Chapter 35
After havingPoppy in my arms and beneath my body for fifteen hours straight, it pains me to let her go to settle into her own seat for landing. I’m clingy, desperate. But I’ve stopped caring about that. The only thing I want is to have her close to me as often as possible, and I’m not willing to miss out on this opportunity to do just that.
She stares out the window at the teal-blue water beneath us in awe, her hands clasped and lying between her bouncing knees. My ears pop as I watch her take in the view. I’ve never been to Bora Bora before, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t look away from her. I’ll see enough of the ocean once we arrive.
“This is only the airport,” I tell her over the stuffed sensation in my ears. “We’ll take a boat from here to the resort.”
“Are we where I think we are?” she asks, her nose nearly pressed against the window.
“Welcome to Bora Bora, honey.”
That tears her attention from the view. Her mouth falls open as she blinks at me in disbelief. I only grin in return, feeling too fucking happy to do much else.
“I’m starting to think you know a bit too much about grovelling,” she accuses lightly.
I keep my stare open and honest. “Maybe. Or I just care about you and want to apologize properly. I can easily afford to take you here, so why shouldn’t I?”
“Fair enough, Mr. Black Card.”
With a wink, I lean back in my chair and grip the armrests hard as we land. The plane jerks when the wheels hit the runway, but my pilot is one of the best, and soon enough, we’re gliding without a hitch. Poppy’s staring out the window again, taking in the scenery that seems to have no end. One glance out my own window and my breath hitches.
The airport is a strip of land in a world of turquoise water and lush greenery. A tall, tree-covered mountain juts up from the water, and then it’s just . . . beautiful blue.
Slowly, the plane comes to a soft stop, and Poppy’s bursting out of her seat, brown eyes big and beautiful as they find me. She rushes back to me and tosses her arms up and around my neck. Then, her lips are on mine.
“This is incredible, Garrison,” she breathes into my mouth.
I swallow the automatic response that comes to mind, not wanting to sound like a total lovesick idiot, and instead say, “You’ve seen nothing yet. Let me grab our bags, and then we’ll head out for a better look.”
She doesn’t pull away immediately like I expect her to. My heart thumps rapidly as she leans back enough to stare into my eyes and smile, cheeks flushed.
“Thank you. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I cup her cheek and dip my head to take her mouth again, not trusting myself to speak. Besides, how am I supposed to formulate the way I feel into words when I have no fucking clue what to make of all of it yet?
We have five days here. Maybe that will be enough time to figure it out. If not, well, I’m not ready to consider that yet.
“Stop it!You’re fucking kidding me!” Poppy shouts, hands over her mouth.
I laugh, letting it grow in volume as I stand back on the wooden walkway outside of our bungalow on the water with our suitcases in tow and watch her react to where we’ll be staying.
With a palm to her lower back, I guide her toward the entrance. Beneath the shade of the thatched roof, the sweat on the back of my neck isn’t so noticeable. It’s hot here today, and I’m itching to get into the pool I know is waiting at the back of the bungalow.
Our accommodations are the best the resort has to offer. I made sure of it, not batting an eye at the price because it didn’t matter. It was worth it to see this right now. I’d spend my last dollar to see her this happy.
“Come,” I murmur, leading us to the door, thankful my sea legs have worn off. I’ve never been one for boating.
The key card beeps as I tap it against the lock, and we step inside. Wooden plank flooring travels throughout the entire villa, with colourful carpets in the living space and beneath the square dining table. It’s all one big open area, and with the wide windows and tall ceilings, it feels massive. The ocean breeze drifts inside from the open patio door that leads out to the back deck and pool.
I follow Poppy inside as she takes the lead. No longer in the dress from her date, she slipped into a pair of cotton shorts, a flowy tank top, and flip-flops on the plane. She fits into the space beautifully, and I let her explore without interruption.
Her focus lands on the water waiting outside the sliding patio doors at the other end of the bungalow, directly across from us. The kitchen is beautiful, with a long island and updated appliances, but neither of us pays it any mind.
“This is something out of a dream,” she says while heading for the open door.
I slide my hands into the pockets of my shorts, having changed on the plane prior to landing as well. It’s been years since I’ve dressed so casually, but I’m quite enjoying it. The thin material of my polo is less restricting than a dress shirt, and without the weight of leather shoes on my feet, I feel a million times lighter.
“It’s very much reality, Poppy,” I tease behind her.
Stepping onto the deck, I blow out a long breath. The water is everywhere around us, making the world feel like it’s at the tip of my fingertips. Two white lounge chairs face the water on one side of the deck, while the other features a dining table with floral-printed cushions on the seats around it. The square pool is directly in the middle, cut into the deck on the edge of the water. I’d bet if I reached a hand over the ledge, I’d be able to touch the ocean.
Poppy steps up to the edge of the deck and leans on the railing. “How are we supposed to decide what to do first?”
I move behind her and grip the railing on either side of her, trapping her in place as I nuzzle her neck. “There’s still far more to explore inside, and I’m sure you’re hungry?”
The food on the plane was fine for plane food, but I’m starving for a decent meal.
She hums, leaning against my chest. “I could eat.”
“Come, baby.”
Taking her hand in mine, I spin her to face me and press a kiss to her forehead before leading us back inside. The pictures didn’t do this place justice. Not even close.
I show her the bathrooms first, including the one with a bathtub big enough to fit a dozen people and double wicker vanities, before tugging her to our bedroom.
The king bed is wrapped beneath perfectly white bedding and plush pillows with two towel swans kissing against the pillows. My brows jump at the scattering of red rose petals along the mattress and the ice bucket with a tall bottle of champagne on the nightstand.
A wooden canopy with sheer white curtains that move in the breeze is above it, and I’m drawn toward it as quickly as Poppy is. She turns to sit on the edge of the bed, and I instantly step between her legs, burying my hands in the hair at the base of her neck as I tip it back.
Her lashes flutter, so soft and brown without any makeup on them. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
“I seem to always want you to kiss me.”
My grin is full of pure male satisfaction. “Good.”
She tastes like cherry lip balm as I press our lips together and drink her in. Her hands find my hips and rest there, fingers drawing shapes over my thin shirt. Our kiss is slow, languid. There’s no need to rush here.
“Food. Let me feed you,” I whisper.
Smirking into the kiss, she replies, “Maybe I’m hungry for something else.”
It’s a ridiculous statement, and I love everything about it. Poppy’s so damn vibrant and alive. So free. Lame jokes have never sounded better than they do coming out of her mouth. They make me feel younger, as if I’m even old in the first place.
I feel it, though. Not in this moment, but over the past few years, I’ve begun feeling more like a bitter sixty-year-old man than I should. Every day was the same. All work and no play. Fuck, no anything that didn’t take place in a boardroom or in my office late into the night.
My company is my life, and I love it. But . . . could I still love it while also living a bit more? My stomach pangs. I don’t have anyone back home to live with me.
“Hey. What just happened?” Poppy asks, tracing the shell of my ear with one of her short, rounded nails.
The concern swimming in her eyes is nearly enough to send me spiralling. I can’t do anything besides stare at her, memorizing every feature that I’ve grown to love. The small indent in the centre of her chin, the hint of freckles on her cheeks that I know will pop up in the sun, and the soft shape of her eyes that gives away how sweet she is inside.
She thinks this place is a dream, but I wonder if she knows that the only one I have is her.
“I’m just happy. Really happy,” I tell her.
Those soft eyes of hers harden quizzically. She presses the pad of her thumb to the crease I know must be between my frows. “You’re frowning. That doesn’t typically happen when someone’s happy.”
“Would you believe me if I said that being happy is what’s making me upset? That all of a sudden, I’m hit with the realization that my life before you was pathetic and that after having you wake me up after years of walking around half-alive, I’m supposed to go back to how things used to be?”
She slips her thumb down my face to trace the shape of my lips. I shiver, my eyes drifting shut.
“Yes, I would believe you. I don’t know what comes next for us, but I do know that if I let myself think about it, I’ll cry. And I don’t want to cry right now, Garrison. I’m so fucking happy that I don’t know how to contain myself,” she admits, her words hot puffs across my mouth.
“So, we won’t think about it, then. Not yet.”
“Not yet,” she agrees solemnly. “For now, how about you order me some fancy food to eat so that we can go explore. Sound good?”
I open my eyes, finding her so much closer than before. Our noses brush when I lean forward. “Yeah, I can do that.”
She cracks a grin and kisses me a final time before dropping her hands to my chest and pushing me back. I take two steps backward, and she slips out of my grasp, ducking into the bathroom before I have a chance to swat at her ass.
“Food, Sir Douchealot! You can spank me after,” she calls in a teasing tone that has me laughing again.
The sound of laughter used to be so foreign to me, but now, it’s as familiar as Poppy’s cheek-splitting smile. I never want to lose this feeling again, and as of this moment, it doesn’t matter what I have to do to keep it.