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Of course, I’m lying to Sunny. But if I told her Patty Duke might suspect something is going on with us, that she might have even suspected something back at Christmas, it would be impossible for Sunny to relax. Mom would support us, I think, but I get that what we’re doing is unconventional, and Sunny wouldn’t feel comfortable with her knowing our arrangement.
Sunny’s hand reaches for mine as the car pulls to a stop in front of an open-air resort entrance. A uniformed man in black linen shorts and a Four Seasons polo shirt opens Sunny’s door at the same time another man opens mine.
“Welcome,” the man says with a wide smile.
Our bags are whisked away, and my fingers intertwine with Sunny’s as we step into a grand open-air lobby. A slight breeze blows. Deep green potted palms in black ceramic pots decorate the entrance. The lobby opens onto an expansive rectangular swath of plush green grass, and off in the far distance are rock formations and then turquoise blue as far as the eye can see.
I squeeze Sunny’s hand and let my lips brush across her ear as I tell her, “Your eyes match the sea.”
She waves me off like I’m being ridiculous, but she keeps her hand in mine. Together, we walk alongside a uniformed middle-aged man to our room. He asks us where we are from and if we’re celebrating Valentine’s Day. I send a mental thank you to the Four Seasons employee who reached out and asked if I’d like to order anything or plan anything for the holiday. Valentine’s Day hadn’t been in my mental repertoire since high school when the student government sold paper valentines as a fundraiser. The person who accumulated the most paper hearts won something… maybe Cupid. I’m not sure exactly what the winner received, but I was the first Duke brother who didn’t win the ridiculous contest his senior year of high school. I came in third. Fitting, actually.
Sunny takes the conversational lead, all the while absorbing the scenery with wide eyes. Her flat sandals smack against the stone walkway. Doja, the man guiding us to our room, lives on Anguilla but is from St. Maarten, and yes, he goes back home frequently.
Doja gives us a tour of the room, pointing out the small kitchenette in a room to the side with a selection of coffee options, an expansive den with white linen furniture, stone flooring, and floor-to-ceiling glass doors that open onto a wide covered balcony with an expansive view of turquoise ocean. A plush king size bed with white linens is centered on one wall in the bedroom. On the balcony, there’s a soaking tub and a sitting area with two lounge chairs and a sofa.
Sunny follows Doja into the en suite bathroom, where they continue talking about Doja’s kids.
I wait in the bedroom, my gaze centered on the balcony hot tub. Yes, Sam and I don’t always see eye to eye, but he did me right when he recommended this location for a relaxing getaway.
After tipping the concierge, I toe off my shoes below a row of hooks, presumably for towels or robes. The suite has all the comforts of home with a breathtaking view. But the view outside doesn’t compete with Sunny.
Outside on the balcony, her skirt flits around in the breeze, and the setting sun casts a golden halo against her blonde strands. I step up behind her and brush her hair to the side and place a kiss against her shoulder.
“This place is amazing,” she says.
“Hhmmm.” Goosebumps rise along her arms as I brush the pads of my fingers up and down.
“Where did you learn about this place?”
“Read about it somewhere.” The lie rolls off my lips. It doesn’t matter that Sam recommended it; I simply don’t want to utter his name when in paradise.
“I’ve never been to a place like this.”
“Want to walk around? Check the place out?” It isn’t really what I want at all, but this week is all about her. “I booked you spa appointments for most of the days we’re here.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” She leans her delectable body against me, and my fingers explore the exposed riff of skin that’s teased me all day.
“This week is all about relaxing you.”
“You’re being so good to me.”
Her head presses down on my shoulder, her back to my front, and I fight the urge to pick her up and take her inside.
“I completed my rounds of reiki and acupuncture. I know it’s kind of doing double duty, like one or the other should suffice, but I figured we’re pulling out all the stops.”
I support the acupuncture Sunny endured because peer-reviewed studies found an improvement in fertility using acupuncture. The reiki bit is too eastern for my western-minded perspective, but I don’t think it will hurt. And I’m a big believer in the placebo effect, so if Sunny believes in it, I won’t say anything that might impede those results.
Sunny’s head lolls against my shoulder, her back still pressed to me. I breathe in the faint herbal scent of her shampoo and a touch of coconut.
“Is there something else you want to do?” I hope with all my might she says yes, because there is definitely something else I want to do.
She twists in my arms and walks me backward, directing me to paradise.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Sandra
His molten, golden-brown eyes singe. My body thrums with anticipation. Every time, it’s like this with Ian. The distance, the length of time between seeing him, gives me a much-needed emotional breather. Space to get my head on right and remind myself he’s doing this for me. We’re nothing more than two friends enjoying the act of sex.
