Chapter Thirty-One Jordan
Chapter Thirty-One
Jordan
As the jet landed, I watched Maya’s face while she gazed out the window.
The sun was peaking, casting through the small round plexiglass cutout as we crossed over a giant, beautiful body of water on our approach to the runway surrounded by palm trees on both sides, their leaves swaying in the island breeze.
It was a difficult sight to look away from.
But I had no problem.
Because what was in front of me was far more gorgeous than anything outside that window.
As the rays shone across her features, there was a heavy widening of her lips and a drawn-out flutter of her eyelashes, her hand flat against the clear opening like she was trying to not only feel the weather but touch it too. The diamond on her neck sparkled.
This was the look of happiness.
And this was what love felt like.
“Somewhere tropical, on the ocean, where the sun is going to hug us for the next week.” She glanced at me. “You picked the perfect getaway.”
“Any idea where we are?”
“I have a few guesses.”
“Care to share?”
She ran her teeth over her lip. “I’m strangely enjoying these surprises and how each one is unfolding. I don’t want you to confirm the last one yet.”
I pointed at the galley wall. “That monitor normally shows the progress of the flight, the starting and ending destinations. I had our flight attendant black out the screen. The problem is, we’re going to have to go through customs inside the airport, so it’ll only be a secret for a few more minutes. ”
“Then I’ll take those few more minutes.” She wrapped her arms around the middle of my body and rested her head on my chest. “This has already been the best vacation I’ve ever been on.
” She looked up at me. “And I realize we haven’t even gotten off the plane, so that should show you how much traveling I’ve done. ”
I moved several pieces of hair off her face. “I love that about you. And I love that I’ll be the one who gets to show you the world.”
I kissed her until the plane stopped, then waited for my crew to lower the stairs onto the tarmac before I brought her into the airport and joined the short line at customs.
She used her hand like a visor, holding it over her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m trying not to read any of the signs.”
I chuckled. “I think you know we’re in the Bahamas.”
“But I don’t know which part of the Bahamas.”
I held the back of her neck, my finger sliding into her hair. “You really don’t?”
Her hand dropped, and she tried to block her smile with her tongue. “I mean, you own a home here. One can only assume we’re on Windermere Island?”
“Close.”
“We’re not headed to your house?”
“We are. We’re just not on Windermere Island yet.”
We moved up to the window, and I handed over our passports. The customs agent stamped the inside, and we left the airport and got into the vehicle that was parked out front.
Nestled in the back seat, I pressed my lips to her shoulder. “I love the way the sun smells on you.” I then kissed her collarbone. The middle of her neck. The side of her head, parting her hair away from her ear so I could kiss its shell.
“The sun resonates with my skin because I’m a summer girl. I don’t love the cold. And I don’t love the snow.”
“It’s funny—for most of my life, I’ve always craved the fall and winter. That’s hockey season. The summer did nothing for me. I wanted to be playing, not practicing.”
“Do you still feel the same way?”
I stretched my arm across the back of the seat and moved closer, eliminating any space between us. “Nah. My body wants the heat.”
“I think we’re about to get some of that this week.”
With my mouth on her neck, I worked my gaze way down her chest, to where her tits were held in place by the thin fabric of her long, loose-fitting dress. “You’re going to be sweating almost every moment we’re here.”
“I am—” Her voice cut off when she looked at me. “Oh. That kind of sweating.” She smiled. “Okaaay, I like it.”
“You certainly will.”
The SUV stopped at a marina, and the driver opened our back seat door. After I climbed out, I gave Maya my hand, and I walked her past the gas pumps and toward the slips on the far side of the docks.
“This is getting more interesting by the second,” she said.
When we reached my wet slip, I stopped and turned her toward me. “Windermere Island is accessible by land or water. When I’m in the Bahamas, this just happens to be my favorite form of transportation.”
She looked at my seventy-five-foot yacht that was tied up next to us. “Oh boy. That beast is your boat, isn’t it?”
I laughed. “It sure is.”
“And that’s how we’re getting to your house . . . am I right?”
“I hope you have your sea legs, baby.”
She slowly looked at me. “I guess we’re about to find out if I do.”
I stepped onto the back of the yacht and helped her on board, leading her toward the driver’s seat, the oversize cushion wide enough to fit us both. I turned on the batteries and engines and loaded the navigation.
“Jesus,” she groaned. “Is that a downstairs?” She pointed at the entrance to the cabins.
“There’s three bedrooms down there. Three bathrooms. A kitchen and a lounge area.”
She sucked in her lips, holding them like that until she said, “You own a private plane and a boat the size of my wing at the rehab center. Eventually, I’ll wrap my head around all of this, but right now my mind is blown.”
“I get it.” I kissed her forehead. “But it just seems like a lot because you’re seeing so much of it at once. If you view it as a whole picture, it’s less overwhelming.”
“It’s cute that you see it that way.” She laughed. “But from an outsider who’s now very much on the inside, I can’t even begin to process what you have.” She playfully slapped my arm. “You have to admit, this is all bananas.”
I nodded. “It is, for sure. And somehow, someway, you’re going to grow to love it.”
“I love you, Jordan. You come with all this, which means I love it too. But even if you only had the clothes you’re wearing and not a single dollar in your bank account, that wouldn’t change how I feel about you. I want you to know that.” She touched my chest. “I’m here for you. No other reason.”
I took her hand off my heart and held it to my mouth, and then I kissed her smile and each spot it reached on her cheeks. “God, you make me so fucking happy.”
“Same. Times a million.”
I made sure all the controls were in order, that there was plenty of gas, that the joystick and bow thruster were on before I said, “You’re going to spend a lot of time on this boat while we’re here, so I want you to feel comfortable on it.
We’ll take it to see some of the different islands in the Bahamas. Maybe we’ll even stay a night on it.”
“Do you always leave your boat here, or do you ever bring it north?”
“It stays here mostly, but one of my favorite trips is going across the Atlantic and docking in Key West for a night and then cruising to either the Gulf Coast or the east coast of Florida. We’ll do that at some point too—if you can get the time off from work.” I paused. “I’m hoping you can.”
“I’m working on it.”
I rested my forehead against hers. “I’m not trying to put pressure on you. I just want you with me wherever I go—and that can be multiple places in a month or even a week.”
Her arm slipped around my lower back. “I want that, too, and I think, with Emily’s help, I’ve figured out a way to make that happen.”
“Just the news I wanted to hear.”
Several dockhands who I’d been waiting for surrounded the boat and gave me a signal through the windshield. My thumbs-up let them know I was ready to be untied, and once the lines were off and we were clear to move, I carefully worked my way into the open water.
“I barely feel the waves,” Maya said after several minutes into the trip.
“That’s because of the design of the ship. It’s built for the stability to handle deep waters. My brother and I like to take it a hundred miles or so offshore and go fishing.”
“I’ve seen that on TV. I think I would die from seasickness.”
“You might on some boats—not on this one. At least, on a good day of weather, that’s true.
But there have been times when we’ve been out that far, and the chop gets pretty extreme.
The waves can climb to six, seven, even eight-foot seas, and that’s when I’m popping Dramamine.
” I hugged her against me. “But don’t worry.
Before we island hop or boat to Florida, I’ll study the weather.
We won’t go out until I know you can handle it. You’re safe with me.”
She gazed into my eyes. “I never questioned that.”
I walked out of my bedroom, running my hand over my wet hair, smelling the island’s unique scent in the air, and as I passed through the kitchen and halfway to the living room, I saw her.
She was standing in front of the openness—the wall of glass that tucked into pockets on both sides of the house—that showcased the view.
She was looking at the wide patio that extended off my home and the infinity pool and spa, an area that was framed by tropical greenery.
Beyond, not more than twenty yards, was the beach.
A strip of sand where the ocean lapped and the long deck where the boat sat at the end.
But while she was taking in the scenery, I was staring at her.
Sheer white curtains hung in sections from the ceiling, and one flirted with her, the wind wrapping the material around Maya’s bare legs, her wet hair blowing just as hard as the fabric.
My assistant had been instructed to purchase a month’s worth of clothes for Maya, along with cosmetics and makeup—whatever Carrie thought Maya would use or need—and had everything shipped here.
My housekeeper had unboxed those items and set them up in the closet and en suite.
While I took a call, Maya showered, and when I was finally able to get into the shower, Maya was already out here.
Out of all the clothes she could have put on, she chose spandex shorts and a sports bra.