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“Of course I am,” she said. She rolled onto her side and scooted close to him, and he rested his hand on her back as she laid her head on his chest.
He wanted so badly to believe her.
***
Rose knew there was more wrong than Luke was telling her. She didn’t want to force him to talk if he wasn’t ready, but she hoped that her presence and the closeness between them as she lay with her head on his chest communicated that she was here for anything he might need. He’d always had trouble admitting when he was struggling, but the previous night, he’d come to her about the worries seeded by his conversation with Alex, and that had been a huge step in the right direction.
Don’t start pulling away now, she begged him silently. Despite the pressures of the outside world, things between them were going so well. She couldn’t stand the thought of him closing himself off to her again.
“So I was thinking,” she said at last.
“Hm?”
“Names. It depends on gender, of course, but for a girl… maybe something with ‘E’? I’ve always liked Emily… Eden…”
“Elsa,” Luke offered.
“Do you think she’d get a lot of Disney jokes?” Smiling, Rose looked up to meet his eyes, and to her relief, she found the hint of a smile on his lips, as well.
“Maybe. But there are worse things to be compared to.” Something flickered across his eyes that she couldn’t identify, and her smile fell away.
“What about for a boy?” she asked as she laid her head back down.
“We could always name him after Wyatt.”
A laugh burst from Rose’s lips, and she shook her head. “We don’t need to give him that kind of ego trip. Besides, Rhys would be jealous.”
“Sure, but one of those names is considerably easier to learn to spell than the other.”
She heard the smile in his voice, this time, and she slowly allowed herself to relax. His fingers skimmed up her back, which her bikini did little to cover. She shivered.
“That’s fair,” she said. She let out a long sigh. “We should run whatever we decide on by Alex,” she said.
“Yeah. But maybe you should talk to him without me there, when it comes time for that. He’s not fond of me, as you can imagine.”
Rose shrugged. He was right, but she didn’t want to add to whatever he was already struggling with by telling him as much.
“He’ll get over it,” she said instead. “You two used to be so close. I really want us all to be able to get past this someday. For you guys to remember how to be friends. To forget about everything I screwed up.”
“It’s not on you. Neither of us handled things the way we—”
“Luke, please. Stop. Let me take responsibility.” Her fingers absently traced his chest, and she stared past him at the waves lapping at the shore. “I know I’ve made some pretty huge mistakes, and I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m just working on making everything right again.”
She felt him inhale deeply and release the breath.
“Well, things can’t be completely right until we’ve gone swimming,” he said. “We’ve got the ocean. Seems like a waste not to use it.”
Rose leaned up to kiss his cheek. “That’s a good point. Let’s go.”
Chapter Seventeen
The return home came far too soon. Rose would’ve preferred to spend at least another week in St. Croix—a week, a month, an eternity—but she knew she and Luke couldn’t keep missing work forever, even though she was almost certain Beatrice wouldn’t mind as long as she got to hear all the details about what they were doing on the island. After a week and a half of swimming, sunbathing, and making love so many times she lost count, Rose had more than enough delightful memories to carry back with her.
On her first day back at the office, she happened to pass Beatrice in the hallway, and the other woman’s expression shifted instantly from thoughtful contemplation to unconcealed delight. Her long auburn hair fell in ringlets, and the pencil tucked behind her ear nearly fell from its place when she hurried forward to grab Rose’s arm and steer her into the break room.
“So glad yer back. How was yer vacation?” The rise in Beatrice’s pitch would’ve made it clear exactly what she was asking even if Rose hadn’t gone into work expecting it. Beatrice’s Scottish accent was much less pronounced than it had been when Rose had started working for her—the longer she spent in America, the more she seemed to be trying to downplay it.
“We had a great time.” Rose’s cheeks were burning, and she fidgeted on her feet. She’d certainly regained her confidence in the bedroom since she’d gotten back with Luke, but there was a huge difference between what they did staying between them and having to repeat it to her boss.
