6. Jude
JUDE
“He’s so unbelievably hot. If you don’t sleep with him, maybe I should?”
I scowl at the back of his dark head, hating the way his hair curls a little at the nape of his neck, like a male model in a hot and sweaty cologne advertisement.
The muscles in his back ripple beneath his light gray T-shirt as he bends to pick a kayak from the sand and pull it up the beach.
As he turns, his dark, angular jaw cuts a sleek profile, his face falling into shadow as the late afternoon sun beats down behind him, glaring me in the eyes.
“You’re out of your mind,” I mutter to Mel, turning my attention to the fresh fruit kebabs we’re eating and pulling off a piece of pineapple.
“Look at that sun-kissed hair. Imagine looking down and seeing that between your legs. A golden ball of orgasm-giving beauty.”
I follow her gaze to Declan. He throws us a boyish wink.
He’s chatting with the married couple who came here to take some emergency time away from work to save their marriage.
The wife’s words, not mine. Her husband, a quiet, tense-looking man, is some bigwig at an oil company and never takes a day off.
It was a choice of coming here or granting her a divorce.
He chose here.
I can’t help but sympathize with both of them.
She wants the man she loves back. And he looked more stricken than I felt when he handed his cell over.
People rely on him. But he wants his marriage to survive.
It’s obvious he loves his wife by the way he looks at her, listening intently every time she speaks.
“Stop it,” Mel warns.
“What?” I frown, tearing a piece of melon off my skewer and chomping it down.
“Stop looking at them and wondering what it would have been like if you were married right now.”
“I’m not,” I lie.
Mel chews on a piece of fruit to prevent herself from saying more.
“Fine.” I sigh. “But it’s not like that. I look at them and think, even when you’re with the right person, it can still all go to shit.”
“Relationships are hard. Your mom said as much. They need work.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, recalling the way Mom had given me some champagne-fueled advice at my bachelorette. Telling me that marriage takes work and compromise. And that there were times she and my father had to really tough it out in order to stay the course.
“What was it she said?” Mel asks, sucking the juice off her fingers.
“That you should pick the person you fight best with. Because if you can’t be bothered to fight with them about what you care about, then you can’t care as much about them as you think you do.”
“That was it.” Mel smiles. “Your mom’s wise.”
“She is.”
A pang of homesickness tugs at my chest even though it’s only day two.
So far we’ve done journaling, meditation, and yoga, led by Emmy.
And kayaking and snorkeling led by Declan.
The two times I’ve caught a glance of Woody’s surly face is when he set the fire going after dinner for us all to sit around last night, and just now when he came to sort out the kayaks.
I’ve no idea where he’s been the rest of the time. And I don’t care.
“Right. Initial inductions are over, and you’ve all had a chance to get to know one another a little better without distractions. So you can have these back,” Declan says as he begins handing out cell phones from the basket.
I leap to my feet and rush over.
“Thank you!” Two British girls squeal. They’re taking a year out to travel together before starting university, and Mel and I had a giggle chatting with them at the fire last night hearing their idealized opinions on dating an American guy after they fell in love with American actor, Jay Anderson, watching his latest film.
Once they heard about what Callum did, their faces fell, and I felt like a bitch who had ruined their fantasy.
“Here you go.” Declan holds my phone out to me, but as I reach to take it, he pulls it back, his eyes twinkling. “You sure weren’t impressed when I took this. Was it because there’re things on it you were worried I’d see?”
I didn’t need two days to build up a jokey dynamic with Declan. He’s so easy to get along with. And definitely a grade A flirt. Mel was right about that. But he does it with everyone, not just me.
“Uh-huh, all my audition videos for girl-on-girl porn that Mel helped me with,” I reply innocently.
Declan’s brows shoot up and he snaps his attention to Mel behind me, a grin splitting his face in two. “Fuck, really?”
“What do you think?” I scoff, shoving him playfully in the chest as I snatch my phone.
He groans in disappointment as I turn away, eager to charge my phone and check my calls and emails.
Dark eyes are waiting to burn me.
I stare at his hulking frame as he drops the kayak he’s positioning beside the others like he’s pissed with it. Sweat glistens his brow, and he holds my eyes as he pulls a water bottle from the back pocket of his shorts and unscrews it.
Thick muscles contract in his neck as he drains the bottle, then crumples it inside his fist.
The move would be hot if it weren’t for the sullen giant who’s doing it.
I smile sweetly at him and brandish my phone in the air like a prize.
His eyes darken before he turns away. The back of his T-shirt is soaked in sweat, and I stare at him as he bends to reposition a kayak. Strong, thick thighs flex as he straightens, displaying a round, firm ass that’s as solid and unyielding as his penetrating glare.
I bet he fucks angrily too. Taking out all his rage on your pussy like it’s to blame for his lack of happy hormones.
He probably bites nipples, never sucks.
Rips orgasms from you instead of coaxing them.
I blink back to reality as Mel appears beside me.
“You okay? You look flushed,” she asks.
“Too much sun, I think. My head feels weird.”
She studies me, concerned. “Let’s cool off inside for a bit, yeah?”
I swallow, averting my eyes from Woody’s muscular ass.
“Good idea.”