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“Who?” I ask before I realize what she means.
“Derek,” she says, with a laugh and nod in his direction. “Youfinally found the right man to hoist you up instead of pushing you down. And you married him.”
That question knocks into me and steals my breath. Because Kamaya doesn’t realize just how spot on she really is. My eyes turn to Derek, and I see him in a new light. A minute ago my mind was stuck in the past with a Derek who loved me recklessly but not fully. He fell into the category of men who unintentionally treated my dreams as less important—wanting me to put him before everything else.
But I’m not with that Derek anymore, am I? He’s changed. And so have I.
This Derek saw that my career was in trouble, and he was willing to do whatever was necessary to protect it. The difference is unmistakable. The Derek I dated in college was a boy. This Derek is a man. And it would seem he’s a trustworthy one.
“I sure did marry him.”
Don’t get too cozy, Nora. It’s just temporary.
“How many?” Derek asks abruptly the first moment we’re remotely alone.
“Five hundred.” My answer is lightning fast. “Wait, what are we talking about?”
He keeps his face pointed straight out over the helm of the boat toward the crystal-clear, turquoise ocean, but it’s clear his attention is zeroed in on me at his side.
After finishing up the interview, the four of us hopped in a hired car and drove to a large boat dock. Kamaya thought it would make for excellent photos to capture Derek and me on a snorkeling adventure in a coral reef with one of the local tours. This seemed like an excellent idea to me as well when I thought a coral reef was something we could walk to from a beach. Not exactly sure why I thought that, but I did. Now, however, I have quickly learned after buckling myself up into a bulky life vest that we cannot walk to it—we ride in a boat across the choppy ocean water and I hope my death doesn’t find me out there.
He glances down at me. “How many guys did you date after me?”
I grip the boat railing for support. “Excuse me? Nosy alert. I don’t think you get to ask me that.”
“I’m asking anyway. I want to know.” He cuts his eyes briefly off to the side to where Kamaya and Alec are talking with the captain (driver?) of the boat. I don’t know how to refer to the maybe-twenty-something-year-old guy about to steer our boat into an endless roaring ocean who looks like he’s barely old enough to drive a car let alone a vessel on the water. I’m not being fair. He’s probably a wonderful captain.
I just hate boats so much. Literally every movie ever that features a boat has it crashing and everyone drowning or being stranded on an island. I also imagine my hatred has something to do with the lack of control, but we’ll never know since the closest thing I have to a therapist isThe Great British Bake Off.
Derek hooks his finger into the shoulder of my life vest (one that he’s apparently opted not to wear until we get in the water since he’s not terrified of going overboard like me) and spins me to face him. He clicks it open and then drags up the fabric of my cover-up to reveal a few inches of my midriff that my bikini doesn’t cover.
“Hey! What the—”
“And I want to know what this is from too.” His finger softly brushes against the small scar on the right side of my abdomen. The one I got from surgery five years ago.
I yank my cover-up back down and glare at him—not because I’m particularly modest or uncomfortable, but because I don’t have my sunscreen on yet and I will fry like bacon. “What’s gotten into you? Why do you need to know these things all of a sudden?”Because he feels what you feel.A shift. An awakening.
The look in Derek’s eyes is burning. “Because you’re…” He seems frustrated, grasping for how to finish that sentence. His eyes meet mine again and I’m disappointed when somehow I know it’s notwhat he was going to say. “This week you’re my wife, aren’t you? I should know important details about you. So how many?”
I plant my hands on my hips, suspicion lacing my words. “Derek Pender. You’re not…you wouldn’t be riding the jealous train into Possessive City, would you?”
“Maybe…please just tell me how many, Nora. Put me out of my misery.” He looks so obstinate. So resolute. Possessive and defeated at the same time.
“I don’t think you want to play this game, sir. Especially when I tell you it was only two men compared to your millions of women.”
He grimaces but not for the reason I think. “Damn, Nora. Only two? Two is much worse.”
My mouth falls open and a laugh shoots out. I peek over my shoulder to ensure that Kamaya and Alec are still in conversation with the boat captain. I lower my voice just in case. “In what world is me dating two men worse than the many, many women you’ve dated?” And then I shake myself. “No, wait—none of it is bad because we weren’t together at all in those years! You were entitled to date who you wanted, and so was I.”
He bypasses my pragmatic statement and inches closer until he grasps the buckles of my life vest and clicks them securely together again. “Two is worse because it’s so specific. Two means you really knew them—and you can most likely still remember them perfectly.” He doesn’t let go of my life vest yet. “What were their names?”
“You need to learn manners.”
“Please.”He grins. “Please,Ginger Snap,will you tell me the names of the guys you dated?” I nearly gasp at the sound of my old nickname on his lips. A surge of excitement shivers through me.
Still, I eye him sidelong, half-worried he’s collecting names to give to a hit man by the rabid look in his eyes. “Liam and Ben.”
“No.”He sounds more defeated than anyone has been in thehistory of ever. “Ben? You dated a guy named Ben? Which was probably short for Benjamin. Are you for real?” He takes an anxious step away and then whirls back quickly. “Shit…he was a good guy, wasn’t he? A doctor? Bens are always doctors or baseball players.”
