9. Fox
FOX
S andy was deeply upset on Ashley’s behalf and wanted to see her. She and Eddie had eaten breakfast at the Barnes’ villa this morning so they knew where they were going.
I probably owed Ashley’s family an apology, but doubted Ashley wanted to see me. Also, despite passing out on the plane and napping in the car, I was gassing out. I went as far as the lobby with the Holloways then veered toward the concierge desk to retrieve my luggage, planning to check in and get a shower, then catch a nap in a real bed.
“Hi. The valet said he’d leave my luggage with you. It came out of a red Audi. Shane Holloway?” I remembered it had his name on it.
“Right. Barnes-Holloway. You were already checked in so we put it in your room. Do you need a key?” The concierge offered me a card in its little folder with the room number and the wifi password.
“Yeah, but—” Shit. I was too tired to say, I was drunk. Mistakes were made . I offered a half-hearted, “Thanks, mate.”
I would fetch my useless luggage before Ashley got in there and read the tag and thought Shane had shown up after all. Then I would drag my sorry ass back down here to check into my own room.
I had booked a standard room for myself. One where I had expected to listen to parents yelling at their kids in the pool, maybe have someone next to me play their TV too loud and complain it was too hot to go to the beach.
Ashley had booked her and Shane on the Vista level. I stepped out of the elevator and walked through the Vista Club lounge on the way to the room. A young woman in a housekeeping uniform looked up from replacing a carafe of complimentary coffee and greeted me with a warm, “Aloha.”
“G’day.” The view through the floor to ceiling windows was nothing but ocean and sky. Whitecaps speckled the water and a few wispy clouds floated near the horizon. Directly below, frondy palms danced above a rocky point where the surf smashed itself into sparkling drops.
This level was way too nice for my tight fists, but Shane loved his creature-comforts. Oh, right. I turned back to the woman.
“There was a problem with my luggage. I’m going to need a toothbrush and a razor. Is there a disposable one the hotel offers or do I have to go to the gift shop?”
“I can help you.” She disappeared into a housekeeping closet and came out with a selection of toiletries. “Anything else?”
Thank you, Vista level.
“This will do for now, thanks.” I needed underwear, but I’d check the gift shop for that. At least Shane and I were roughly the same size. I could wear the rest of his clothes until I bought my own.
I carried on to the room, tapped the lock with my card, and entered.
I honestly hadn’t believed there was more shit that could hit any more fans, but I was wrong.
The ocean view suite was big enough for a king bed, a full lounge, a small dining table and a wall of windows onto a lanai that ran the length of the oversized room. There was a full outdoor lounge and a small breakfast table out there.
Ashley sat up on the bed. Tears were running down her flushed, persecuted expression. Her surprised kick knocked over one of the towels sculpted into a swan that sat in the middle of the bed. There were two of them. They encircled by rose petals that had been shaped like a heart that—yep—was now broken.
The door fell closed behind me with an overly loud clunk .
I took in the rest of the purgatory I had underwritten. A bottle of champagne sat in a sweaty bucket in a stand beside the sofa. On the end table stood a pair of champagne flutes. One glass wore a bow tie, the other had a small bouquet tied to its stem.
Over on the desk, a cellophane wrapped basket held water bottles, more wine, chocolates and protein snacks to fuel active honeymooners. A heart-shaped, cellophane balloon floated above it, imprinted with a scrolling, I Do!
The honeymoon package add-on had sounded like a great wedding gift two weeks ago, when I hadn’t had a clue what else to get them.
“This room is on your card, isn’t it?” Ashley said. “They told me it was prepaid when I checked in, but I didn’t think about that at all. I just got my key, walked in, and fell apart.”
“It’s fine,” I assured her, eyeing her warily. “I accidentally grabbed Shane’s luggage. They brought it up here. I was afraid you’d see it and think he was here.” I set the toiletries on the dresser beside the printed note that read, We want your stay to be memorable!
Job done.
“I’ll grab it and go sort it.” I glanced for the bag, but wound up looking at Ash. I got tangled up in the shattered misery of her doe-eyes. The ceiling pressed down on me. I wanted so badly to be fix this for her.
“Um.” I cleared my throat. “Closet?” I paused on my way there to look through the door-less archway into the bathroom. It was cavernous with a double-sink vanity and a bathtub separate from the shower. There were shutters in the wall over the tub. They were open, framing Ashley on the bed.
“So you can watch your wife have a bath?” she guessed with a dubious wrinkle of her brow.
“I think it’s so you can enjoy the view from the tub.” I bit back my grin as I nodded at the windows beyond her, not wanting to laugh at where her mind had gone. Especially because I was titillated by the idea of watching a woman in a tub, soapy bubbles slithering down narrow shoulders to the tops of small breasts that?—
Nope. Not the time or place, sport. Definitely not the woman .
I turned my back on the tub and glanced into a shower big enough for a family of five plus a shaggy dog. There was a bench along the back with a retractable clothes line above it. Three different showerheads offered the full carwash experience.
Lots of room for?—
Where the hell was this coming from? I was definitely in recovery mode if I was thinking about sex, but no.
“Okay, this is weird.” The shower was enclosed by an oversized barn door of frosted glass on rollers. It either closed off the shower or the adjacent toilet stall, but not both. “Nothing says honeymoon like watching your partner take a dump. Am I right?”
I leaned to glance at her through the opening over the tub.
“Finally, a silver lining to having my wedding called off.” She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them.
I came out of the bathroom. “Sandy went looking for you at your mom’s villa. She feels terrible.”
“It’s not her fault.”
“No.” They hadn’t blamed me, either. I wished they had. I wanted to be punished.
“They’re so nice. I wanted to be part of their family from the first time I met them.”
“Same,” I said, meaning it. I loved my foster parents, but their marriage had fallen apart years ago, leaving it in two pieces on either side of the Pacific. Shane’s family was broken, too, but there was a lot of glue in the form of love. In the way Sandy poured it over everyone, especially Shane’s friends.
I moved to the night table and plucked a tissue out of the box, handed it to her.
Ashley eyed me as though considering my comment, then blew her nose. She discarded it off the bed where a handful were already balled up on the carpet. She took a fresh one and used it to dry her eyes and cheeks and down along her jaw into her throat.
“How did your mom take it?” I asked.
She flinched. Shrugged and muttered, “She told me so.”
“What does that mean?”
“That she knew it wouldn’t work out. You weren’t the only one who didn’t believe he loved me.”
“Ash.” I sat on the edge of the bed so my hip was near her bare feet. I had an urge to bracelet her ankle with my hand. It was mostly coming from a place of wanting to offer comfort, but rubbing a woman’s leg, even if it was her shinbone, and even if you were friends, might come across as a pass. Especially when she was in such a bad place.
Her skin always looked incredible, though. Soft and smooth and tanned. My palm itched. I shifted so that I was sitting more with my back to her. I hung my hands between my knees and rubbed my palms together to erase the prickling sensation in them.
“I haven’t even told the hotel yet. I just wanted to be alone. Then I came up here and got hit in the face with this...surprise pity party.” She threw the handful of rose petals into the air. “I don’t know what to do, Fox.” She hugged her knees again and set her cheek atop them. “I have a flight booked to Australia in five days. Do I get on it? Go back to Canada? What?”
“It’s a lot,” I agreed. “Do you want me to talk to the hotel for you? They probably have a protocol for this.” I wondered how often weddings were called off. I suspected most people went through with it once they got this far, even if they knew it was a terrible idea. My foster parents had, mostly because they’d been saddled with me.
“Are you going to change your flight and go back right away?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I was going to get some sleep before I made any decisions.” The far side of the bed called to me, drunken swans, crushed rose petals, and all.
“I guess I’ll pack and go to the villa. Whitney wants to stay.” Ashley sighed. “Mom’s never had a proper vacation and she already paid for the groceries. She won’t let them go to waste. She won’t let me hear the end of what a bust this has been, though. What are Eddie and Sandy going to do?”
“I didn’t ask, but they’re traveling by cruise ship. I expect they’ll stay as planned.”
Her sigh was heavy and deeply sad.
“Listen. Stay here.” I wound up with my hand on top of her foot as the words impulsively left my mouth. “I’ll square it up with Shane when I get back. It’s the least we can do.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t. Well, it’s guilty conscience, for sure.” I rubbed the top of her foot.
Her gaze flickered to where I was touching her and a tiny frown of consternation appeared between her brows. I brought my hand back to my own thigh.
“You need time to figure out your next steps. As your friend—and I swear to you I am your friend—I want to give you the space to work out what to do.”
Our gazes hit and clung. I could see the conflict in her. She used to trust me. Now I saw doubt. It didn’t matter that I deserved it. It still hurt. Maybe it hurt worse because I deserved it.
My hand twitched, wanting to reach out again. Wanting to restore her faith in me.
The ring of the phone on the night table startled us both.
Ashley gave it a grim look of dread. “Who do you think that is?”
I leaned forward and answered it, cutting off the second ring. “’Lo?”
“Aloha. This is Kalani in the spa.” Her voice was gently inflected with a Hawaiian accent. “Everything is ready for your couple’s massage. Are you on your way?”
Ashley overheard. Her eyes widened in horror.
I bit back a curse. Honeymoon package. Such a great idea.
“It was supposed to be a surprise,” I said, speaking to both of them. “I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
“You’ve already paid for it,” Kalani pointed out.
Paying for something I didn’t use went against everything I believed in.
“Just a sec.” I muffled the phone against my stomach. “I booked this package as your wedding gift.” I waved at the decorations and baskets. “It comes with a couple’s massage.”
It was the sort of pampering Shane would never think to arrange for a woman, but I had thought it would be a nice touch for Ashley. She was as much a penny-pincher as I was and rarely did anything to treat herself.
“Why do you hate me?” She shook her head with astonished disbelief.
I opened my mouth to grovel. I felt awful . More than anything, I wanted to get back to the friendship that meant so much to me.
So that’s where I went, to the place where we were comfortable and trusting enough to mess with each other.
“It’s your chin,” I said gravely. “It’s too pointy. You know I’ve never been able to get past it.”
Her expression wavered between crumpling with sorrow and flashing into outrage. After a second, she curled her fingers against her mouth and looked away. A tiny snort came out of her.
“It’s not the moustache?” she asked.
“No, the moustache suits you.”
“You’re a horrible person.” Her eyes were gleaming with tears, but there was a smile in her voice.
“I am a terrible person,” I agreed, heart lifting at that glimmer of humor. “Shane said to book the massage for when he arrived because airplane seats do in his back.” I suspected it had also been an exit strategy from meeting Ashley’s family, but that didn’t change the fact I was out three hundred bucks if we didn’t get our asses downstairs. “I have to pay for it either way. What do you say? You’re stressed out. I feel like a sack of rocks. Let’s get a massage.”
I didn’t wait for her to agree, just brought the phone to my ear.
“We’ll be right there.”