How to Honeymoon Alone

“Yeah, and absolutely not.”

“No falling off boats,” he says, “and no charming strangers left and right?”

“This is my vacation self,” I say. “I can promise you that I’m decidedly less social back home. And a lot more stable on my feet.”

“Your vacation self,” he repeats.

“Yes. Like, I packed a sun hat and a colorful maxi dress for this trip that I’d never wear at home. That’s part of my vacation identity.” I brush his shoulder with my own. “Come on, Phillip. What’s yours?”

“Well, I forgot my sun hat at home,” he says evenly. “My maxi dress, too.”

I chuckle. “What a shame.”

“Very. I can definitely rock a polka dot.” Then, he shakes his head and lifts his coffee cup to his lips. “Fuck, that was stupid.”

I chuckle. “Yes, but I appreciate it.”

“That’s my vacation self,” he says. “I’m doing a shit ton of things I never had any intention to.”

“Enjoying yourself is a great vacation goal for you.” I touch my cup to his. “Mine is to challenge myself.”

He lifts a dark eyebrow. “Challenge yourself, huh?”

“Yes. I have to start living again, you know? After my wedding got called off, and the relationship imploded, well…” I shake my head. “It took a toll. But even though I love sitting at home in my pajamas most evenings and watching old movies, I can’t only do that.”

“Hmm,” he says. And then, says nothing more at all.

I lean back with my hands on the cool sand. Maybe it’s the days we’ve spent together, or maybe it’s the rum. But I can almost feel how he’s thinking.

I tap his foot with mine. “Say it.”

“How do you know I was about to say anything at all?”

“I just do.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I was just thinking that you wouldn’t like me if we’d met Stateside.”

“Do you know what? I find that very hard to believe.”

“It’s the truth,” he says.

“Well, you wouldn’t look at me twice if we met back home, so I guess we’re even.”

His brow furrows. “What does that mean?”

I take a long sip of my drink. It tastes like coffee set on fire.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “But I guess that means it’s a good thing we met in Barbados, then. As our vacation selves.”

“Mm-hmm. Although I can imagine-you’re cold,” he says, eyes on my arms. Goosebumps race across my skin.

“Just a bit. It’s okay.”

He sets down his cup in the sand and shrugs out of his thin jacket. I catch a sliver of muscled back as his T-shirt rides up a bit.

“Here,” he says.

My fingers dig into the soft material, warm from his body heat. “Won’t you be cold?”

“No. I’m my vacation self,” he says and rests an arm behind us. “And my vacation self is excellent at homeostasis.”

I stare at him.RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say. “Just that you’re very funny. You just don’t let on.”

He snorts. “Honor my sacrifice and put on the jacket, Eden.”

I wrap it around myself. It smells like him, like soap and warm skin, and man. I wonder why men’s scents are often described in overwrought sentences, like a dewy morning or musky pine, when that’s never what they smell like. They smell so much better.

“Something wrong with it?”

I stop sniffing. “No. It’s warm. And, um, very nice fabric.”

“Good,” he says. There’s amusement in his voice. “So, we could be here all night then, waiting for the turtles to emerge?”

“Technically yes, I think. But that’s a small sacrifice.”

“Turtles hatched without our involvement for centuries,” he says. “I’m sure they’ll keep hatching during the next century, too.”

“Well, now there are all kinds of things threatening them, most put there by humans. We’re the biggest threat of them all.”

He raises an eyebrow, and the dimple is back. “That sounds a bit narcissistic. We’re not the greatest species, you know.”

“I know that, which is why we’re here to protect them. Come on, you’re just being a contrarian for the heck of it.” I wrap my hand around his wrist that’s resting on his knee. His skin is hot and firm to the touch. He’s all bone and muscle. “Tell me you’re not having fun.”

“Sitting on a sandy beach at midnight,” he says. But his eyes have softened around the corners.

My hand stays on his wrist. “Yeah. You could be doing worse things right now. Think of all the legal paperwork you could be filling out at work.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“All the gavels you could be using.”

“I’m not a judge, Eden.”

“All the cases you could be arguing in court. Isn’t this so much better?”