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Chapter One
Hazel
The pictures didn’t do the place justice. For weeks, I’d been staring at every image I could find of the island of Jalokivi Meren, and even just the photographs had made me fall in love with the little place. But being here and seeing it in person, it doesn’t even compare.
Even in the middle of December, the sun is bright against the shimmering sea and soft white sand, and the warmth seeps into my skin. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
I glance over my shoulder and up, into the handsome chiseled face of my boyfriend, Brendon. “It’s even more beautiful than I was expecting,” I tell him honestly.
He smiles and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close and bringing me in so he can brush a kiss over my forehead. I lean into him happily, listening to the happy sigh he heaves. “How about you?” I ask, “Feeling a little more relaxed already?”
“Definitely.”
Brendon has been busting his ass at work lately, and while this trip is, in his words, part of his Christmas gift to me, I’m glad he made these plans. He deserves to unwind and relax. And now we’ve got nearly two weeks to ourselves out here.
After taking a few more moments to appreciate the scenery, we head inside. The inside of the building is nice, although it can’t compete with the splendor of the island. Brendon gets us checked in and a bellhop leads us to our room.
The room is pretty, spacious and open with a wide set of French doors opening out onto a balcony with a view of the beach. Brendon tips the bellhop and once the doors are closed behind us, he unceremoniously flops down into the center of the bed, letting out a satisfied groan as he stretches out.
His shirt rides up a little, exposing his abs and making me drool a little bit. Even after three years together, Brendon still gives me butterflies. He’s drop-dead sexy, every inch of him, and I still can’t quite wrap my head around why he picked me as a girlfriend.
He glances over and sees me looking. A lazy smirk spreads across his mouth. “See something you like, sweetheart?” he asks coyly.
The slight purr in his tone is enough to make my nipples tighten and heat flare between my thighs. “You know I do,” I reply.
“Well, get over here so you can enjoy it properly.”
I’m tempted, but I also feel a little grubby from the long flight and I was kind of hoping to jump straight into a shower. “Maybe I could clean up a little first?” I answer hesitantly.
He sits up with a little grunt. “Maybe we could clean up together,” he says in counteroffer.
I grin. “I like that idea,” I agree, “I’ll wash your back, you wash mine.”
And maybe I’ll give him a bit of a massage while I’m at it. I’ve noticed him rubbing at his neck more than once, and I know his back’s stiff. I imagine traveling’s tough when you’re over six feet tall and have to hunch.
Although with the first-class accommodations he’d made for us all the way here, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
Sometimes it’s still hard for me to wrap my head around the kind of money Brendon makes as a software developer, where lavish vacations like this are just a drop in the bucket. Although I suppose he’s more than just a software developer.
He started out that way, but after designing a finance app that quickly gained traction, he’d built his own company from the ground up. And by this year, Avengers Software House was the 23rdlargest software company in the country.
So, yeah, my salary as a kindergarten teacher is pretty pathetic by comparison.
But ever since we first started dating, Brendon has told me not to fuss over him spending money on me. He says that the most fun part of being wealthy is getting to lavish it on the people he loves. One of the first things he’d done upon making some serious money was to buy a house for his mom, and cars for the twins, his younger brother Eric and sister Carly.
It had made me uncomfortable at first, seeing him pay more on a single dinner than I paid for a week’s worth of groceries. And things like birthdays and our first Christmas together were especially hard, because the gifts I gave him felt so insignificant.
And the imbalance felt like more than just a financial one. Brendon is built like a god, with a tall, sculpted body and a chiseled face that looks like it belongs on the screen of a blockbuster action film.
All of which I’m appreciating as we make our way into the bathroom, and he strips while I get the water warming and peel off my own clothes.
Me, on the other hand, I’m not even in the same realm. I like to think I’m at least semi-attractive, but I’m no supermodel. After all, I think anything over a size “6” or something is considered “plus size” in that industry, so at a size that ranges between 14-16 depending on the clothing brand, I’d be considered positively planetary.
My face is okay, heart-shaped and lightly freckled with a petite nose and big amber eyes. I’ve been described more than once as “girl-next-door cute.” Which, overall, is not a bad description. But it feels downright frumpy next to Brendon’s impossibly good looks.
I glance in the mirror, where the two of us are pictured side-by-side, completely bare. Brendon sees me looking and wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind, resting his chin on the top of my head and admiring me in the mirror. “Absolutely beautiful,” he murmurs, tugging me closer.
I can see the reflection of my own face reddening. There’s a nasty little voice in the back of my mind just itching to respond with something self-deprecating, but I chastise it and shut it up, reminding myself that if Brendon wanted to be with someone else, he would be.
