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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Becca

Spreading my arms out wide, I fall backward on the bed. My body bounces slightly. I’m exhausted. Today was a long day, filled with snorkeling in the cave, picnicking, boogie boarding, sunbathing, and throwing Logan’s football on the beach with Roscoe, their dog.

The door clicks, and John appears with a towel knotted at his hips. He’s called me stunning, but he’s the one dusted with water beads, looking delicious. Playfully, he shakes his hair out over me, like a dog. At least he has short hair, I think to myself as the water hits my face and arms.

Giggling and pretending that I want him to stop, I push my hands against his chest. A smattering of hair covers his chest. His body hovers above me, and I caress his taut, wet muscles. He’s masculine in every way.

His square jaw.

His muscles.

His protectiveness.

His XL.

John closes the distance between us, pressing an open-lipped kiss to my mouth.

One kiss turns into ten, and I feel him growing and hardening against me.

A purr slips from my lips. I’ve never been as sexually aroused as I’ve been on this trip.

Maybe I’m releasing everything that’s been bottled up for years. Or should I say unused?

When he goes to slide my bathing suit coverup off my arms, I jerk in pain.

As he presses into a push-up position, his eyes round. “You’re burnt to a crisp. Damn, baby, do you have any aloe?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t usually burn.”

He pushes off the bed, discards his towel on the floor, and quickly puts on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. “I’m going to the sundries shop to buy some.” He pours me a glass of water. “Drink so you don’t get dehydrated.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. It hurts when the lightest fabric on earth touches your skin. Drink.”

I sit up to drink the water. While he’s gone, I look at myself in the mirror, and I’m a shade below a lobster shell. I push my finger against my chest. White appears, then back to red. The same with my arms and legs.

Sliding the ring from my hand, a white band circles my middle finger.

It brings me back to John being so protective and instinctively knowing what to do when I was hung on the icicle.

How he made me eat so we would have enough energy to—well, that’s not in the cards.

He’ll probably be mad, since he’s been hinting around all day, but staying true to his word that he wouldn’t make Corbin uncomfortable, his teasing was always whispered in my ear.

As I slip out of my bathing suit and coverup, it’s an exercise in slow motion torture.

The fabric sticks to my skin like the material is part of my largest organ.

When I peel it back like a bandage, I flinch in pain.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip, as I curse myself for not using sunscreen today.

We were in the cool, damp cave and driving with the breeze blowing, so I didn’t realize how much sun I was getting.

I already had my starter tan, and it’s out of character for me to burn .

It takes patience, which I’m currently running out of, to remove my bathing suit completely. The fabric clings to my tomato-red skin and with each tug, I squint in pain.

When I’m finished, I let out a careful breath as if it will cause more pain. Gingerly, I settle under the lightweight throw at the end of the bed and wait for John. Just the thought of something cool hitting my skin makes me need it more.

“I’m back,” John says a little louder than normal. He rustles the plastic from the bottle and appears with the natural green gel. He glances at the floor where my clothes are uncharacteristically strewn. “Are you in pain?”

“Just when I move, or something touches me.” I grimace.

John curls his hand around the bottle of aloe, removing the cap. He pulls back the covers, exposing my sunburned skin, and I snatch them back up.

“Becca, I’ve seen and tasted your body. Now let’s heal you up so I can do it again.” He shoots me a smile, promising dirty deeds.

He squeezes the gel into his large hands, rubbing them together, then placing them gently on both shoulders.

I nearly leap off the bed at first touch, like ice sticking to a piece of cloth, excerpt it’s my skin.

It’s gradual, but he smooths it out gently as he manages to soak my body with the green gel.

He peels me off the sheet, which feels like picking off a three-week-old Band-Aid from my skin. Then he stands me up and paints me with more aloe. Blowing on my neck, he asks, “Does that feel better?”

I nod and let my head fall back on his shoulder. “Yes. But am I supposed to stand up naked all night?”

“I bought you a gown made of bamboo to help.” He retrieves it from the entrance and brings it to me. “I hope you like it.” It has small palm trees scattered over the fabric.

“It’s cute. You didn’t have to do that. Oh lord, what if Corbin saw you buying me lingerie?”

“This is not what I would pick out for lingerie. I would pick something lacy and see through so I could see your nipples peak.” His voice level drops an octave like he’s in the moment inside his head.

Then he rakes over his two-day stubble. “Also, housekeeping is coming by to change the sheets in an hour.”

“Why?”

“I asked. This resort is top-notch.”

I shiver, goosebumps popping up on my arms and chest. “I can’t believe I’m so cold.”

So, he takes off the tags and slips the new gown over my head. The straps are loose, and the gown skims my shape; it doesn’t cling to it.

“Is that better?” he asks, taking the tips of my fingers into his. He accepts the nod I give him. “Good. We’ll let the aloe dry, then I’ll fill up the tub with cool water and ice while the maid is here.”

Attempting to be coy, I say, “I’ll wait for the housekeeper. Maybe it’s a male, and he can help me into the bath.” I hardly contain the laughter bubbling to the surface as I watch his expression change. His eyes widen before they narrow. His jaw drops before it tightens, and he grinds his teeth.

“Nobody is seeing what is mine. Do you understand?”

Slowly, I lift my arms, wincing as my shoulders burn, and I wrap them around his neck. “Yours?” I twerk my brows, which also hurts like hell.

“You burn for me, remember?” he asks with a wink and a lopsided smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll stock up on aloe.”

I want to slap him in jest, but I know it’ll hurt me more than him. Just as I’m about to complain about being cold again, he opens the patio doors, allowing the heat to blanket the villa in warmth. It chases every shiver and goosebump from my skin.

Following him into the kitchenette, because I’m not ready to sit and have this gown stick to the aloe, he opens the small freezer. Ice clatters into the ice bucket, echoing slightly as the cubes hit the sides of the metal container.

Then he takes it into the bathroom, dumping it into the soaking tub. He does this several times until the ice is empty. For someone who doesn’t have brothers and sisters or a mom around, he sure knows how to take care of me.

He runs the water and helps me inside. Most of the ice has melted in the water, but it doesn’t stop the shock of the water temperature against my skin. “No. No. No.”

“You can do it.”

“It’s freezing.”

“The Becca I know doesn’t let anything or anyone stop her.”

I let out an aggravated sigh at him using my own words against me. I don’t know how many times I said that to John when we were on the phone, talking about my divorce. Inching into the tub, he holds my hand for balance until I’m seated in the chilling water.

The doorbell rings, and he says, “Perfect timing.”

He instructs the housekeeper, who turns out to be male, but it’s just muffled voices. About fifteen minutes later, the door clamps closed, and John returns to help me from the tub. He holds out a puffy blanket. “Where did you get that?”

“At the resort shop. I thought it would be good to dry you off instead of those white towels.”

“You think of everything. How am I going to repay you?”

“Don’t worry. I have a list a mile long, and none of it can be done in public.”

Arousal settles in my center, so I reach for his hand and slip it under the makeshift towel. “There’s one thing that isn’t burnt. As long as I can stand up, you can… you know.”

His fingers swipe through my folds before he takes it out and sucks his fingers, humming in appreciation. “No, babe. Sex is supposed to be enjoyed. One wrong move, and you’ll be crying out in pain.”

“You’re probably right.”

“I’m always right.”

Something between a chuckle and a gasp escapes my throat. “I’ll remember that. ”

“Good, now time for more aloe.”

This time, some of the sting is gone, and I feel the sincerity in his hands. We walk around the villa, enjoying the moonlight and the sound of the tropical trees rustling. When the gel feels dry, we sit on the patio, playing gin rummy until we can barely hold our eyes open.

The group decided everyone would do their own thing tonight, and it’s a good thing because I wouldn’t have been able to go with my skin on fire.

“Let’s get to bed.” He holds up the new sheet, and I cautiously move under it.

“Ahh.”

“Feel good?”

“Yeah, like I’m at the Ritz.”

“This place is a hundred times better than the Ritz,” John says as he slides in on the other side, then scoots closer to me without touching me. “Try to stay on your side so your back or chest isn’t touching anything.”

I reach back for his hand, and it’s right where I expect it to be.

“John, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. We just didn’t realize how long we were out there.”

“Not about the sunburn. I’m sorry for pushing you away. Leaving you a voicemail was cowardly.”

“It’s okay,” he says.

“It’s not. My parents and Mamaw didn’t raise me to be a coward.”

He runs his fingers through my hair, touching one of the few places that doesn’t cause pain. He lets out a feathery breath and stays silent for a few minutes. “You weren’t being a coward. You were guarding your heart.”

I push up on my hand and roll over carefully to face him. His eyes skim my hairline, and his fingers trace the outline of my face, before our eyes lock in place. Something powerful swirls inside me that I can’t hold back, and the floodgates open.

“Hey. Things happen the way they’re supposed to. It wasn’t our time, pretty girl.”

Unable to control my tears, they feel just as hot as my skin as they cross the bridge of my nose and fall onto the crisp, cool sheet.

The more I try to suck them back inside, the harder they fall.

John continues to caress my face that was partially covered by my baseball cap, around my forehead and temples.

“Becca, if anyone was a coward, it was me. I should have told you in college that you were the only girl for me. But my pride wouldn’t allow me to do that, knowing you would crush me.

I had so many bad things happening in my life, and I was just getting myself back.

I couldn’t take the chance of making another mistake.

Even though I knew I could never put you in that category.

Stella… big mistake. But not you. Not in college.

Not this summer when we were only talking. And not now.”

“John, we could have been happy for the past twelve years or however long it’s been.”

He leans into me, kissing me softly, cuddling my lips between his. “Maybe. But what I do know is we can be happy now and going forward. No more Dennis or Stella or your stupid motto, ‘I don’t date jocks,’ standing in the way.”