Chapter 25 – Juliana
T he watercraft pulls up to the small dock, the engine puttering to a stop.
I think my breath must have stopped, too.
The palm trees sway past the turquoise lagoon where our private overwater bungalow awaits.
Warm breezes carry the scent of exotic blooms our way, competing with the fresh sea air.
I tip my face up to worship the sun and blue sky as Liam speaks to the pilot and his mate about our luggage.
My flowing orange sundress whips around my calves and the wind teases my messy bun.
I glance at Liam. He looks perfectly at ease and unbelievably handsome with his sunglasses shoved up into his thick hair, leaving his gorgeous eyes visible so that they sparkle like the ocean surrounding us.
Dressed in shorts, deck shoes and a white linen shirt rolled up to his elbows, his tanned and toned forearms flex as he points toward something on land.
The graying pilot with his sun-weathered face laughs and nods at whatever Liam says and I want to laugh, too.
This was his surprise for me, a babymoon getaway to Bora Bora in the French Polynesian, a bucket-list vacation destination I wasn’t sure I’d ever see.
I’ve decided maybe I do like surprises after all.
There’s a luxury resort up the beach that this retreat belongs to, but I feel like I’ve stepped into my own private daydream.
It makes me consider what other daydreams might come true.
“Maybe you’ll let me help you out the next time you want to come instead.”
Yes, please .
Sure, it was a bit embarrassing, him seeing my vibrator lying out last week after his movie-night massage had me drifting off.
I’d wanted a little self-care when I got home that afternoon with my horny hormones piping up more often lately.
Perhaps, there was part of me that wanted him to see it and see that I’m getting closer to moving beyond movie-night makeout sessions.
It’s not just about the sex which, obviously, we’ve done, though once is not nearly enough. It’s about being ready for more with Liam. He deserves that, doesn’t he? He’s given me so much.
Grinning to myself, I gaze at the dark-brown, wooden-plank walkway which leads to our little piece of paradise. In the distance, I can just make out a family from the resort flying a couple of brightly-colored kites. It adds something childlike and joyful to the incredibly picturesque scene.
I take a panoramic shot of the lagoon with its unfathomably varied shades of blue and Mount Otemanu in the background and send it off to Wendy and Nell with a text – I may never leave .
“…very popular with honeymooners,” I hear the pilot saying as I’m putting my phone away.
Honeymooners? No, that’s not us and the term dings my giddiness momentarily.
“We’re on our babymoon,” Liam corrects with a proud grin before he mimics holding an infant until the pilot and his mate catch his meaning and chuckle, congratulating us.
“How many years since the volcano last erupted?” I ask the pilot, gesturing toward the mountain.
“Three thousand years, Mrs. Culver.”
Mrs. Culver? I’m not anyone’s missus anymore. I was Mrs. Beaumont for ten years and look how that ended. But, Liam’s wife? God, I’m not ready to think about that today. Maybe never.
Yet, I notice Liam doesn’t correct the pilot and I let it lie. “Are you ready?” he murmurs, interrupting the hectic flow of my thoughts when he takes me by the hand to help me off the boat.
I soak in our surroundings again. Six nights of this? “I’m more than ready.”
∞∞∞
I was tired after we unpacked and Liam led me up the beach for a delicious meal at the resort’s beachside tavern.
Anyone would be exhausted by the lengthy flight and journey to get here, right?
Anyone other than Liam, I suppose, who chatted about midnight swims and hiking trails he’d read about with uncontainable enthusiasm.
By the time we made it back to the bungalow, I was swaying where I stood, barely able to appreciate the millions of stars shining over the water. Liam’s quiet murmurs and careful touches helped get me nestled between the satiny sheets with the ocean’s lullaby sending me off to dreamland.
When I wake, the continuous soft melody of the sea is still playing, and I’m alone in the king-sized bed.
His side hasn’t been touched. There’s only one bed, and he didn’t share it with me.
I scowl, hearing a stranger’s voice in the bungalow as I rise.
“Didn’t the bed suit you, sir?” a lilting, feminine voice asks.
“Just call me Liam and, yes, it’s fine,” he replies, his voice sinfully husky this early.
“Is there anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable, Mr. Liam?”
“No, thank you.”
Stepping into the main living area, I see a willowy girl with gorgeous brown skin heading down the walkway toward the beach. She glances back over her shoulder before stepping onto the sand, to see if he’s watching her walk away perhaps. He isn’t. He’s busy at the kitchen counter.
“Who was that?” I snap, sounding irritable… and jealous.
“Well, good morning, sunshine. Did you sleep well?” he asks, kissing my cheek.
My bad humor starts to dissolve. “That was a resort employee delivering some supplies as well as breakfast. I don’t want us to have to leave for every meal, nor will we starve now.
Mango, papaya and passion fruit, fresh-squeezed,” he adds, passing me a glass of juice.
Peeking around his arm, I see he’s plating more fruit and a croissant for me. My heart swells, all my romantic sensibilities titillated and my insecurities silenced.
Then, I glance at the sofa with its rumpled cushions and pillow.
Not as romantic. Is that why she asked him about the bed?
She probably assumes he got kicked out of our bed on the first night of our vacation and, having met my very charming companion, probably thinks the worst of whoever he’s here with.
It doesn't matter what she thinks. What matters is what I want to do with this time we have together, and I don’t want him sleeping on the sofa. I just have to tell him as much. I sip my juice, contemplating the difference between slow and glacial, and know I am ready to speed things up.