Chapter 17
Charlotte
If you had told me six months ago that I would be standing outside of Just Married Getaways planning an all-inclusive honeymoon for my ex and his whimsical bride to be, I’d think you were crazy. If you told me I’d be planning this honeymoon with the groom’s father, I’d know you were crazy.
Even if he is the world’s most annoying, charming, impossibly devastatingly attractive man I’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing a bed with, I still would never have guessed.
Yet here I am.
Make that, here we are.
Gavin and I pull up to the small storefront at the same time. We stand on the sidewalk, pausing before walking in. I am sure we are thinking the same thing, whether he knows it or not–
This is so awkward.
“This is going to be great,” he says, and my eyes literally roll in his direction.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Absolutely,” he says, crossing his arms over his broad chest. As usual, he looks incredibly good. Dark jeans, black dress boots, a black long-sleeved shirt under a fleece-lined flannel. He’s the poster boy for Denver’s most delicious bachelors–Silver Fox Winter Edition.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Really. You are excited to plan every little dirty detail of your son’s honeymoon?”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because it’s weird,” I say, and he spits out a raspberry laugh.
“Sure, if sex makes you uncomfortable,” he says, and I give him a look.
“Who’s uncomfortable?” I ask. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
“No?” he asks with a smirk.
“No.”
“Alright. So you’ll be okay with suggesting places based on which ones have the best beds, the most secluded rooms, the most intimate experiences?”
“Of course,” I say, still making eye contact just to prove a point. In reality? I am wildly uncomfortable. I mean, here I am with a man who I have been naked with twice while we plan a honeymoon for a man who I have been naked with as well, and neither of them know that.
I’m fine. This is fine.
“Well then, let’s do it,” he says with a grandiose gesture, and I walk inside.
The door closes behind us, and we are engulfed by humidity. The smell of coconut and salt wafts through the air, while the soft sounds of island music play through the overhead speakers. The room is filled with colorful artwork and bamboo furniture.
“What if I wanted to go to the Swiss Alps?” I mumble and Gavin does a slow, full body turn towards me.
“Was that a sarcastic joke?” he asks with a smirk.
“Look at this place. It’s like stepping off a plane in Honolulu.”
“Except it’s smaller,” he says.
“What if you could put Honolulu in a bottle and sell it?”
“Synthetic Honolulu. Not even the real thing,” he says.
“Honolulu- knock-off version,” I say.
“Bargain bin Hawaii,” he says, and I snort. Then I cover my mouth.
“Was that a snort?” he asks, and I can’t stop laughing. I also can’t stop blushing. “You snort when you laugh?”
“Shut up,” I say, twisting my mouth in an attempt to stop laughing, though it’s not really working. “I do not snort.”
“No?” he asks with a grin, taking a step closer to me.
“No!”
“Then what was that?” he asks.
“I don’t know, but it wasn’t a snort,” I lie.
“Oh really? You sure about that?” he asks. Before I can answer, he grabs my side, and I shriek. Then I swat his hand, and he laughs. The next thing I know, we are totally flirting in the middle of the Hawaii-scented travel agency.
“Knock it off,” I say.
“Not until I hear that snort again,” he says, reaching for me again.
This time I grab his hand instead of swatting it. He tries to use his other one, but I grab that one too. We are laughing and fumbling around like teenagers until we hear someone clear their throat, putting an end to our fun time.
“Oh. My. God. You two are the absolute cutest!” A man who reminds me of Stanley Tucci but with more hair clasps his hands together. I realize we are still holding hands, so I pull back, tucking my hair behind my ears.
“What’s up?” Gavin nods, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Well, don’t stop on my account,” the man laughs, and while we are both still smiling, we toss each other a look of confusion.
Then it hits me.
“Well, come on, lovebirds, let’s get this honeymoon planned, shall we? Then you two can get back to what I know you wish you were doing right now. Wink, wink.”
“Oh, no,” I shake my head frantically. “We aren’t…”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he says. “I know how it is in the beginning.”
He waves us into his office, and we follow. I shoot Gavin a look that says please tell this man that we are not a couple. But Gavin seems entertained by it all, and I don’t think he even wants to stop this charade.
“I’m Patrick,” the agent says. “I will be helping you with every single detail of your post wedding getaway. Don’t let the vibe fool you. We do more than just tropical destinations.”
“So we can go to the Swiss Alps, honey…” Gavin says, and my jaw drops.
Is he really going along with this right now?
“Actually, we aren’t planning the honeymoon for ourselves,” I jump in.
“Of course you aren’t!” he blurts out. At first, I think maybe he knows that Gavin and I aren’t the couple. We aren’t a couple at all. “That’s my job. I will be helping the two of you create the most personalized experience to fit who you are as a couple.”
Nevermind.
“That sounds great,” Gavin says, and I can’t believe I am hearing him right. But as my eyes slice over to him, the smirk on his face tells me that he is all in with this game. I am not surprised.
“So, the Swiss Alps,” Patrick goes on. “Is that a real thing or…”
Gavin says yes at the same time as I say no, and I give him a look.
“No,” I say again. Then I remember that we aren’t planning a honeymoon for us and have to reevaluate.
Would Holly and Ben go to the Swiss Alps?
Ben would go anywhere. I pull out my tablet and scroll through to the honeymoon section and realize I literally have no notes.
It’s completely blank. Probably because I had no idea that we would be planning their honeymoon.
Crap.
“I’m thinking Costa Rica,” Gavin says as I frantically text Holly.
“Oh, good choice. Really fantastic,” Patrick says as his fingers click on the keyboard. “Let’s talk resorts, activities, excursions. Are we looking to lounge, shop, eat, or hike? All of the above? None of the above?”
“All of the above,” I say robotically. “Probably zip lining and hang gliding too.”
“Oh, so you’re an adventurous couple!” Patrick exclaims. “I love it!”
Your wallet loves it.
“Is that what Holly said?” Gavin asks.
“Oh, she hasn’t texted me back,” I answer. “But Ben likes all of those things,” I say. Then I stop.
“He does,” Gavin says, studying me.
Patrick lets out a feminine chuckle. “Talking about yourselves in third person. I love it.”
I roll my eyes. This loon really thinks we are Holly and Ben. I wonder if he’s partaken in any island libations today.
“Listen,” Gavin says. “Just fill the week. Puerto Viejo de Talamanca to Isla Tortuga. All the best. Shops, restaurants, and activities. The more adventurous, the better.”
“I love it, I love it!” Patrick says. “I’m going to need a ballpark on the budget, as much as I hate to say it.”
“None,” Gavin says, and the clicking stops as Patrick looks up at us.
“I’m sorry, I must have heard you wrong. For a moment there, it sounded like you said the honeymoon has no budget.”
“No, your ears are working perfectly,” Gavin grins, grabs a couple of almonds out of a bowl on the desk and pops them in his mouth.
“None at all?” Patrick asks.
“Nope.”
“Well! This is indeed my priority vacation on the docket. I’ll throw together an itinerary and have it to you in three days.
Actually, make that two days! Oh! And before I forget, every couple who books with me gets entered into a contest to win a two-night stay at a lovely mountain Air B&B.
So I’ll make sure to put your names in the hat. ”
“Perfect,” Gavin says, pushing himself up from his chair. Then he holds out a hand to me. “Honey? I’m famished. Let’s go have lunch.”
I gather my things and stand up too, without taking his hand.