Page 7 of One Week in Paradise

We wheel our suitcases into a wall of heat the second we leave the airport.

It feels like the air is on fire. The sun beats down on us without relenting.

There’s a brightly coloured installation sign that reads WELCOME TO JAMAICA right outside the airport, and we all take turns posing in front of it.

While we’re waiting for our turn in front of the sign, Cash sheds his sweatshirt.

Underneath it, he’s wearing a white string vest that leaves very little to the imagination.

I sneak a glance at him and take in his subtle but impressive muscles.

My gaze drops down to the defined V below his belly button and the trail of light, wavy hair that dips into the waistband of his sweatpants.

‘Bailey, Cash, your turn!’ Penelope yells. She grabs my phone out of my hand. ‘Tell me what you want. Think of me as your personal photographer whenever you need me this week.’

She’s a welcome distraction from my sudden ogling of Cash’s admittedly attractive body.

‘How do you want me?’ Cash asks once we’re in front of the sign.

It feels like a loaded question, and I swallow. I’m also acutely aware that the others are all watching. I catch Bea’s eye briefly, and that quizzical look is still there.

We need to make this believable.

‘Put your arm around my waist and smile,’ I instruct.

He does what I say without any resistance and smoothly snakes his arm around my waist. His fingers ghost over the slightly exposed area of skin where my crop top ends, and I bite back the urge to shiver.

Penelope spends the next two minutes taking photos of us.

She’s obviously a pro. Without having to be prompted, she gets as many angles as humanly possible and shouts out helpful instructions like ‘ Cash, turn your head a teeeeeeny bit to the left. No, no, too much. Now, that’s too little. Perfect !’

Cash takes it all in his stride and commits to becoming mine and Penelope’s puppet for the photos.

Once Penelope assures us that she’s definitely got what she calls The Money Shot , I move to step away from Cash.

‘Hold up,’ Cash says. He keeps his grip on my waist. To my surprise, he pulls out his own phone, opens the camera app and taps the ‘front camera’ button. Our faces quickly fill his screen. ‘Come on, smile.’

I do as he says, my lips splitting into an easy smile. Cash grins too, that beautiful sunshine smile again, and snaps the photo.

‘You don’t look half bad,’ he smirks, finally pulling his arm away from me.

‘Someone has to be the hot one in this relationship,’ I throw back to him.

He blinks twice, then laughs. ‘Fair.’

Penelope hands me back my phone, and I quickly scan through the photos she took.

If I’m being honest, they’re brilliant .

Cash and I look every bit the loved-up couple ready to spend a romantic week in Jamaica together.

But for some reason, I prefer the photo Cash took on his phone.

Penelope’s photos look staged, but we look natural in Cash’s one. Like we’ve been together for years.

‘Will you send me that?’ I ask him as we follow the rest of the group towards the blissfully air-conditioned taxi waiting for us.

‘You going to post it?’ Cash raises a brow.

‘Would you mind?’

Cash scratches at his jaw. He does that every so often when he’s really thinking about his answer. ‘I wouldn’t.’

‘Then, I think I will. I’ll do a carousel grid post with some other photos thrown in.’

Cash gives me an easy shrug. ‘You’re the professional. I’m just here to do what you tell me to.’

It’s a throwaway comment, and I know I shouldn’t read into it, but I still feel bad about the way I snapped at him at the airport.

‘I’m not your boss,’ I mumble. ‘This is your holiday too. You don’t just have to do whatever I say.’

His lips curl up into a sly grin as he meets my gaze. ‘Maybe I want to.’

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Cash was flirting with me. But I do know better, so I brush off his playful tone with a roll of my eyes.

He doesn’t like me , I remind myself as I climb into the large taxi waiting for us. He’s just doing me a favour, nothing more.

Our resort is about an hour’s drive from the airport.

Penelope points out landmarks and interesting attractions as we drive past them, but I pay very little attention.

I didn’t sleep much on the flight, and it’s starting to hit me.

My eyelids feel heavy, and keeping my head upright is starting to hurt.

‘Here.’ Cash pulls his travel pillow off the strap of his carry-on and hands it to me. ‘Use this. It’s pretty comfy.’

‘I’m fine,’ I yawn. ‘We’ll be there soon.’

‘Penelope says we’ve got another forty minutes.’

Forty minutes ? I snatch the pillow from Cash and wrap it around my neck. I’m immediately hit with Cash’s scent. I’ve never noticed it before, but now it floods my senses. I realise that it’s unmistakably him. And I quite like it.

I lean back into the pillow and close my eyes. I’m out like a light within seconds, my hazy thoughts filled with images of Cash hovering over me, his lips twisted into a sultry smirk, his thigh pressed between my legs.

‘We’re here, Bailey.’

Cash gently jostles me awake after what feels like no time at all.

When I open my eyes, the others have already climbed out of the taxi, and it’s me and Cash left.

His grey-green eyes crinkle with a hint of a smile as he watches me stretch and rub some of the sleep out of my eyes.

I reach for my carry-on, but he easily grabs it and takes it with him as he climbs out of the taxi.

‘Welcome to the You and I Couples Resort,’ Penelope says with a wide grin once I’ve exited the taxi. ‘Your little bit of paradise for the next week. We pride ourselves on creating the ultimate romantic experience for our couples, and we just know you’re going to love your stay with us.’

The resort is stunning. I pull my phone out to take a video, and I’m not the only one. Lacey, Bea and Sara are all spinning around on the spot, making sure to get every angle possible.

We’re standing in a large driveway in the middle of a sprawling green garden that stretches out into the distance.

Large palm trees line the driveway leading up to an enormous white building with oak wood doors and windows.

The large doors at the entrance are open, giving a sneak peek into the glamorous reception area where a row of smartly dressed men and women wait to greet us.

I can see a sliver of white sand behind the hotel.

‘This is the main entrance,’ Penelope explains, walking us up the driveway.

‘There are several apartments attached to this building here, but you’ll each be staying in one of our private standalone suites at the south end of the resort.

We only have five, and I promise you, they are the height of luxury.

I know you all must be tired, so we don’t have anything too strenuous planned for today.

Go to your rooms, relax, explore the resort in your own time.

And then we’ll meet for dinner at The Blue Mahoe.

We have three restaurants in the resort.

The first two are open to all guests at any hour, and you don’t require a booking.

The Blue Mahoe is our Michelin-starred luxury restaurant headed up by Chef Bernard Pépin. ’

‘Oh, I love him!’ Meera says suddenly. ‘He did a pop-up in London last year, and it was divine .’

Penelope grins. ‘Yes, you’re all in for a treat.

The Blue Mahoe is by reservation only, and we’ve booked it out just for you this evening.

We’ve also got a candlelit meal on the beach just behind the restaurant planned for you all later in the week.

But if you’d like to dine again outside of these two meals, please let me know, and I’ll happily arrange that for you.

After that, we’ve arranged for some local cocktails at the cabana bar by the pool. ’

Everyone murmurs in excitement and anticipation for tonight, but I can’t bring myself to join in. I’m still so damn tired.

‘What time is dinner?’ I ask, barely managing to conceal my yawn.

‘7pm,’ says Penelope. ‘So you’ve got plenty of time to have a quick nap.’ She throws me a wink.

‘Is there a dress code for tonight?’ Bea asks.

‘It’s a Michelin-starred restaurant,’ Lacey says. ‘Dress to impress.’

‘Exactly,’ says Penelope. ‘Now, off you go. I’ll see you this evening.’

I’m on autopilot as we follow the helpful porter to our suites.

The resort is so big we have to take a golf cart to get to the south end.

The check-in staff inform us that ours is close to Bea and Marcus’s, so the four of us hop in the same golf cart.

Cash and Marcus sit up front with the porter, peppering him with questions about the cart.

I hear Cash asking if he can drive, but the porter shakes his head and mumbles something about insurance and liability.

It’s hard to focus on them. Not only because I’m so tired but because Bea is staring me down. She’s not subtle about it either. I don’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed at how ballsy she is.

‘I think I’m already starting to tan,’ I say in an effort to be polite. ‘Feels so good to be under the sun, right?’

‘Sure,’ says Bea, like she doesn’t care at all. ‘How long have you two been together?’ She nods at Cash.

‘Not long,’ I say lightly, hoping I don’t sound as nervous as I feel. I decide to bite the bullet. ‘Obviously, you’ve heard about me and Ethan.’

‘I think everyone’s heard.’

‘Not Lacey,’ I say, as if that means anything.

Bea snorts. ‘She’s in her own one-million-follower world. She doesn’t notice anything if she’s not involved somehow.’ She pauses and clears her throat. For the first time, she seems a little unsure of herself. ‘You know, The Video was—’

Our golf cart grinds to a halt, and I’m spared from whatever it is she wants to say about The Video. I take advantage of the opportunity and hop out of the cart before she can say another word.