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“The person in charge of the Coast Guard training course happening the day of our scheduled delivery.”
I look to the beautiful blue sky.Fuck it.
“We’ll need to deliver on the Monday.”
“That’s three days late, Chaka.”
“You want me to deliver on a weekend?” he asks on a laugh.
He’s right. The area is heaving on a weekend. “I’ll confirm.” I hang up and kick the sand on a curse.
“Something up?”
I still.
Smile to myself.
That voice.
I drop my head and find her on the veranda. In a bikini. A small one. Her blonde hair wild, her dark eyes shimmering. She has a piece of mango in her hand, her lips wet with the juice. And all of my problems melt away. I hear music coming from inside, and I cock my head when London Grammar’sLose Your Headregisters. Our track. Her smile is fucking everything. So is the fact that shehasn’tripped strips off me for something that is way out of my control. She’s affected, of course she’s affected. Quiet, contemplative.
Clingy.
Needy.
Can’t say it’s unwelcome.
But I see acceptance. It’s so fucking stunning on her. She knows I’ll end this eventually. Whether today or tomorrow, I’ll end it. I won’t stop until I find him and kill him. It’s just life now. Our life.
I walk toward her, the music getting louder, and she drops her mango, backing up slowly, smiling knowingly. I follow her through the beach hut, stopping to get out of my wetsuit—which takes much longer than I want—leaving it on the lounge floor as Beau drops her bikini top. I follow it to the tile. Peek up. Oddly, it’s not the vision of her perfect boobs that holds me rapt, but the sight of her eyes sparkling wildly.Alive. Even now when we’re once again facing uncertainty, she’s alive.
Light.
It’s been four weeks since her last period. It’s gone unspoken but is screaming loudly. As are her words last night before the shit hit the fan at dinner. She wants to try. She wants a baby. I was hesitantbeforewe got the call that’s going to take us back to Miami—she’s still delicate. But at the same time, I want that with her. A beacon of peace. Light in our darkness.
For Beau to find that sense of tranquility again.
But is she ready? Is her body ready? Her mind? And, more painfully, after everything her body has been through, is it capable of carrying a baby? I know Beau is terrified it isn’t. She needs to know she’s not physically broken. I need to give her that.
Do.
Don’t.
Fuck.
I prowl forward again, my body temperature rising with every step, following her until we’re in the bedroom. She stops at the end of the bed. One nudge has her falling to the mattress. The way she gazes up at me could break me. With so much trust. So much love. I plant one fist into the sheets by her leg, the other on the other side, and crawl up, settling just right so my face is in line with her stomach. And I worship every inch of her skin, kissing her from one side to the other, over and over, inhaling her scent, kissing her scar, as she weaves her fingers through my hair, humming happily. Sometimes, just being like this, so fucking close, so fucking in love with her, is as good as being buried inside of her.
Sometimes.
I kiss my way up to her face, tasting and smelling the sweet mango, and roll my hips, slipping into her easily. Her legs circle me, her arms hold me, her mouth adores me. Her breathy whimpers, my low grunts, her shallow cries, my extended moans, all mingle and meld together, creating the most beautiful music to make love to. My lips never leave hers. My groin grinds constantly. Her hips meet every roll. And when her short nails sink into my shoulders and she stiffens all over, I kiss her harder, pump firmer, groan louder.
Her yell of release triggers mine, and I come with force, groaning into her mouth as she whimpers into mine. And our eyes open at the exact same time. Meeting.
Love colliding.
I smile, inhale, and bury my face into her wet neck, tasting the salt of the air and of her sex sweat. “I missed you today,” I whisper, wondering why today more than any other day. Perhaps because after the call I took last night I know our time here with the sunshine constantly on our faces is coming to an untimely end. Life in St. Lucia is unbeatable. In fact, before last night, I was considering suggesting we buy a place here. Although I know that was already happening without saying.
“What’s going on with Danny and Rose?” Beau asks quietly, stroking soft circles across my back, making my shoulder blades pull together, my teeth gritting.
