Chapter Two
Ryan
I stand on the patio dais, alone yet surrounded by people, taking a deep breath as I watch the new arrivals strip down. Their whoops and laughter echo across the patio, a cacophony of uninhibited joy. My jaw clenches. Stay professional, Kimble. You've faced tougher challenges. But have I? Even my SEAL training didn't prepare me for managing a nudist resort. I can almost hear Tucker's gravelly voice and his laughter when I informed him of my new job. He thought it was funny, but he wasn't being a douche. He's genuinely happy for me.
Tuck knows about my...issues. And he helped me figure out how to cope.
A peal of feminine laughter draws my attention. A lithe brunette tosses her sundress aside, stretching languorously while she tips her head back and grins. My gaze snaps back to the resort entrance. Focus on the job, not the guests. I smooth my crisp white uniform, the starched collar a stark contrast to the carefree atmosphere. My fingers brush the name tag—"Ryan Kimble, Interim General Manager." The cool metal grounds me just enough to keep me from acting like a human statue.
You've got this, Kimble. Second chances don't come easy, so fight for it, man.
As I turn away, a flash of caramel-brown hair catches my eye, and I get a glimpse of amber eyes. What is that woman's name? I'd been watching her out of the corner of my eye during my entire welcome speech. Though she's now facing away, I'd recognize that luscious hair and those transfixing eyes anywhere. My heart thuds traitorously, and my cock jerks too. My own body is trying to encourage me to break my rules for this job. No romance. No sex either.
My phone chirps, mercifully distracting me. It's Tucker: How's paradise treating you? Still got your clothes on?
I chuckle despite myself. Leave it to Tucker to cut through the tension. I type back: All good here. Professionalism is my middle name.
His reply is almost instantaneous: Bullshit. It's Theodore and we both know it. Proud of you, man. You've come a long way, and you've got this.
Suddenly, I'm standing up straighter and lifting my chin. Maybe I do have this, just like I told myself a moment ago. Maybe Heirani Motu is exactly where I need to be. I type: Thanks, Tuck, no need to worry about me.
He sends me a thumbs-up emoji, then signs off. I square my shoulders and stride toward my office. Time to get to work.
I pivot smoothly, as the first guests enter the lobby, my practiced smile sliding into place. I extend my hand to a sun-bronzed couple. "Welcome to Heirani Motu. I'm Ryan, your interim general manager. How may I assist you today?"
The woman beams, her enthusiasm infectious. "Oh, this place is just gorgeous! We're looking for some information on activities."
I nod, gesturing toward a nearby rack. "Of course. You'll find our full range of pamphlets right over there. Emilio, our assistant manager, can help you. We also have two activity coordinators who can provide more details."
Emilio appears at my side as if he'd been hiding behind me, though I doubt that. His curly hair is hair tousled by the island breeze, and he grins at the couple. "Did someone say activities? I've got you covered, mates."
"Ooh, what a lovely accent," the woman says. "Is that Australian?"
"New Zealand. I'm a proud Kiwi."
While Emilio leads the couple away, I catch Marley's eye across the lobby. She gives me a subtle thumbs-up, mouthing '"you're doing great!" I manage a small smile in return, grateful for her support.
A booming voice cuts through the chatter. "My god, would you look at this view?"
I turn to find a barrel-chested man with a salt-and-pepper beard, his eyes wide with wonder as he gazes out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the entrance to the lobby.
"It's certainly breathtaking, sir," I agree, stepping closer. "Heirani Motu is home to some of the most diverse wildlife in the South Pacific. Our nature trails offer—"
"Nature trails?" He claps a hand on my shoulder. "Tell me more, son. Can't wait to explore this wicked paradise."
I slip into my well-rehearsed spiel, grateful for the distraction. "We have several guided hikes that showcase our local flora and fauna. The waterfall trail is particularly popular, featuring a rope bridge and a natural swimming hole. For the more adventurous, we offer zip-lining tours through the canopy."
His eyes light up. "Zip-lining? Now that's what I'm talking about!"
I find myself warming up to the topic too, though I doubt I'll have time for recreation of any sort. "We also offer day trips to the nearby Fiji Islands, and even shopping excursions to New Zealand for those looking to mix a bit of urban exploration with their tropical getaway. You have to wear clothes off the island, of course."
As if he wouldn't have figured that out on his own. Duh, Kimble.
While I speak, I can't help but marvel at how easily the words flow now. A few weeks ago, I was floundering, unsure if I could handle this role. Now, it almost feels...natural.
Almost.
Because even as I maintain my professional demeanor, a part of me remains hyper-aware of every bare shoulder, every flash of skin in my peripheral vision. This job is unlike anything I've ever done before, and the constant balancing act is...challenging, to say the least. But I'm determined to make it work. For my career, for my future, and maybe, just maybe, for a chance at finding a real home here at a nudist resort. Normal life hadn't turned out so well for me. Might as well try something vastly different.
My mind drifts back to earlier, when the guests first began to disrobe. I'd steeled myself for this moment, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She smiles at me as if she knows me, her smile radiant, The caramel-brown waves of her hair catching the sunlight as she sheds her dress. I force my gaze upward, meeting her amber eyes. They're sparkling with mischief, and I swear she just winked at me.
"Keep it together, Kimble," I mutter under my breath, gripping my clipboard tighter. The familiar weight grounds me, a shield against the sudden rush of heat coursing through my body. I scan the crowd, focusing on faces, not bodies. Remember, professionalism first , I remind myself. But it's a losing battle. My eyes keep drifting back to that gorgeous woman—her confident stance, her easy smile. Even the wrinkles around her eyes are enchanting.
"All right, everyone," I call out, my voice remarkably calm. "If you'll gather round, we'll get started with our welcome orientation."
After a brief pause to make sure everyone is listening, I step onto the temporary dais with my clipboard in hand. The wood creaks beneath my feet, but I doubt it will collapse. But yeah, I suffered a brief moment of concern about that. My voice sounds authoritative as I speak, and I suddenly realize that's not an act. "Welcome to Heirani Motu. We're thrilled to have you here at Au Naturel Naturist Resort South Seas. Before we dive in, I'd like to emphasize our core values: respect and consent."
A murmur of approval ripples through the crowd. I continue, outlining our amenities and activities, careful to keep my gaze at the eye level of every guest. But whenever my focus passes over a certain guest, my heart rate spikes. No woman has ever affected me this way before.
"While this is a clothes-free resort," I explain, "we recommend wearing sandals or sneakers outdoors, and you may want to place a napkin or handkerchief under your bottom when you sit down. That includes the dining hall especially."
The guests haven't made any lewd jokes. What a relief.
I glance at my clipboard briefly, then face the crowd again. "Remember, photography is strictly prohibited without explicit consent from all parties involved. Please place a red sticker over your phone's camera when you aren't photographing. If your phone has multiple cameras, slap those dots on all of them."
As I speak, I can't help but admire the guests' confidence. Their unabashed attitudes, their comfort in their own skin...it's admirable. And it's a stark contrast to my own rigid posture in my resort uniform. I could never go naked in public , I think, even as a small part of me wonders what it might feel like to be so free.
A voice pipes up from the crowd, breaking through my reverie. "Hey, does this mean we can finally tell people we're going to a nude beach without lying just so we'll seem totally based?"
The quip catches me off guard, and a ripple of laughter spreads through the group. I feel the corners of my mouth tug upward, my stoic facade cracking just a bit. It's been a while since I've allowed myself a genuine smile. The young man who spoke is still grinning.
A slight chuckle tumbles from my lips. "Well, I suppose that's one perk of our clothes-free policy."
More chuckles follow, and for a moment, I'm transported back to family gatherings, to easier times filled with warmth and laughter. But the memory twists, turning bittersweet as I find my thoughts reeling backward in time to a far less pleasurable moment.
I clear my throat, pushing the darkness aside. "Now, let's talk about our nature trails. We have several routes of varying difficulty..."
As I continue the orientation, my eyes scan the diverse group before me. It includes a kaleidoscope of body types, ages, and backgrounds—all united in their embrace of a unique experience. It's oddly beautiful, this celebration of the human form in all its variations.
"Our main waterfall trail is a particular favorite," I point out, my voice rock steady. "It offers breathtaking views and a chance to connect with the island's natural beauty."
I catch a glimpse of that woman again, her eyes sparkling and her lips curled up at the corners. For a moment, I allow myself to wonder what it would be like to hike that trail with her, to share in the wonder of Heirani Motu's hidden treasures and share an erotic moment with her beneath a shimmering waterfall. Her water-slicked body would shimmer, as droplets dapple her skin.
But then shame washes over me, hot and familiar. I'm not the man I once was—trusting, open. Tragedy left its mark, deeper than any physical scar.
"Remember," I add, pushing the memories aside, "safety is our top priority. Always stay on marked paths and respect wildlife habitats."
As I wrap up the orientation, I realize something has shifted. The anxiety has faded away. Here, surrounded by people embracing new sides of themselves without shame, the idea of holding onto that fear seems...trivial. So, I step down from the dais, my clipboard no longer a shield but simply a tool.
"Any questions?" I ask, surprised to find I'm genuinely curious about what these people might want to know.
While I mingle with the guests, their enthusiasm begins to infect me too. I can't help but feel a spark of pride for Heirani Motu, this slice of paradise I've been entrusted to manage.
"Where's the best spot for stargazing?" a silver-haired woman asks.
"The secluded cove on the north side of the island," I reply, gesturing toward the lush tree line. "It's a bit of a hike, but the view is unparalleled. You'll feel like you can touch the Milky Way."
I find myself relaxing into the role, answering questions about hidden waterfalls and the best times for wildlife spotting. It's almost...fun. The thought of James and Holly's suggestion about a long-term future with Au Naturel flits through my mind. Maybe this is more than just a temporary escape.
A tap on my shoulder pulls me back to the present. I'm in the lobby now, the orientation simply a vivid memory.
"Ryan?" It's Marley, her freckled face wrinkled with a mix of apology and urgency. "Sorry to interrupt, but I've got a question about today's schedule."
I turn to face her, pushing thoughts of the past aside. "No problem, Marley. What's on your mind?"
She explains a conflict between two activities, her hands gesturing animatedly. I listen, considering the options.
"Let's move the nature walk to three pm," I decide. "That'll give the zip-lining group time to finish and join in if they want. Good catch, Marley."
Her face lights up. "Thanks, boss. You're doing such a great job with all of this, Ryan. Seriously, the resort's never run smoother."
Her praise makes me want to clear my throat and avoid her gaze, though I tamp down that instinct. "I appreciate that. But it's a team effort. Your attention to detail makes my job a lot easier."
She beams, and I'm reminded of how often I've commended her during staff meetings. It's not just empty praise. Her work ethic is impressive. I've only known Marley for two weeks, yet she's already become a trusted ally. While she heads off to adjust the schedule, I allow myself a small moment of satisfaction. Maybe I'm not just running from my past here. Maybe I'm building something new.
I slip away from the lobby, seeking a rare moment of solitude. The worn path through the woods leads me to a small clearing, a hidden oasis with two chaises. I stretch out on one, and the woven material softly creaks beneath my weight. While the chirping of tropical birds and the distant rush of breakers on the shore fill my ears, I perform one final self-appointed task.
"Breathe," I mutter to myself, closing my eyes. But I can't shake the image of that beautiful woman's radiant, unguarded smile. It stirs something in me I thought was long dead.
I jerk upright on my chaise. "No, you moron, you are not going there."
Not today, at least. Maybe once I've settled in a bit more...
But no, I shouldn't go there at all.
With more effort than the task normally requires, I force my mind to show me the day's events, cataloging challenges and successes in a personal inventory of my day so far. The orientation went smoothly, despite my, ah, distractions. I make a mental note to commend Emilio on his quick thinking with a lost luggage situation and Marley's good work too. Rene Walker made the guests feel at home the second they stepped off the Cessna jet.
This job, it's...good. I'm good at it. Damn good, actually. Hell, I rock my job.
A realization hits me. I've been so focused on maintaining distance that I haven't made sure my staff receives the praise and time off they need. We all need moments like this, I decide, and already I'm planning how to encourage little breaks now and then. Might even do a staff retreat of some sort.
But not today.
The peace of the clearing has done its work. I stand, stretching my whole body, and groan deeply as I make my way toward the beach, approaching the water's edge. Waves crash rhythmically, the vast expanse of blue stretching to the horizon. I tip my head back, eyes closed, letting the sound wash over me.
"Yeah, you can do this," I whisper. "One day at a time."
With a deep breath, I open my eyes. The calm of the ocean has settled something within me, but I know the underlying turmoil remains. There's still so much unresolved, so much pain I've buried.
I turn, striding back toward the main building with renewed purpose. My office beckons, offering a sanctuary of spreadsheets and schedules. Keep your distance , I remind myself firmly as that mystery woman's beautiful eyes flash through my mind unbidden. Focus on the job. Nothing else matters. But I have to know her name or else I'll go mad. A tiny indiscretion won't hurt anything. So, I sort through the passport photos for each guest. And there she is—Meredith Hayes, age fifty-two. Is she married? I didn't see any wedding ring.
Even as I settle in behind my desk, a treacherous part of me whispers that maybe, just maybe, something else does matter after all.