man squats down to face me, and I recognize him then as a memory from our first night on the pier comes back. “Wait a minute, I know you,” I say. “You were at the bar the other night.” Not one of the kids from the yacht, but some other guys we also talked to briefly.

  He looks a little too proud of himself and tugs at the buttons of his polo. “I’m flattered you remember me.”

  Absentmindedly, I say, “We talked to so many people.”

  We share an uncomfortable silence, in which he looks like he’s waiting for me to engage him in some sort of conversation. I wait it out. I’m not about to fill the silence with patter. Not my style.

  “Burke Belcher,” he says, holding out his hand. “I was hoping you’d actually remember me from earlier. Like, way earlier. in fact.”

  “Really?”

  “You’re Sierra Kennedy. Surely, you remember my family?”

  This is where I should get up and run away, but I’m curious how the hell this guy knows me. “Where did you get that impression? Should I?”

  He laughs and nods, and I get an intensely creepy feeling that he’s about to admit he’s a Class A stalker. “My family is in the real estate business. Our families go way back; we’ve worked on several projects together.”

  The hairs on my neck stand up. “Excuse me, how do you know who I am?”

  He shrugs goodnaturedly, but I’m completely spooked. “Your father might have mentioned your little vacation to my father. My partner and I recently sold our tech company, so we’re celebrating by traveling around the world, so we thought we’d make a pit stop and say hello. You probably heard of our startup; my family brags about it endlessly.”

  He tells me the company's name, but I have no clue what he’s talking about. He launches into a long description, none of it I understand. He speaks for about five minutes and doesn’t stop to ask me a single thing about me or what I’m doing here.

  “I’m really not involved in my family’s business, so I’m sorry if I have no clue what you’re talking about at all.”

  Burke, in his way, also has not a clue. “No worries. Just thought I’d do your dad a favor and put myself out there as another option for your … family planning.”

  Oh. My. God. My parents somehow coerced a work colleague’s son travel all this way as a last ditch effort to keep me from having a baby out of wedlock. As much as all of this throws me for a loop, I shouldn’t be surprised. My father is a world class manipulator. And fearful. More than anything, he fears anything that might reflect poorly on the family.

  I have to ask. “And you’re just okay with being asked to present yourself to me like a prize race horse?”

  This guy is completely bewildering. “Well, I am the third most eligible billionaire under 40 in the Financial Times.”

  I squint at him. “The Financial Times has a list of eligible bachelors?” This day gets weirder by the second.

  Thank god, here comes Jax, soaked through to the skin and looking invigorated after ...whatever she and Brooks got up to after we went parasailing.

  “Hey!” I wave at her like I’m half-mad, just to be sure to get her attention.

  She spots me and comes running up. I wish Brooks were with her, but alas, he is not.

  Burke turns and sees Jax. “Here comes trouble,” he says.

  What does that even mean when people say that? He doesn’t even know us.

  He turns to me and says, “It’s been wonderful talking to you, and I wondered if I could buy you a drink tonight.”

  “You’re in my seat,” Jax says, her voice slightly edged with impatience.

  With that, Burke stands and nods to both of us. “Well, hope to see you two tonight at Calypso. Should be worth your while.”

  “Holy shit, you look hot!” The compliment comes from Jax, I glance down at my new bikini, and I admit it is the most risqué item of clothing I may have ever owned. All that’s separating my tits from direct ultraviolet rays is a piece of white cloth about the width of a man’s palm. The triangle of fabric on the bottom is even smaller. A shiver runs down my spine when I think too hard about that comparison.

  “Thanks,” I say to my friend, who is graciously blocking the sun from my eyes as I look her up and down. “And you look hot too. Like a very hot, very wet drowned kitten.”

  “Kitten!”

  “I thought ‘drowned rat’ was insulting.”

  “I’ll take it,” Jax says, plopping down on the lounge chair that I’m saving for her. I’ve packed a small cooler of water and snacks, and she immediately digs it. “Wow, thanks, mama,” she says through a mouthful of cheese and tomato sandwich that I assembled from the small grocery store at the resort.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So, Brooks has a nature lesson with the kids at DragonZone after lunch, but after that, he’s free. Are you still up for a foraging tour?”

  I smile though my eyes are closed as I’m enjoying the heat and the rays. “You’re spending every waking moment with that man if at all possible. Are you sure it’s just a fling? Are you sure you’re not filling every possible moment, so you don’t have to think about the fallout of skipping your wedding?”

  Jax lifts one shoulder but can’t fool me as I turn my head to check her expression. The smile creeping across her face is a dead giveaway.

  “You like him,” I say.

  “Yeah. I thought this was just going to be a casual vacation thing. I even told Brooks about my rather bizarre circumstances—well, some of it—and he’s unfazed.”

  She seems happy, which is something I haven’t seen from her in a while. She might be a successful model in her own right, but her life back in the States is out of control. Through no fault of her own, she’s been caught up in the shady dealings of her music producer father. It’s truly appalling the expectations they put on her. I have a feeling Jax is going to extend her time on the island.

  “He’s not your usual type,” I say, thinking of the slightly nerdy Brooks and his tendency to talk endlessly about birds, flowers, tree frogs.

  All of a sudden, another presence is blocking out the sun. I look up, and the familiar shape of Austin Fisher is silhouetted against the azure South Pacific sky. “Hi,” I say.

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  “Yes, we do,” I say.

 
“Are you finished with your pro/con list?”

  “Yes.”

  If I thought this day couldn’t get any weirder, I’m now being kidnapped.

  Austin has thrown a beach blanket over me and is lifting me into the air without another word.

  “What are you doing?”

  He doesn’t say. He simply scares the liver out of me by tossing me over his shoulder and carrying me away from the beach, wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito.

  “You’ve had enough sun.”

  “Where are you taking me?!”

  “Out of the sun.”

  “Can you put me down, please? And be more specific?”

  Austin sets me down when we’ve reached a stand of shady trees set back from the beach.

  I huff in disgust and unwrap myself, shoving the blanket at him. “Was that necessary?” I bluster. “I can talk to you just fine from my lounge chair at the beach.”

  “Not in that outfit, you can’t.”

  “It’s an adults-only section of the beach. I’m not corrupting anyone by being there with a two-piece.”

  “My god, it’s not a two-piece. It’s barely one-piece.”

  “Thank you, I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off, but now that it’s getting terrible reviews from you, I’ll go take it off and wear my caftan for the rest of the trip.”

  He grits his teeth and tells me, “You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t get the assholes who come here. They’re all staring at you. It’s disrespectful.”