10. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Jonathan
“O kay, I’ll admit it,” I mutter to myself. “It’s not Bora Bora, but it’s not terrible.”
I step up to the window, stretching out my sore back.
“Not bad for a free trip.”
The golden sand glows under the morning sun as turquoise waves curl along the shore. Palm trees sway lazily, their leaves rustling in the breeze. The scent of salt and tropical flowers drifts in, mingling with distant laughter from the beach. For a moment, I let myself enjoy it—almost paradise, even if it isn’t Bora Bora.
As I turn away from the window, the distant clatter of keys draws my attention. I follow the sound into the bedroom, stopping mid-step when I see Emma already awake, her reading glasses slipping low on her nose as she hunches over her laptop. I pause, watching her, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in her expression. She stays hunched over her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard, her lips pressed into a thin line as she furrows her brow. I hesitate, watching the way her brows knit together in concentration. Does she even realize I’m here? I pull on my shirt slowly, half-expecting her to acknowledge me, but she doesn’t look up until I shift my weight and the floor creaks beneath me.
“What are you working on?” I ask, peeking toward her screen.
Emma’s fingers pause over the keyboard, hesitation flickering across her face before she snaps her laptop shut and shoots me a sharp look. “My draft. I didn’t come here for fun—I have work to do. And I’m still pissed we aren’t even in Bora Bora.”
“If you want the real Bora Bora experience, we could rent a boat and make it happen,” I suggest with a shrug.
She waves me off. “Like I said, I’m here to work. And going would just be a waste of your money. At least this vacation is free, which suits our pretend marriage just fine.”
That word— pretend —lodges in my chest, stirring an unexpected pang of disappointment. I knew the deal going in, but lately, it hasn’t felt so fake. Maybe I underestimated how hard this would be.
I watch her, noting the way her nose scrunches in concentration. She’s cute when she’s focused, but I shake the thought away.
“What part are you working on now?” I ask.
She sighs, visibly irritated. “The story. The draft. The thing I need to write.”
“Yeah, but are you still on the beginning, or—?”
She glares at me. “Jonathan, I finally have enough inspiration to write, so if you’ll be a darling husband and order room service, I’d appreciate it.”
I smirk. “Look at us. Already bickering like an old married couple.”
“I would rather eat my own barf than be married to you until we’re elderly,” Emma deadpans.
That stings, but I ignore it and chuckle. “Yes, ma’am. Coffee or tea?”
“Hot cocoa.”
I place the order, and surprisingly, the food arrives fast. Emma actually pauses her work to eat, stirring her hot cocoa with a small smile. “I’m convinced this place charges double just because we think it’s Bora Bora,” she jokes, shaking her head. “Tourist tax, I suppose.”
I chuckle. “Good thing this so-called honeymoon comes with free meals.”
She rolls her eyes but takes a sip of her cocoa. “For once, something about this arrangement is working in my favor.”
The tension in her shoulders eases, and for the first time since we arrived, she doesn’t seem weighed down by frustration. She even talks about how easily the words flowed this morning, drumming her fingers on the table with excitement as she recalls the rush of inspiration. “It’s almost second nature now,” she says, beaming. “The words just came so easily. I can’t wait to show it to Agnes.”
“Who?” I frown.
“Agnes, my agent. She’s determined to make me a bestseller, but I don’t think that’s happening. Not even in my wildest dreams.”
She laughs, but I hear the self-doubt underneath it.
I meet her gaze. “Don’t say that. You don’t know what the universe has planned for you. You’re talented, Emma. You deserve recognition, and one day, you’ll get it.”
She studies me, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. “Why are you being nice to me? Does this have anything to do with the island that isn’t Bora Bora, or has my charming personality finally won you over?”
I snort. “There’s nothing charming about your personality, but it is infectious. Maybe I’m just starting to like you. Is that so hard to comprehend?”
She stares at me, lips slightly parted as if trying to decode my words. I don’t know why I said that, but I meant it.
Emma raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jonathan Thompson?”
I roll my eyes as we finish breakfast in silence. Later, while Emma returns to her writing, I stare out the massive living room window at the beach below. People wade into the water, walk along the shoreline, and soak in the sun. An idea sparks.
“Let’s go swimming,” I suggest.
Emma looks up, unimpressed. “No.”
I sigh. “This is no way to spend a honeymoon—locked in a dark room, hunched over your laptop like a little old lady.”
She shoots me a glare. “We aren’t on a real honeymoon.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.” I pull up the blinds, flooding the room with sunlight. Emma winces. “I didn’t know I married a vampire,” I tease.
“If I were a vampire, I’d tear your throat open like a carton of milk.”
“That’s mean.” I sigh. “Come on. The sky is awake. We’re awake. Let’s go outside.”
Emma groans, dragging a hand through her hair and avoiding my gaze. “Going outside is the last thing I want to do.” She shifts on the couch, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “And besides, I’m not a great swimmer.”
“I can teach you. The water looks tame enough.”
She huffs, then after a beat, mutters, “Fine. Give me a moment.”
I hear her grumbling about whether Mia packed a bikini as I step out to give her privacy. When she finally emerges, robe tied loosely over her swimsuit, I almost forget how to breathe. Her red hair is pulled into a ponytail, stray curls framing her face and catching the sunlight like polished copper. The breeze teases a few loose tendrils, making them dance against her cheeks. My gaze lingers longer than it should, my pulse quickening at the effortless way she carries herself, unaware of just how stunning she looks. She applies ChapStick, catches me staring, and frowns.
“What?”
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
The walk to the beach is longer than I expected, winding through bustling neighborhoods where vendors eagerly call out to us. An elderly woman holds up a handmade necklace, the beads gleaming in the sunlight. “For you, young lady,” she says, offering Emma a warm smile. “A token of beauty for your beauty.”
Emma pauses, pressing a hand to her chest. “That’s sweet. How much?”
The woman winks. “For you, just a smile will do.”
Emma grins, accepting the necklace and slipping it over her head. “Thank you.”
Farther down, a man gestures to a stall of woven hats. “Sir, your wife will need this in the sun. Very fine quality.”
Emma snorts. “Wife? That’s a strong word.”
The vendor eyes us both knowingly. “Ah, but love is a journey, is it not?”
Jonathan smirks. “More like a hike through rough terrain.”
The vendor chuckles. “Keep walking, my friend. Smoother roads lie ahead.”
Emma struggles to keep up, panting slightly. “My stamina is disgraceful,” she grumbles.
I chuckle. “Just a little farther.”
When we reach the shore, Emma takes a deep breath, a rare, genuine smile lighting up her face. “This is exactly what I needed. Thank you.”
I nod, not wanting to ruin the moment.
After setting up a blanket, she shrugs off her robe, and I quickly avert my eyes. “Ready for your lesson?” I ask.
“I can swim,” she admits. “I just lied to annoy you.”
I stare at her. She laughs, her hair slipping loose in the breeze, looking like something out of a dream.
“What?” she asks, catching me watching her.
“Nothing. For a second, I thought you weren’t real.”
She flushes, looking away. “Oh.”
We sit in silence for a while before we finally decide to go into the water.
I walk in first, my toes touching the water before hers do. “Careful now, the water is a bit cold.”
Emma laughs again, a sound I’m beginning to enjoy very much.
“I can handle a bit of cold,” Emma says as she walks into the water. Her walk is a little wobbly, so I stretch out a hand to help support her. She holds my hand, causing warmth to wash over me.
I bite down a shiver, and even after Emma takes her hand away from mine, I can still feel the lingering warmth.
“The view is breathtaking, isn’t it?”
A man whistles from behind us, and Emma stiffens. I turn around to find a fairly handsome man gawking at her without even a hint of shyness or shame.
As the man’s gaze lingers on Emma, she shifts uncomfortably, her arms tightening around her torso. I notice her stiff posture, the way her fingers subtly try to cover more of her body, and something inside of me ignites. I swallow hard, my jaw clenching as I debate whether to confront the man or let it slide. But when the stranger smirks, his gaze raking over Emma unabashedly, anger surges past my restraint.
The tension thickens as the man takes a slow step closer. “You don’t belong here, do you?” he muses, his voice dripping with something smug and self-assured. His eyes don’t leave Emma, and my stomach twists.
Emma clears her throat, forcing a polite but firm smile. “We’re just enjoying the beach.”
The man chuckles, the sound grating. “I can see that,” he says, his gaze lingering on her too long.
I step between them. “You should leave. You’re making my wife uncomfortable.”
The man scoffs, his grin widening. “It’s a free world,” he drawls. “Besides, if she didn’t want attention, maybe she should cover up a bit more.”
Emma inhales sharply and takes a half-step back. My vision tunnels, heat surging through my veins like a fire I can’t contain.
“What did you just say?” My voice is low, taut with warning.
The man tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Relax, man. Just appreciating the view.”
I should walk away. I should de-escalate. But then the man smirks again, throwing out a crude remark that makes Emma’s face flush with discomfort.
That’s it.
My pulse pounds, drowning out everything else—the sound of the waves, the distant chatter of beachgoers—until all that remains is the sharp, insistent need to make this man regret his words. I know I should walk away, that a fight won’t solve anything, but when the man smirks again, another crude remark slipping past his lips, something in me snaps. Before I can think, before I can stop myself, I surge forward, my knuckles colliding with the man’s jaw. The impact sends him stumbling back into the sand with a grunt. A stunned silence falls over the beach for a moment before the man lets out a strangled curse and rubs his jaw.
“Stay away from her,” I warn, my voice sharp as steel.
My knuckles throb with sharp pain, the sting radiating up my arm, but I barely register it over the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. My heart pounds so loudly in my ears that I almost miss Emma’s sharp gasp.
I clench my jaw, breathing hard as the heat of my anger refuses to fade. The man’s words echo in my head, fueling the tension that still lingers in my muscles. Only when Emma’s hand brushes against my forearm do I finally exhale, my breath shaky as the weight of what I did settles over me.
Emma stares at me, wide-eyed, her lips parted slightly. The man glares at us, but recognizing the warning in my stance, mutters something under his breath and stalks away.
I roll my shoulders to work out the tension before turning back to Emma. “Are you okay?”
She nods slowly, then, surprising me, lets out a small laugh. “Did you just punch someone for me?”
I rub my knuckles, smirking. “I guess I did.”
Emma shifts her weight and glances at me with something between surprise and amusement. A flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe curiosity—crosses her face before she exhales, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips. Her fingers toy with the edge of her bikini before she exhales, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Emma shakes her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
I shrug. “Turns out I don’t like when people make my wife uncomfortable.”
She holds my gaze for a beat longer, something unreadable in her expression, before she exhales and shakes her head again. “Come on. Let’s go enjoy the water before you start a full-blown beach brawl.”