34. Pesky Bikini
CHAPTER 34
Pesky Bikini
IVY
“Holy shit,” I say, rubbing my eyes. It’s early morning but the tropical heat of the day has already arrived.
“Good morning, beautiful,” murmurs Alistair, AKA sex god of sensual anointing, placing a cup of coffee on my bamboo side table.
“Did that really happen?” My head is swimming with the surreal memories of the previous night. Surely not. Surely only a strange erotic dream would explain last night’s shenanigans.
Alistair chuckles. “Oh, it happened. I think I still have some chocolate in my hair.”
I belly laugh—not at that, but at how ridiculous our wrestling had been, and how much fun.
“And Chailai?” I ask. One minute I was taking the flask from her, the next she was gone.
“She must have let herself out,” says Alistair. “It was a pre-paid service.”
“Hope you pre-tipped her. She was amazing.”
He opens his palms, his biceps flexing. “Do you even know me?”
“I know you,” I reply, grinning, grabbing his hand and pulling him into bed.
“I need to work out,” he says.
“That’s fortuitous,” I say, grabbing his ass. “I need a workout, too.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he replies.
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll get more than you bargained for.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” I say, squeezing his bum.
“Well,” he reasons. “I guess I should be checking you for any leftover dessert.”
I nod. “It would be the responsible thing to do.”
Alistair starts nuzzling my neck, and my body tingles all over.
My blood starts flowing to all the right places, and then the doorbell rings. I laugh. “Let me guess … bacon and egg anointment?”
Turns out it’s something far more delicious. A little baby called Alexander and lovely Brumilde.
“We’re off to the beach,” she announces. She’s redolent of sunblock and summer. “Anyone care to join us?”
Alex looks so darn cute in his beach outfit and wide-brimmed sun hat.
“Definitely!” I reply, clapping my hands and extending them to see if Alex wants to come to me. He hesitates for a second and then mirrors my arms. I hug him and kiss his forehead before settling him on my hip. “Look at you! All ready for the beach.” Face shiny with suncream, he grins at me.
Alistair is staring at us, so I nudge him. “Swim in the sea?”
He snaps out of it and smiles. “Sounds great.”
We head down to the private beach at the end of a quaint but sturdy boardwalk. The beach sand is pristine, and the sparkling blue ocean as calm as a lake. Chairs and umbrellas have already been set out for us, as well as a huge platter of expertly chopped fresh fruit. Mango, litchi, rambutan, pineapple, papaya, dragonfruit, and all kinds of berries—some that I don’t recognize. There is also coconut, which reminds me of the night before, and my cheeks warm a little at the memory. I dish up a small bowl for Alex and put him down on a big picnic blanket in the shade, then sit and watch him trying the different fruit. When he tastes the pineapple he screws up his face at the tartness of it, but immediately goes for more, which makes Brumilde and I laugh.
“Coffee or champagne?” asks Alistair.
“Why do we have to choose?” I reply.
“Fair point,” he concedes, and orders both.
“Come watch Alex eat pineapple,” I say, and he pads over the warm powdery sand to us. With perfect timing, the baby takes a nibble and scrunches up one eye. We all laugh, and this time Alex joins us. Alistair’s strong hand rests on the small of my back, and when I look up at him, he kisses me.
“This is perfect,” I say.
“Yes,” he agrees. “It is.”
We spend the morning stretched out on the beach, alternating between shade and sunshine, dry land and water, coffee and champagne. The sea feels like bathwater, but it’s still oddly refreshing. I watch as Alistair, all rippling muscles and drop-dead-gorgeous face sits in the shallows with baby Alex, splashing in the puddles and playing with the wet sand. They have commandeered the bamboo serving utensils as beach toys. The speakers hidden in the umbrellas play Jack Johnson, John Mayer, and Norah Jones on shuffle.
“He’s always been good with kids,” says Brumilde, looking up from her doorstopper of a novel—the latest Kristin Hannah—which I’m only slightly envious of.
“The oldest sibling usually is, I think.” I reply—perhaps thinking of myself.
“Not always,” she retorts. “My brother was an absolute scourge.”
I think of Jamie, who has never said an unkind thing to me in my entire life. I guess that’s one of the advantages of having a sibling born with an extra chromosome. Mum’s latest voicemail had filled me in on how they were preparing Jamie for his new home. He’d be out of hospital in a couple of days and the timings would line up perfectly. The thought prompts me to pick up my phone, something I hadn’t been doing very much lately because living in the here-and-now was infinitely superior to anything I could find on my phone. This is a drastic change to how life was before I met Alistair, when apps were a welcome reprieve from what felt like a pretty hopeless reality.
I text Mum.
Please don’t buy Jamie any art equipment yet. Alistair said he would like to do that. 3
Mum
That’s man’s a keeper!
Yes he is.
Mum doesn’t know about baby Alex yet. She’ll be absolutely over the moon to learn that she has an insta-grandchild. I snap a quick pic of Alistair and Alex playing. I’ll send it to her later. It’s nice to have this secret for now. Becks, however, will absolutely murder me if I keep this from her. I grimace and quickly type out a message.
Becks. There have been … developments.
She comes online and begins typing.
Rebecca Bradley
Grabbing coffee to settle in.
Good or bad developments??
The bad news is that we had to leave the country for a couple of days.
Ooh. Let me guess … the good news is also that you had to leave the country for a couple of days?
Pretty much. We’re in Koh Samui.
You absolute tart.
[Laughing emoji]
Is it amazing? Warm, sunny, white beaches, palm trees?
Yes.
Lucky bitch!
Happy for you but not happy that you *had* to go. How bad is it?
We were attacked on the road. Fucking Kalashnikovs.
WHAT THE FUCK IVY
ARE YOU SERIOUS RN?
DON’T FUCK WITH ME IT’S NOT F FUNNY
Not fucking with you. It was real and terrifying. I’ll tell you everything over ramen.
Fuck ramen, you’re taking me to a Michelin-starred pub.
Fair enough. That’s a deal. May have to go ahead with that total plastic surgery overhaul we discussed last time.
I’ll start gathering pictures of minor celebs from HELLO mag. What kind of nose are you after?
Ded.
Hopefully the surgeries will prevent this outcome.
I’m chuckling to myself when Brumilde sighs, stretches, and stands. “I guess it’s time for me to take Alex home for lunch and a nap.”
Lunch and a nap in an air-conditioned villa sounds amazing.
Always the maternal one, she hands me a bottle of water. “Don’t forget to hydrate.”
“Thanks Brumilde,” I say. “For everything.”
She winks at me and fetches the baby, draping her thin cotton shawl over his back and shoulders.
“Will we see you for dinner?” I’m so excited to try the local food, my mouth salivates just thinking about it.
“Not tonight, thank you, darling. I won’t have the energy to gallivant. I’m going to curl up with Alexander, a packet of biscuits, and watch Strictly. ”
“Sounds pretty darn good.” I smile and kiss Alex’s pudgy hand. “I’ll miss you, little sausage. See you soon, okay?”
Alexander is already half asleep; his eyelids heavy, his body relaxed into Brumilde’s side. She strokes his back as she carries him away to the stroller on the boardwalk, murmuring to him about how well he’s going to sleep, and that she just might cuddle up and join him in dreamland.
I gasp when I feel water droplets hit me. When I look up I have to shield my eyes from the sun.
“Time to take off that pesky bikini,” says Alistair.