“A Honeymoon Bungalow?” Kayla’s voice was hollow, but she tried to hide her shock. She wasn’t even sure what gave her pause. Was it the ostentatious wealth of upgrading to a bungalow? They were several thousand dollars more a weekthan the suites, which were already outside Skye’s normal price range. If she stayed in hotels, they were usually the roadside variety with large insect populations. More often, she packed a ratty old tent and a rattier old sleeping bag or slept in the back seat of her car.
But really, the hard part of hearing that Skye was in a Honeymoon Bungalow wasn’t the bungalow part. It was the honeymoon part. Kayla had checked out all the room types on the Rainbow Sands website years ago when they’d won the package at the charity auction. The bungalows promised maximum privacy, including a soaking tub on the balcony overlooking the lagoon. The four-poster bed was enormous and surrounded by the sort of gauzy curtains that featured heavily in tropical fantasies.
Intellectually, Kayla had known that Skye and her fiancée had sex. Skye was a passionate woman and unlikely to date anyone very long without going to bed with them. Considering that they were engaged, it was obvious she and this doctor had been intimate. Still, she could know a thing without truly admitting it to herself. Somehow, sitting here in this rattan chair in Juliana’s stuffy office, serenaded by the Caribbean Sea smashing against the shore, Kayla finally understood what that meant.
Skye hadn’t cheated on her. After all, they had been broken up over a year. Right now, however, it certainly felt like a betrayal. Juliana, oblivious to the way Kayla’s world had jolted off its axis, continued along with the logistics of their stay. Kayla dimly noted discussions of a private pool for the wedding guests and the need for reservations at a handful of the fifteen restaurants within the resort. Fortunately, Mack was more attuned to her mood than Juliana.
“Could we circle back to this later, possibly tomorrow morning?” Mack slid her fingers between Kayla’s and gave hera little squeeze. “We’re a bit tired from the flight and I think we both need to rest a bit before we make any decisions.”
Juliana’s smile was just wicked enough to acknowledge that they were on their wedding trip while remaining professional. “Of course. Although we do need to speak about the wedding ceremony as soon as possible.”
This time it was Kayla who read the room. Or rather read the meaning of how Mack’s whole body tensed beside her. Before Juliana could dive into the ceremony details she said, “Tomorrow. First thing, we promise.”
Juliana’s mouth closed into a thin line, but she smoothed it over with her words. “Of course. This week, you are the boss. Whenever you are ready, please come to me here.”
As though summoned by mere thought, the woman who greeted them was back, this time carrying a thin paper folder with a pair of key cards. “Your luggage has already been delivered to your room. If you’ll please follow me.”
Mack’s hand settled onto the small of Kayla’s back as they strode down a curving staircase of pale stone. The possessive pressure pushed away the last of her discomfort, and she was finally able to focus on the view.
They passed an open-air restaurant and a meandering pool dotted with a dozen or more couples and half as many swim-up bars. At first, the hand was a comforting pressure clearly meant to soothe her frayed nerves. As they continued through the meticulously manicured grounds, however, Mack was essentially keeping Kayla from tripping over her own feet. She was too busy studying every chair and swimmer, looking for Skye’s round cheeks and streak of green hair. Considering how many other queer couples had been lured in by Rainbow Sands’ aggressive public relations campaign, the task required her full attention.
Before she knew it, however, they were climbing a narrow set of painted concrete stairs, and their guide was explaining the room amenities. A scrawny tortoiseshell cat waited for them at the top of the steps, sitting regally on the stoop for all the world like a feline doorman. At a flick of the wrist and a click of the tongue from their guide, the cat leapt easily onto the flat railing and returned its haughty stare to them.
Mack reached out and scratched under the cat’s chin, earning a loud purr. “I didn’t realize the room came with private security.”
“We used to ask guests not to feed them in hopes they would leave the grounds, but they proved very effective beggars. Don’t let her fool you, though. She is well cared for.”
While their guide opened the room, Kayla joined Mack to shower their new friend with love. She was more of a dog person, of course, but she would take any fluffy companion she could get. They split their focus, Mack scratching cheeks and chin while Kayla lavished the cat with long pets that made her stand up and wiggle her haunches happily.
Mack said, “She reminds me of Princess.”
Kayla couldn’t help laughing. “She’s spoiled enough, that’s for sure.”
Princess had been her mother’s cat when they were teenagers and had been nothing short of a domestic terrorist in their home. She had decided she owned the house and that Kayla and her parents weren’t paying nearly enough rent to justify their presence. Then Mack had moved in and the dynamic snapped completely.
The first time Mack had walked through the door, Princess had sauntered into the living room, prepared to hiss or attack. She’d clapped eyes on Mack and stopped dead. She hadn’t blinked for a solid minute, then Mack had gone over and knelt in front of her. Princess’s dignity had melted like ice cream inJuly. She had flopped down, presented her belly, and yowled a desperate plea for love. She had gone from aloof observer to lovesick devotee overnight. She slept in Mack’s bed every night, twirled around her feet every day, and butted her head against her shin so often that Mack had a semi-permanent bruise. The spell had never broken or even wavered. Mack had held Princess in her arms three years ago when they had to put her down, purring her devotion until her very last moment of life.
Kayla was so lost in the memories that the guide’s unexpected voice made her jump. “Is Princess your cat at home?”
“She used to be.” Mack turned reluctantly from the stray to enter their room. “Oh wow.”
Kayla had the same reaction when she entered their suite. When she played soccer, she traveled extensively, but not luxuriously. In her experience, hotel rooms were tiny, utilitarian, and dark. This room was anything but. They entered a kitchenette with a microwave and coffee maker tucked into a nook dominated by a fridge and bar cart.
“There’s beer, wine, water, and juice in the refrigerator. Red wine and liquor at the bar. All are complimentary and refilled daily,” their guide said.
Mack’s eyebrows shot up as she looked over at Kayla. The extravagance was new to Kayla, too, but she didn’t want their guide to think they were yokels, so she just shrugged. It was far from the last shock they had in store. The bed, larger than any Kayla had ever seen and positively dripping in pillows and linens, dominated the main room. It faced a full wall of glass with sliding doors leading out onto a sumptuous balcony dotted with wicker chairs and wooden loungers.
When their guide slid the doors open, a breeze heavy with salt and sun made the gauzy curtains dance. Mack followed their guide into the marble-tiled bathroom, complete with a two-person shower, but Kayla was drawn to the balcony. As shestepped across the threshold into the bright sun, the anxiety that had stiffened her muscles since coffee with Skye loosened at least three degrees. She wove through furniture toward the high railing, the crash of waves onto the shore a siren’s call. Off to her left, another set of gauzy curtains hanging from a wooden frame partially hid a free-standing soaking tub. She vaguely recalled reading that all the premier suites boasted balcony soaking tubs when she’d initially researched the resort two years ago. At the time, she wondered how one could possibly have enough privacy to bathe on a balcony. Being here now, raised three floors above the sparsely populated pool, beach, and walkways, she could imagine a romantic moonlit bath with Skye.
Kayla’s heart lurched at the thought of Skye. Would she and Dr. Wife Stealer take advantage of their tub? Had they already? She still hadn’t seen them, but they’d arrived before her and Mack. She studied the path, noting a few couples wandering by and a solo jogger. None of them were Skye. The beach was much farther away, but she still would have been able to spot Skye’s distinctive hair. Where was she? A bone-deep need to see her gripped Kayla. What if she couldn’t convince Skye to come back? What if she never got a chance to put her plan into action? The thought sent a wave of cold fear through her.
Kayla’s breathing hitched into a rapid, erratic rhythm. The cold edge of panic was seeping into her, and the low murmur of voices from the room behind her wobbled in and out like a bad Bluetooth connection. Kayla pressed her palms against the broad railing. It was painted concrete and pleasantly warm. Kayla focused on the feel of her skin against the surface. The way the sun had warmed the paint until it was a little sticky. She flexed her fingers, noting where they stuck ever so slightly to the surface. Grounding herself in her body allowed her to focus on her breathing, bringing it back into a more regular rhythm.
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
Mack’s voice snapped Kayla out of her spiral. The solidity of her, settling at the railing beside her, brought oxygen back into the world. Kayla closed her eyes and took two long, slow breaths. She was okay. Mack was here, by her side. She could do anything with Mack here.
“LaLa? What’s wrong?” Mack’s hand settled on her shoulder, even more solid and calming than her presence. She focused on the gravity of her touch and the way her own body pressed up into it.
