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Footsteps sound in the hallway.
“Good morning,” she says.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Sorry, I fell asleep on you last night. Too much champagne, wine and fresh air.”
I didn't want to wake her, so I carried her inside and put her to bed.
She looks around the massive kitchen and heads for a cabinet; pulls out the drawers and removes cutlery; places it on the table.
“Bacon, eggs, and sausages, okay?”
“It is, and it smells wonderful. Let me make breakfast tomorrow.”
“We can do it together. Mrs. Baton did most of this, I just reheated it.”
“What time did you wake up?” She asks after we start eating.
“At sunrise. It's a habit. I watched the sunrise and swam.”
“Do you swim every day? You always stay at a hotel with a swimming pool when you travel.”
“It's another habit. It helps to keep my leg strong.”
Harper hesitates.
I hate answering questions about my personal life. It’s part of the reason I don’t have many friends. The idea of opening up about my life is uncomfortable. Why do I find her curiosity cute?
“It’s okay. Ask.”
“Does it hurt? Your leg?”
“Rarely, if I hike for long periods of time, like six hours or more. That’s why I swim, it puts less pressure on it. I was born with it; I’ve learnt to live with it. So, there’s no problem with carrying you.”
She looks out the window.
“I can’t believe you’re still teasing me about that photo incident.”
A smile hovers around her lips.
“It turns out I enjoy teasing you.”
Harper blushes.
“I’ll wash up.” She gathers crockery.
I clear the table and wash up with her.
“What are we doing today?”
“We can swim and snorkel or go shopping on the main island.”
“Swimming and snorkeling sound wonderful. If you’re okay with it.”
I leave her to change while I get the snorkeling equipment from the shed.
“Do you have much experience with snorkeling?” I ask when she comes outside. I busy myself putting on my gear to stop ogling the curves barely hidden by her bikini.
