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Isabelle
Rust and I walked to the beach, hand-in-hand, the fine sand cool between our toes. The landscape was a paradise painted with a splash of vibrant colors: azure skies, brilliant turquoise water, and a faint pink beach.
“I’m gonna miss this place so bad,” I said with a sigh.
I couldn’t believe it was already our last day in The Bahamas. The past week hadflownby. But it’d done our minds and bodies plenty of good. I could tell Rust was totally drained after the playoffs; he had cuts, welts and bruises all over his aching body, his eyes looked sunken and sallow, and he was obviously bummed his team had lost. But after a week in paradise, his spirit was totally renewed. I got my wonderful fiancé back.
Vacation was good formybody and mind, too. With all the time we spent on the beach, lying out in the sun, watching the waves roll to shore and the lovely sunsets every night, I got a lot of soul-searching done.
“Don’t you worry,” he said, offering me a smile. “We’ll have plenty of vacations together.”
“I know,” I said. Heck, we were going to Italy later this summer. It was going to be my first time seeing the country where the Roccos originally came from. “It’s so gorgeous here, though. I’ll miss it. But that’s nothing new; I always get sentimental on vacation.”
“Well, maybe we can come back here next year? Me, you, and the baby?”
We didn’t know if the baby was going to be a boy or girl. We wanted to be surprised. Until then, it was simply “the baby.” We still had a long way to go—I’d only just begun the second trimester—but the excitement was building with every day.
He gave my hand a squeeze. “We can start a tradition. What do you think?”
I grinned. “I think I’d like that.”
“Me too.”
We strolled the beach, looking for the perfect spot. The people we walked past stared at us. Rust wore a ball cap and shades; his “disguise,” as it were, because people tended to recognize him everywhere we went. The hat and sunglasses never seemed to work—people stared at him no matter what. I guess when you’re that tall, handsome, and muscular, people just sense that you’re somebody important. Sometimes, I wondered if his disguise only attractedmoreattention, because people tried to figure out who he was.
But Rust didn’t notice people staring at us anymore. He wasn’t embarrassed to be seen with me. Not after proposing to me in front of the whole world.
Rust raised my hand to his face. I caught him staring at my engagement ring, a lovestruck smile cresting his lips.
“I never get tired of looking at it,” he said with a happy sigh.
I giggled. “Honestly? I do the same thing.”
We found a quiet part of the beach and a couple of empty chairs at last.
“How’s this?” Rust asked.
“Looks good to me!”
Rust pulled his shirt over his head, the muscles in his broad chest flexing. I couldn’t help myself—drawn to him like a magnet, I sank my nails into his sizzling abs and stood on my toes, reaching for a quick kiss, which he happily gave me.
“Let me help with yours,” he said, turning me around.
He slipped my billowy cover-up off my shoulders. I wore a bikini beneath it.
“There’s something else I never get tired of looking at,” he growled in my ear from behind.
I giggled. “Oh? What’s that?”
He draped his protective arms around me. “This,” he said, and cradled my small baby bump in his gentle hands.
Rust was going to be such a good dad. I couldn’t wait to see him with our little one.
“You’re sweet,” I said.
As soon as we sat, Rust popped off his chair. “Oops. I almost forgot.” He reached into our beach bag and held up a tube of sunscreen.
