CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 5
Ivy
I practically bolt before I say or do something I’ll seriously regret.
The breeze hits my face, but it does nothing to cool me off. My skin’s flushed, my pulse is still hammering, and Carter’s words keep echoing in my head.
"I’m excellent at following rules. But I’m even better at breaking them."
God, who says things like that? Who leans in like he’s going to kiss you, teases your throat with his breath, and then just walks away like it didn’t mean anything?
I sip my coffee too fast, burning my tongue. Serves me right.
The moment I sink into the plush cabana, I take a deep breath, letting my gaze sweep over the pristine white sand. Even with the storm clouds gathering on the horizon, the view is breathtaking—wild, untamed, yet oddly serene. The rhythmic crash of the waves soothes something restless inside me, and for the first time since arriving, I feel like I can actually breathe.
I take a moment to check my emails before dialing Vanessa. She answers on the second ring, her voice sharp with expectation.
“Tell me you’re calling to say you finally left that man and checked into a different hotel.”
I sigh, tucking my legs beneath me. “If only it were that simple.”
Vanessa groans. “Okay, spill. What happened now? Is he being extra annoying, or just his usual level of insufferable?”
I hesitate, staring out at the water. “Neither? I mean, don’t get me wrong—he’s still arrogant, still way too smug for his own good. But…” I trail off, unsure how to put it into words.
“But what?” she presses.
“I don’t know. He’s not as awful as I thought. He actually made me coffee this morning. We played cards. It was… tolerable.”
“Tolerable?” Ness scoffs. “Girl, you’re on a workcation, not starring in a rom-com where you fall for the brooding billionaire you can’t stand.”
Ness and I met freshman year of college—two broke girls with fake IDs, questionable taste in guys, and a bond sealed over instant noodles and late-night therapy sessions. We’ve been ride-or-die ever since. Her personality is a perfect match for mine.
I bite back a laugh. “Please. That’s not happening.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what they all say. Then boom—next thing you know, you’re making out in the middle of a blackout and convincing yourself it doesn’t mean anything.”
I roll my eyes. “You have been reading way too many romance novels.”
“Oh, I absolutely have. And you know what? They’re usually right. So be careful, Ivy.”
I shake my head. “Trust me, Vanessa. He is not my type. And even if I did choose the handsome, rich guy for once, he would certainly not choose me. A guy like that has women lining up for miles, and I am not about to join that queue.”
Vanessa chuckles. “Again… stop it! He would be lucky to have a woman like you. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but please be sure to bring my amazing, empowering best friend back and leave this Negative Nancy on the island.” She laughs, then softens. “But seriously, just don’t let his pretty face distract you from the fact that he’s probably still a jerk underneath it all.”
I nod. “Exactly. I’m not going to forget everything just because he smiles at me or does one decent thing since I met him.”
“Good. Stay strong, Ivy. You’re there to focus and recharge so you can get your work done, not to get entangled with some corporate hottie who thinks he’s all that.”
“I know, Vanessa. Believe me, I know,” I assure her.
After we say our goodbyes, I set my phone aside and close my eyes, letting the sound of the waves lull me into a state of semi-relaxation—just a bit longer before getting lost in my story.
The Hawaiian breeze is warm, salty, and deceptively soothing as I sit in the shade of a cabana, my laptop screen glowing in the dimming light. The ocean stretches endlessly before me—a postcard-perfect view that people cross oceans to see. But I didn’t come here just to relax. I came here to work… ish.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, scrolling through the dozens of files I’ve collected over the past few months. Leases. Eviction notices. Construction permits. Every document tells the same story: a powerhouse real estate firm quietly buying up low-income housing across the city, promising renovations and better living conditions. Instead, entire buildings have been cleared out—residents pushed out with fake eviction notices or paltry buyouts that wouldn’t cover a year’s rent anywhere else.
On paper, it looks legal. But it’s not. I know that for a fact.
I exhale slowly, rubbing the bridge of my nose. The deeper I dig, the worse it gets. These weren’t just evictions. Tenants were harassed, utilities mysteriously shut off, and mold complaints ignored until their apartments became unlivable. And once they were gone? The properties were either flipped into high-end condos or left to rot—part of a strategy to drive down property values for profit.
Lost in my work, I don’t notice Carter approaching until he’s standing right beside me, his shadow falling over the screen. Startled, I look up to find him gazing down at me with a curious expression.
“Didn’t really take you for the type to work on vacation.”
I smirk, closing my laptop. “Didn’t really take you for the type to care about what I do on my vacation.”
Carter raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Touché. But I can’t help it if I’m intrigued by the mysterious woman with a mission.”
I shake my head, trying to hide the rush of warmth at his interest. “Well… I did tell you I came here for work. But it’s nothing, just some research.”
He nods, taking a seat across from me. “Research, huh? Sounds serious.”
I shrug, studying him carefully. “It is. It’s a big story, and if I don’t get it right, I may end up losing my job. I know this company is shady, you know? I just have to prove it.”
Carter leans back, his gaze thoughtful. “Sounds like a tough spot to be in. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the corporate world, it’s that the truth always finds a way out.”
I raise an eyebrow, surprised by his insight. “You think so?”
He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. People can try to bury it, twist it, or manipulate it—but eventually, the truth comes to light. And when it does, those responsible will have to face the consequences.”
I don’t actually know for a fact that Carter is a billionaire, but it’s clear he’s filthy rich. Still, I have to admit—it was nice hearing him say that. For a moment, he felt… relatable.
“Thank you,” I say softly, meeting his gaze. “I needed to hear that.”
His expression shifts, something unreadable flickering in his eyes before he nods. “Anytime, Ivy. We’re all just trying to make a difference in our own way.”Carter leans back, glancing toward the horizon. “Storm’s finally letting up a bit. Want to grab dinner with me? Somewhere that doesn’t involve a microwave and emergency rations?”
I blink. “Like… a date?”
He shrugs, casual. “More like two semi-trapped adults pretending to enjoy overpriced resort food. You can even keep calling me Grumpy if it makes you feel better.”
I smirk. “It’s Airport Rudo, actually. Fine. But if the waiter brings out a candle and starts singing ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight,’ I’m walking out.”
“Deal,” he says, standing and offering me his hand. “Come on, Tornado.”
I narrow my eyes. “We are not starting that again.”
***
We settle into a small table at Ke Kai Lani, the resort’s open-air restaurant perched on a bluff with a sweeping ocean view. Tiki torches flicker in the breeze, and a slack-key guitar plays softly in the background. The sky glows with post-storm pastels—lavender, gold, and the faintest blush of pink. The mood is light. Tropical romance in a bottle. I’m trying not to fall for it.
We sit at a two-top under a thatched canopy, ordering from a server who introduces himself as Kimo and has a permanent grin.
Carter orders the catch of the day, and I go for the coconut-crusted shrimp. We talk. Really talk. About favorite books, guilty-pleasure TV shows, and the best desserts we’ve ever had. It’s easy. Too easy.
“You’ve got something on your cheek,” I say, reaching for my napkin before I can stop myself. I gently wipe it away, and the moment my fingers graze his skin, a blush creeps up my neck.
That was… impulsive. Too intimate. But being around him makes it easy to forget my usual boundaries.
He tries to play it cool, offering a casual smile, but I catch the flicker of surprise in his eyes—and now I’m blushing even harder.
When we’re halfway through dessert, Kimo returns with a massive cocktail shaped like a pineapple, topped with sparklers and fruit.
“And now,” he announces proudly, “a complimentary honeymoon surprise from Coral Bay Resort!”
I nearly choke on my drink.
The drink is big enough for two, carved into a pineapple, complete with pink umbrellas and a paper sign that says Congratulations, Newlyweds!
Carter raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, we’re not—” I begin.
“We totally are,” Carter cuts in, leaning back and sliding his arm over my chair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
The waiter beams. “Compliments of Coral Bay Resort! We just love seeing honeymooners.”
Carter’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “Thanks. We’ll enjoy it.”
He turns back to me with a look that says: Just go with it.
“You’re ridiculous,” I whisper.
“Mrs. Volcor, please,” he teases, raising his glass.
I play along, clinking my straw to his. “Well then,” I say, lifting the oversized drink with a smirk. “To us.”
“To surviving the first three days.” He winks. “To Mr. and Mrs. Volcor. May the storm never break us.”
As we sip from the same ridiculous pineapple, laughter bubbles between us. Our eyes lock—and for a second, it feels real.
We leave the restaurant and walk down the flickering torch-lit path and something tightens in my chest.
That wasn’t supposed to feel this… good.
Pretending to be his wife, sipping that ridiculous pineapple cocktail with him like we weren’t complete strangers—I should’ve rolled my eyes and brushed it off. But I didn’t.
Instead, I laughed. I leaned in. I played along.
And for a second—just one stupid second—I forgot about the storm. The deadline. The danger of letting someone like him get too close.
This wasn’t the plan.
But now, his hand brushes against mine as we walk, and … I don’t pull away.
As we make our way down the beach path, the winds pick up again—light at first, but enough to remind us that this storm isn’t done with us yet.
Silence stretches between us—not awkward, just easy. The steady crash of waves fills the space, and I realize how strangely natural it feels to be around him.
Then, without thinking, I ask, “So, what’s your story?”
He chuckles softly. “My story? Oh, you know—just your average guy pretending he’s got it all figured out.”
I arch a brow, smirking. “And here I thought you were just out here flexing your muscles in case the storm needed a hero.”
He grins, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, it never hurts to be prepared.”
The breeze whips gently around us, lifting the hem of my dress again and sending goosebumps racing across my skin.
Carter’s shirt flutters open at the collar, revealing more of that tanned chest I pretended not to notice at dinner. The fabric clings to him in places, molded against solid muscle and a broad frame that looks too good under moonlight.
I try not to stare. I try really hard.
But between the wind, the laughter, and the way his voice dips when he says my name—God help me, I’m unraveling.
And the scariest part?
I’m not sure I want to stop.
“The storm seems to be picking up. We should probably go inside,” I say with more urgency than I meant.
He chuckles. “Afraid of a little wind?”
I scoff. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Uh-huh.” He glances up at the sky, smirking. “Let’s head over to our room. Looks like we’ve got about five minutes before this turns ugly.”
I follow his gaze. He’s right. The clouds are rolling in fast, and the waves are rougher than before.
We arrive at the entrance leading to our bungalow and he steps aside, gesturing toward the path. “After you, Tornado.”
I roll my eyes but start walking, Carter falling into step beside me. The wind howls around us, and a sudden gust sends my hat flying toward the beach.
“Crap!” I run after it, but Carter is faster. He snatches it out of the air and holds it just out of reach, grinning.
“Really?” I glare at him. “Give it back.”
He twirls it between his fingers. “You know, you say you’re not afraid of anything, but I’m pretty sure you flinched when that thunder hit earlier.”
I cross my arms. “I did not.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go, and I place the hat back on my head like an idiot, so of course, the wind takes it again.
He chuckles and rolls his eyes before retrieving it once more, but this time, he holds onto it. “Come on, let’s get inside,” he insists, reaching for my hand.
I hesitate for a moment, feeling the warmth of his hand enveloping mine. A jolt of electricity shoots through me at the contact, surprising me with its intensity. But I can’t deny the comfort it brings as we speed-walk through the growing storm.
The wind whips around us, tugging at our clothes and hair, but Carter’s presence beside me is a grounding force. The rain starts to fall in thick sheets, drenching us within seconds.
We reach the bungalow just as thunder rumbles overhead.
I rush to change out of my wet clothes, grateful for the shelter of the bungalow. Carter is already peeling off his soaked shirt, revealing a toned chest and tattoos that makes me avert my eyes quickly, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
With a towel wrapped around me, I watch as Carter rummages through his bag, pulling out dry clothes.
“I hope you don’t mind if I borrow some of your clothes,” he says sheepishly, holding up a T-shirt.
I chuckle, feeling more at ease with him. “Go for it. I doubt you’d fit into any of my clothing anyway.”
Carter grins and tosses the shirt at me. “Catch!”
“I don’t even know how that got in there,” I say, inspecting the shirt.
He shrugs. “Not sure. I must’ve grabbed it by accident thinking it was one of my white tees. But who knows—maybe if my roommate’s belongings weren’t all over the place, these little mishaps wouldn’t happen.” He glances at me.
“Well, not everyone can be a perfectionist, Mr. Matching Socks,” I joke.
He lets out a loud laugh. “You know, you should really work on your insults.”
He grabs a pair of shorts before disappearing into the bathroom to change. The sound of rain against the windows creates a cozy ambiance, contrasting with the storm raging outside.
As I wait for Carter to finish changing, I light a few candles scattered around the bungalow to ward off the encroaching darkness.
Then he steps out—looking way too damn fine.