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“So then I guess I’ve done you a favor by not inviting her along.” He flashes a teasing smile. “I was thinking…”
“Hmm?” I snuggle into his side and just… wander. Walk. Explore for the sake of exploration. “What were you thinking?”
“We could split up for a bit. You go one way, I’ll go another.”
“Youwantto separate?” My eyes widen in stunned disbelief. “Are you high?”
He chokes out a short laugh. “Greedy.” Bringing us to a stop and glancing over my head, he nods in that direction, so I turn and search for what he means. “You go in there and buy me something. A gift.”
“A lingerie store?” I study the darkened windows. The upscale signage. The elegant scroll work. That’s not a street vendor hawking goods for pennies. It’s a luxury store, and the prices will match. “You want me to go buy lingerie?”
“I mean…” His voice bounces with playfulness. “I suppose you could go somewhere else, if you must. But I’m just saying…” He grabs my jaw and drags me around until our eyes meet. “I wanna unwrapyou. Not a Jamaican souvenir. And in exchange, I’ll go to another store and buy something for you.”
“And you don’t want to go shoppingwithme?”Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!I could snag a pair of underwear off a rack in ten seconds flat and use the rest of my hour to explore the Island Paradise Convention Center for Aubs. Or the Institute of Medical Science. Both of which are within walking distance of where I stand right now. And best of all, doing so would not belying. Since splitting up is, in fact, Archer’s suggestion. Rather, I’m economizing my time. “Which shop will you go to for me?” I bring my hand up and tap my bottom lip with the tip of my finger. “You could buy me clothes, I suppose. Or jewelry made of shells. Or sunglasses.” Those, I actually want. I meet his eyes and plead. “I forgot my sunglasses on the boat, so if you happen to see some…”
Chuckling, he takes my left hand and strokes the rings I wear there. We never get this. We never get the ring finger thing, so now, for this week, at least, he seems intent to enjoy it. “I’ll find you a pair of sunglasses. And I’ll think of a gift you might like. What do you say? An hour? Two?”
Two would be better. But there’s only so long I want to be without him. Even when I’m on a mission to sneak around with my best friend, I have no desire to lose my free time with my husband.
“One hour.” I reach into my pocket and take out my phone to check the time. “It’s ten-forty-five. Basically eleven. What if we take the hour and meet up for lunch at twelve? We could exchange our gifts, eat, then we can explore the Green Grotto Caves like you wanted to.”
“Deal.” He leans in and wraps me up close. “And just so we’re clear; you’re going to be safe, right? Don’t get picked up by pirates. Don’t lose your soul to the scammers. And don’t get lost. For fuck’s sake,” he loses his composure, “don’t get lost.”
“I won’t.” My lips curl higher, his worry thickening at the idea of not being attached to me in a foreign place. “Meet back here?”
“Meet at the lingerie shop,” he agrees. “At the front doors. If you get done early and go for a walk, you’ll be able to find your way back easily.”
“Maybe I don’t want to buy lingerie,” I tease. Taking a step back and gently prying my hand from his grip, I leave his todangle. “Maybe I don’t want to squeeze into strappy underwear and feel like a stuffed pig.”
“I assure you,” he chuckles, though he remains in place as I take another step. “You will never look like a stuffed pig.” Reaching down, he readjusts his junk. “Buy whatever you want, babe. Surprise me.”
“Price limits?”I’m not the one with a yacht in the family, and staff asking me every three minutes if I want something.“Let’s set a cap.”
“Okay…” He brings his hand up and scratches his stubbled jaw. “I dunno. What if we say a hundred dollars? That’ll get you a decent amount of flossy underwear for me to destroy, but won’t break the bank.”
Thank god. I can afford that. “Alright.”
“One hundred dollars,” he reiterates. “And one hour.”
I nod, my heart thumping as I take another step. Six feet separate us. Six feet and all of an island. “Okay.”
“If you’re not here at twelve on the dot,” he grits out, stealing back one of the six feet I’ve traveled, “I’m coming for you. Don’t make me worry.”
“I’ll be here.”
“I have my phone,” he groans. “And you have yours. Even if you’re gonna be a minute late, you communicate so I don’t have a fucking heart attack.”
“You sure you want to split up?”Shut. Up!“This seems to be causing you distress, Archer. Is lingerie and sex with a stuffed pig worth it?”
“It’s worth giving you a minute to yourself.” His eyes flicker between mine. Fear beating in his stare. Anxiety wrinkling his lips. “You’re not made for twenty-four-seven obsession, Mayet. I know you need a minute to yourself sometimes, so…”
“So you’re sacrificing this hour for my independent streak.” My heart thrums just a little faster. “That’s kind of you.”
“One. Fucking. Hour. And no dead people. Now go.” He lifts his chin in farewell. In direction. “I’m gonna stay here till you walk through those doors. Then I’m turning away and giving you your independence. Don’t make me change my mind and turn clingy.”
I choke out a soft laugh and take a single step back. Then a second. I study my husband, his broad shoulders wrapped in a button-up shirt he wears just as easily to work as he does on an island. His upper chest, exposed to the sun, since vacation means he uses fewer buttons.
He still wears the chain around his neck, but the ring sits wrapped around his finger.
