27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cookout at The Beach
RAFA
The Morning After
Rafa woke up in a new place to the scent of his fiancée fermented on his skin from an entire evening of making love.
It all seemed both strange and familiar.
He kissed her bare back while she slept soundly before he got out of bed to take a shower.
Sal had told him the night before, over a late dinner and tight embraces, that Harmon was Claire’s half-brother.
They’d talked until there were no more stories to share.
After that, Rafa showed the grimoire, securely kept in his luggage.
While in the shower, his knees buckled, and he blushed at the reason behind it; a lot had happened last night.
They had spent all night talking, but as soon as they were alone in the villa, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.
Rafa felt it was different this time, though.
Normally, making love with Sal was gentle and deliberate, but last night, it was as if a dam had ruptured, engulfing them in the heat of the moment—both breathless, desperate, and wanting.
Rafa was towel-drying his hair and tiptoed out of the bathroom when the sight of the rising sun against the ocean caught his eye.
It was beautiful here. If St. Stephenshire was a place of perpetual autumn, this entire country was one of eternal summer.
For a moment, he entertained the thought of what it would be like living in Sal’s home country.
After the thought, he reverted to his usual routine, starting with coffee.
The Airbnb didn’t have a coffee capsule machine.
Instead, it had a French press, and some freshly ground coffee beans, which was more than enough.
He quickly got to work and brewed a fresh batch of steeped ground Arabica.
In case anyone wanted to pour more into the French press, he left the hot water in the kettle on the stove.
Moments later, he heard Willow’s woozy voice. “That smells good…” she said, still looking sleepy and hair messy hair as she emerged from one of the smaller bedrooms.
“I’ll make you a cup,” Rafa offered as he finished his drink.
Then a man came out of Willow’s room. There was a momentary pause when Rafa took sight of the stranger.
“This is Baron. He works for Harmon.” Willow smiled faintly and continued, “…and he wants a cup too.”
Rafa let out a tight grin. “Hi, Baron, I’m Rafa. I’m Sal’s fiancé.” He walked over and offered him a handshake.
Baron nodded with a smile. “You have my thanks, but I’ll have to decline the cup of coffee. I have to get to Mr. Moon. We still have a few more museums to tour,” he said with a noticeable English accent. “Are you joining us?” he asked, looking at Rafa and then Willow.
“We’ll pass. We’re leaving for Manila again tomorrow,” Willow said as she sipped her coffee.
Baron’s brows furrowed. “So you lot won’t be going to Davao? I thought we were all to canvass the potential museums?” he asked, sounding confused.
Willow shrugged and shook her head. “We’re not going to Davao anymore, and we’ve already settled on a place for our art show. Theola will coordinate with you guys, prolly when she wakes up.” She yawned.
Baron nodded. “I see,” he mumbled.
Rafa excused himself for a moment. “I’ll just check if Sal is awake.” He smiled and said goodbye to Baron. He realized he and Willow needed some privacy.
Rafa returned to their bedroom. But Sal wasn’t in bed. He took a few paces forward and saw her on the wooden veranda looking out at the ocean.
The room, like the entire villa, was decorated with neutral colors and a Japandi motif; hence the floor to ceiling glass sliding doors and wrap-around wooden veranda.
If you opened the sliding glass doors and stepped off the veranda, the soft embrace of fine white sand would meet your toes with a view of lapping waves on the shoreline just a few feet away.
He opened the sliding door. “Hey, did you sleep well?” he asked, sitting on the wooden platform beside her before taking her hand.
“After last night? Of course I did.” She placed her head gently on his shoulder. “I read the appraiser’s report. The grimoire is really something, Rafa. Thank you.”
“If she can determine exactly how old it is, she estimates it to be worth two million or more. Once the world knows about it, we can use it to attract more people to your art show. The crowd turnout alone would help you win.”
Sal bit her lip, looking apprehensive. “Yes, with the grimoire, we have a shot. We have to win this…” Sal muttered. “There’s no litigating ourselves out of this now that we know Harmon is really Claire’s brother.”
“We will win. And even if we don’t, we’ll manage it,” he replied.
The time they spent away from each other only made him feel misplaced without her.
He felt whole and capable now that she had put her head on his shoulder and was within his reach.
This was where he should be. Consoling his love and reminding her that all would be fine.
“Come what may?” she asked, like she always did.
“Come what may,” he responded.
A knock came through, followed by the sound of the sliding door. “Hey.” Willow peeked through the narrow opening, looking as if she was concerned she had interrupted them. “Theola is up. Let’s have some breakfast. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Is Baron still there?” Rafa asked.
“Harmon’s assistant?” Sal asked, looking over at Willow, sounding confused.
Willow let out a shy grin and blushed. “He just left. Now, come on,” she coaxed as she pushed open the sliding door. “I’ll tell you guys over breakfast.”
***
Moments later, and after gobbling down a serving of Willow’s pancakes at the breakfast table, Rafa brought them up to speed with everything that had happened in St. Stephenshire.
“Sal sent me pictures of the heritage town in Taal. It’s perfect,” he said, wiping his mouth.
“Were you really not going to tell Harmon?”
Theola, whom Rafa had met just that morning, was quick to respond. “We were supposed to tell him after Cebu.”
“Yeah, but that plan went to hell, thanks to Willow,” Sal said with a tight smile.
Willow grimaced. “Sorry, guys, my tongue slipped with Baron.”
Rafa chuckled. “That’s not the only thing you did with him. But good for you. He seems like a decent guy.”
Willow rolled her eyes and flashed Rafa a playful smirk. “Ever the romantic, Rafa,” she said in a playful tone while taking a bite of pancake. “Just because I spent the night with him doesn’t mean I wanna date him.”
Rafa just shrugged.
“So…the grimoire is magical?” Willow asked, changing the topic but looking intrigued.
“I don’t know—but it is priceless. We’ll have it on display at the art show,” Rafa said with a raised brow. He noticed Sal was quieter than usual. He turned to her while Willow and Theola continued chatting about the grimoire. “Are you all right?”
Sal turned to him, looking as if his voice had removed her from a sudden daze. “Hmm?” she asked.
“I’m just wondering if you’re all right?” he repeated, placing his hand on hers.
Sal squeezed his hand. “I’m okay, just thinking about a lot of stuff…” she said, taking a deep breath with her chin down.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked in a tone that said, I can take whatever it is you’ll tell me.
Sal offered a soft grin and kissed him tenderly. “I’ll tell you later.”
Rafa’s heart melted when her lips touched his. He squeezed her hand in response.
“You guys are so sweet,” Theola cooed, prompting Rafa to feel uneasy.
“You’ll get used to it,” Willow chuckled. “By the way, we have our flight back to Manila tomorrow. What do you guys wanna do for our last day here? And no more museums, please. No offense, Sal,” she said, raising her hands in the air as though to call a ceasefire.
Sal chortled. “None taken, I’m burned out myself. How about we just beach bum?”
“That sounds perfect,” Theola agreed with a hand on her chin as she practically swooned at the suggestion.
Spending the rest of the day lounging at the beach with Sal and company didn’t feel like such a bad idea. They’d have time for leisure before diving straight into preparing for the art show.
“How about we grill some fish for lunch?” Theola suggested.
“A cookout would be fun!” Willow agreed, standing up and clearing up the table.
Rafa looked at Sal and she agreed, “We’ll need to shop for groceries, though,” Sal said, as she moved all the scraped plates to the sink and helped Willow wash it.
Theola was busy fiddling with her phone when she replied, “I’ve got that covered. Willow wants to see the wet market anyway.” Theola walked over to Sal and offered to take the plates she was wiping. “Sal, I know you’re super tired. Just take a breather for today.”
Rafa walked to the living room and hoisted his coffee cup to his lips. “I’ll prep the beachfront for the cookout,” he said between sips.
It was decided then. They’d have a delicious cookout by the beach until their skin browned and the sun set, their worries vanishing just for that day.
***
Theola and Willow prepped themselves for the fish market run. “We’ll just be at the market!” Theola called out. “If you need anything, just call me!”
When they had gone, Sal and Rafa agreed to lounge on the small strip of beach in front of their villa.
Rafa quickly changed into his blue board shorts and prepared the beach towels on the beach chairs.
He brought some sparkling juice and set it aside in the cooler.
The owners thoughtfully placed a large parasol with loungers for their guests.
“Rafa?” Sal called from the veranda.
Rafa’s gaze turned toward her curvy frame, clad in a black bikini and flip-flops. She strolled toward him. His insides burned at the sight of her. As if the sun burning his skin wasn’t enough.
“You’re getting burned. You need sunblock,” she said, pulling out a tube from a canvas tote bag.
Under the shade of the parasol, they helped each other put on sunscreen.
Her hands were cool and gentle as she massaged the lotion on his shoulders and down his back.
The tingling sensation of her hands on his lower back brought him into a stupor; he could no longer control himself if she continued.
He held one of her wrists softly and turned to face her.
“Thanks, I can do the rest myself. Now your turn,” he whispered.
Sal obliged, sitting on the edge of the lounger.
Rafa massaged a generous amount onto his palms before touching her ivory skin.
He placed a hand on her nape, massaging slowly down to her shoulders.
He grounded himself as his fingers lightly lifted the straps of her bikini so he wouldn’t get lotion on them.
Then he massaged the sunblock down to the small of her back.
His body felt tense at the feel of her skin against his hands.
Moving his hands to her thighs, he then slid them up her torso, pausing briefly before withdrawing, as if seeking her consent.
He waited for a groan, a sigh, any hint of consent.
He could feel his pulse travel through his body as his hands worked their way to her décolletage.
Her head collapsed back and rested on his shoulder.
She let out a soft sigh into his ear as she opened up like a summer blossom being carried away by a strong wind.
On cue, Rafa’s hands moved to her core and lingered there, his fingers controlling the ebb and flow of her arched and open body.
He heard her gasp and exhale, but he wouldn’t stop unless she told him to.
As his fingers rhythmically traced the most delicate parts of her, her breathing hitched, and her body shook from the pulses of pleasure.
He continued following her body’s rhythm until she collapsed into his arms, and a warmth enveloped his palm.
This was what total surrender felt like.
Her bikini straps had slipped off, luxuriously exposing her shoulders, gleaming with sweat.
He turned to kiss her neck and brought his lips to her ear.
“We’re not done yet,” he nearly growled.
A shiver ran through her, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
Good, that wasn’t the only thing he could do to her skin.
He hoisted her into his arms and carried her through the short distance to their room.
He placed her on the bed and watched her, breathless and willing, and decided that this time he wouldn’t be so gentle.
Time seemed to slip by. Before they knew it, both of them were panting steadily beside each other on the king-sized bed.
They were a tumble of sweat, sunblock, and sand between the sheets.
Rafa could feel his heart slowly floating back into its normal rhythm when Sal placed a soft hand on his chest.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she breathed.
“Me too,” he said, his eyes slowly drifting shut. Damn, the jet lag was getting to him.
Sal kissed him on the cheek. “You should rest. We have an early flight tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll take a shower.”
Rafa was close to sleeping when a thought from earlier surfaced. “Hey, what was it you wanted to tell me?” he mumbled, nearly half-asleep.
Sal looked over her shoulder. “I’ll tell you later. Get some sleep,” she said, disappearing into the bathroom.
Before long, Rafa was lost in a deep slumber, the world fading away.