“It’s one of my favorite cities.”
I drop the menu and lean forward on the table. “It is? Will you tell me about it?”
Hanging on to every word, I imagine myself there when he describes the mountains, hiking, and a town as unique as Bora Bora. My dad never talks about the States, but I’ve looked up pictures of Aspen. Although, hearing Ryker talk about it, there’s life in his words rather than just pictures.
“I like your necklace.”
I run my fingers over the tiny opal bead that always hangs from my neck. “Thanks.” The only thing my mom ever gave me. I’ve tried to take it off, but the guilt attached to it always changes my mind. She might have left me, and I don’t know why, but she wanted me to have it. In a way, it makes me feel closer to a woman I don’t remember.
The afternoon slips away from us. He’s easy to talk to. I catch myself telling him things no one knows except for Dante. Like when I dressed up like Cyndi Lauper and put on a concert for my dad and Dante.
Yeah, I regretted that word vomit.
“So, you’re a big eighties music fan?” he asks with humor in his voice. “‘Cause I have a vague memory of waking up to someone singing a song of hers.” I cover my flushed face with my hand. So much for him not hearing my horrible voice.
“Were you even asleep?” I choke out. For someone dead to the world, he sure does remember a lot about me being there. His deep laugh fills the room. People glance our way and he bites his lip to stop, lowering his face. When he lifts back up, mischief dances in his eyes. He wasn’t asleep at all. “I can’t believe you laid there naked. What exactly were you expecting?”
He shrugs. “Wasn’t expecting anything. I was hungover and wasn’t ready to get up yet.”
“You could have told me to come back later.”
Nodding, he says, “I could have. But what fun would that have been?”
“Don’t give me a reason to start not liking you. I thought you were different from the other assholes who come here.”
He leans across the table, his eyes hardening. “Whiskey, don’t confuse being nice with being a man with a dick. We all want the same thing, some of us just go about it differently.”
At least he’s honest. I cross my arms in front of me on the table and lean in too. Our faces inches apart, I say, “Are you saying you’re being nice because you’re expecting something from me?”
I swallow at the intensity in his eyes. “No. I’m being nice because… I’m a nice guy. I hired you with a stipulation of no shagging, so there’re no expectations other than you showing me the island. But I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not attracted to you.”
I would have rather he lied. It’d be easier for me to ignore the draw I feel knowing he didn’t have the same attraction.
Someone steps up to the table, breaking the trance I'd been in. “Can I get you two anything else?” I sit back and peek up at Reva, smiling from ear to ear. She’s thinking she has something to tell Dante. Except, there’s nothing to tell. And even if there was, Dante and I are just friends.
“Nope, we’re all done here,” I answer without asking Ryker if he’s ready to go. As we fight over who’s paying, I remind him he paid for a tour and this is part of the tour.
When we’re walking out, he rasps, “You have a habit of ending things abruptly.”
I wish that had always been the case. It would’ve saved me a lot of heartache. Not giving in to the attractive foreigners in hopes he’ll fall in love with me and take me with him. I internally groan. How foolish and naïve I was. But that’s not me anymore.
“Where to now?” he asks, jumping in the Jeep.
“Feel like going swimming?”
“Oh!”
Ryker’s voice startles me as I resurface. I squeeze water from my hair as I stare at him, confused. His enormous hand covers his eyes. Wow. I hold up my hand, comparing it to his from a distance. Dante always joked that a man’s hand represents how big his dick is. I never took much stock in that theory until now. Seems he was right.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, forcing myself to stop thinking of his well-endowed manly parts.
“You… uh…” He points at me with his other hand, keeping his eyes covered. “Wardrobe malfunction.”
What is he talking about? I glance down and notice my left breast is out in the open, my bathing suit pushed to the side. This man is not modest, so it surprises me how he’s acting. It’s not like he hasn’t been staring at them the entire time. I pull the triangle fabric back over.
“Ryker, you act like you’ve never seen a breast before.”
His lips curl up under his hand. “Unlike you, I’m trying to be respectful.”
I huff. “When have I not been respect—” I pinch my lips together, the memory of naked Ryker jogging my memory. He chuckles, removing his hand. His eyes sparkle under the cascade of droplets of water running down his tan rugged face. “All right, let’s talk about that day one more time since you can’t seem to let it go. I was doing my duty as an employee to make sure you were alive. There were liquor bottles everywhere, and you looked dead.”
His face brightens at the suggestion. “Whiskey, dead men don’t have morning wood.”
I blink. Morning wood?
“Erection. Boner. Hard dick—”
Oh, that.
“Okay. I get it,” I snicker, holding up my palm for him to stop. “You’re right. It caught me off guard and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Sorry for invading your privacy.” It’s the only excuse I can think of.
“No need to be sorry. I’m irresistible.”
I want to tell him he’s not.
I want to tell him he’s full of misplaced self-esteem.
I want to tell him he does nothing for me.
But I can’t.
And he knows it.
Instead, I dip down and swim back to the beach. He stays swimming laps. Stretching my legs out in the soft white sand, I lounge back on my elbows and watch him. Large muscular arms slice through the water in an effortless stroke. The sun looks as if it is floating on the water off in the distance, reminding me that our day is almost over. A gentle melancholy sweeps over me, then dissipates with a heavy breath.
Don’t do this.
I demand my heart to stop beating for the foreigner. This isn’t his prison, it’s his escape from reality. And I’m not anything but an island girl being paid to hang out with him. A thick dose of perspective makes me swallow back my emotions. Bringing my legs under me, I push up to my feet as he treads out of the water. Everything about his body is perfection. Whatever he does, it includes a heavy dose of exercise.
“You have a little sand on you.”
I glance down my body and chuckle. “That’s like saying I’m breathing air.” He steps in close to me, stealing that air.
“How about I help you get it off,” he rasps.
Despite my entire being yelling yes, I force my feet to take a couple steps backward. “That would be a no.”
“Are you sure?” Without waiting for an answer, he whooshes me up into his arms and I squeal as he runs with me back into the water, effortlessly. When he’s waist deep, the water covering my butt, he sinks both of us under. I swim out of his arms, putting at least an arm’s length between us before surfacing.