Waking up early with Nathan and renting boards to surf the southside of the island. Midnight walks on the beach with Preston. Sharing slushies on the museum steps. Racing the golf carts around the property. More freaky sex than a girl can handle. It would be perfect if the ticking clock I refused to think about wasn’t hanging over our heads. As well as—
I heard a screech behind me.
Carter disappeared through the door, stepping onto the terrace now that I had left.
It would be perfect if not for the gaping wound Mal and I both dealt Carter Knight that day. I wished every day for his forgiveness, all the while knowing I wasn’t worthy of it.
My phone went off. Inching closer, I watched the breakfasting friends as I pulled it out.
“I’m on my way up, Z.”
“Z? Who is this Z?”
Terror pierced my heart, pumping biting cold through my veins.
“Mal.”
“Hello, Arabella. Where are you?”
He asked the question so casually. Like he had reasonable expectation of receiving the answer.
“My name is Belle,” I snapped.
Mal continued like I hadn’t spoken. “You haven’t been home in weeks. Did those people send you somewhere? Abroad? Are you in England with that bitch’s family?”
“Why in the fuck would I tell you? When will you get it through your head, I hate you!” In a breath, I was screaming. “You’ve ruined my life! Hurt the people I care about! Tinged every second of every day with fear and suspicion! I will never want to be with you, you violent thug—!”
“Enough!” His bellow knocked me physically against the wall. “I will find you! Wherever you go, you can’t hide from—”
I threw the phone with all my strength. It sailed past Carter’s head as he rushed inside, flanked by Preston and Nathan. My knees gave out, dropping me hard on my backside.
“Belle?” Preston and Nathan knelt beside me. “What happened?”
“It was him,” I croaked. “He called.”
“Does he know where you are?” Nathan whipped his head around like he thought Mal would come around the corner. A paranoia we now shared.
I shook my head.
“It’ll be okay, Belle.” Preston hugged me tight. “He won’t come near you ever again. I promise.”
Preston carried me up to his room. He laid me down on his silk sheets and tucked me under his arm. Carter watched from the doorway as Nathan climbed in beside me. He lifted the sheets, tucking us in, and when they fell, Carter was gone.
NATHAN
“We don’t have to do this.”
Belle and I walked hand in hand across the green.
“It’s not too late to pack it up and head back to the villa,” I said.
“And let Mal overshadow another day of my life? I want to be here. With you. Like this. Until someone catches us.” She kissed the back of my knuckles. “How is the search for a wife going?”
“Do you really want to talk about this?”
Thick, dense trees surrounded, blanketing us in peace and solitude. We rode our cart over the green, leaving behind the dutiful couples beginning in order, and those who skipped the golf and went straight to the club café.
“I really want a distraction from Mal,” she replied, “and to know I’m not getting in the way of you making a better life for you and your mom. Every time I think of him, I’m reminded of why it’s so important.”
Grasping the back of her neck, I captured her lips in a rough kiss. Our tongues clashed, battling instead of dancing, and hungry moans poured from her as I ground our middles together. “You could never be in the way,” I said after we broke apart. “I am searching for someone, Belle. Talking with a few girls about what it would mean, but I respect you enough not to give the daily play-by-play of my mission to marry another woman.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Or maybe I shouldn’t. Be more of an inconsiderate jerk, baby. Then it won’t hurt so much when this summer is over.”
“You’ll have to take me out back and shoot me if you want to prevent the pain.” Our words were out of sync with the tender rubbing of our noses. The hands seeking soft flesh under our shirts and past our belts. “It’s going to hurt, but it doesn’t hurt right now.”
It hadn’t hurt for the last three weeks.
My grandfather was still the greatest douche ever born. My mother struggled to remember my name. Half of the people who truly loved me in this world were gone. Pain was a constant companion. But my designated drinking buddy that hadn’t made time for me in a while. For the last three weeks, I hadn’t touched a drop.
I pecked Belle’s cute, button nose. “If it’s a distraction you’re after, I have another idea.”
“Me kicking your butt at golf?”
“Butts are involved, but golf isn’t.”
That naughty, impish smile returned. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
“Come with me.”
I raced her to the golf cart, hopping in and zipping off, rattling clubs and all. Belle’s laugh was high and clear. She squealed as we raced to where, she didn’t know. Belle was just happy to be with me.
And I’m supposed to walk off this island with someone else? When someone this beautiful, smart, and balls-achingly tempting can turn her whole day around just at the prospect of being with me.
I had our destination in mind. The golf course and country club shared this patch of island with the least populated part of the cove: the orange grove. We drove our cart to the back fence and abandoned it. Belle shrieked as she tipped over the metal, landing with a thump.
“Will we get in trouble if we’re caught?”
“What are they going to do? Call our mommies?” I replied. “We’re not fruit thieves. No harm done if we take a walk around.”
I hopped over to join her. Belle took off running immediately.
“You didn’t bring me here for a walk,” she shouted over her shoulder. “If you want some, you better come get it!”
Oh, I’m going to get it.
The salty-sweet mist of the ocean raced ahead of us, whipping through the trees, and shaking the oranges on their branches. It was the kind of perfect day that came a few days a year. Comfortably warm, clear skies, and the feeling in the air like consequences were suspended for the day. You could do anything. Be anyone.
It was the kind of day that came more than a few times—when I was with Belle.
Belle ducked down a row and turned to see if I was still on her tail. Flushed, rosy exertion infused her porcelain cheeks with color. Her eyes danced, catching a trick of light that made them appear almost silver. I put on a burst of speed and lifted her up—mouths connecting before we hit the ground.
Our clothes came off without care. My belt flung up into a tree. Her bra cast aside. I rescued my shirt from her treatment, laid it on the ground, and Belle on top of it. She bit her lip as I slowly drew her thong down to her ankles.
“I should ask again,” she whispered. “What if someone catches us?”
“Someone was too busy staring at my ass to listen to the tour guide. They wait for the coolest part of the day to pick. The rest of the time, they wisely stay inside the air-conditioned processing plant.”