Willow stepped back, her mind already racing. “We’re going away?”
“We are.”
“I need more details,” she squealed, pulling her closet open. She’d left her clothes in the spare room as Luke’s closet was already full. “Where? How long? What are we doing? Like, city break or beach? I need—”
“To relax,” he said, grabbing her again and pressing his lips to hers.
She let him, before pushing him away. “Luke,” she scolded. “We’re wasting precious minutes. Details.”
“Think boutique spa hotel right on the coast overlooking the water. Spain. Access to a beach. Pretty, like you.”
His compliment warmed her. “Ahh. Thank you. It’s so unexpected and I’m totally excited. I’m going to need a bag for the equipment.” She hurried around the other side of the bed and pulled her camera bag from beneath it. “Or maybe I should try to travel light. But then I could edit on the plane home and perhaps at night.”
“Will,” Luke said firmly. “I didn’t book this to stress you out or for you to spend three days working. Take some time off with me. Take photos and film if you must. But let’s just leave my music and your like-and-subscribes behind, yeah?”
It shouldn’t have been such a relief to hear that. The idea that she could just go and enjoy the trip. Yet, leaving her laptop behind made her feel itchy. Uncomfortable. “But what if I need access to something to do with Dad?”
“We call Iz, who has a key to my apartment, and she points her phone at the screen, and you walk her through how to send it.”
Maybe she could live with that.
“Twenty-eight minutes, flower, until Matt pulls up outside. I need to go pack, myself. Let me know if you need any help, okay?”
“Okay,” she said breathlessly. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. I look forward to seeing you in a bikini.”
And he winked as he left the room.
14
“Oh my God. Real, hot sunshine,” Willow said, tilting her head to the sun. “I swear I can feel my skin slurping it in.”
She stood leaning against the balcony of their hotel room at the Hospes Maricel hotel overlooking the Mediterranean, her wrap-around skirt fluttering gently in the breeze, as did her hair in its messy bun. The vibrant turquoise hue of the water, as sparkling as it was, paled in comparison next to her.
When the band had talked to him that morning, the only thing he could think of was space.
Sunshine.
Fresh air.
Room to breathe.
He’d gotten paid. Enough to cover the bills and repayments, with a little extra. And his first thought was a trip for just the two of them. Break free of the heaviness and panic he’d felt that morning.
Luke wasn’t sure why making her happy felt so damn good, but it did. Her face had lit up as she packed, then repacked, then packed again. And she’d made him laugh when she’d mocked his own packing. Although two pairs of board shorts, a couple of pairs of jeans, and a handful of clean T-shirts had seemed perfectly adequate to him, she’d insisted on perusing his wardrobe five minutes before they left, pulling out a pair of black denim shorts he’d forgotten about and a couple of shirts he rarely wore. Whatever—it had made her happy to photograph their shit in the case.
It still baffled him that people were interested in video footage of their feet walking the lino’d floors of Manchester Airport, but she’d promised him she wouldn’t post anything about their trip until they were home.
And that was enough. That he got to share it with her, first, before she shared it with the rest of the world. It was a compromise he was learning to live with.
He walked over the balcony and placed his hands just beneath the bump of her stomach. He’d read somewhere it felt good when a guy took the weight of the bump, and even though Willow’s was still small, he hoped it felt as good to her as it did to him.
Holding his son and holding her in his arms was better than the sunshine.
He slid his nose against the side of her neck, trying not to relive the words he’d overheard on her call. When he’d been inspired to book the trip, he’d been excited to tell her all about it. He’d known straight away she was on a chatting with Riley. But what he’d heard had shook him.
It’s costing me a lot to be here. And I’m having a baby. When I get back, I’m going to have to buy my own house because the legal stuff with Dad may not be resolved.
When she got back. Because, in her mind, it was still a done deal. The idea he was up against a ticking clock scared him.
“It’s stunning,” she said, leaning her head back against his shoulder. “The way the hotel appears to have been created out of the cliff straight into the water.” The waves rushed up against the rocks, tossing the scent of saline in the air.
“Yeah.” He kissed her, unable to resist the long slope of her neck. They’d come here for three days to get away from stress, not bring it with him. He buried his thoughts about her leaving and focused on making the most of their time together. “Want to get changed and go sit out by the pool?”
Or stay in and check out whether the large bed clad in soft white bedding was as comfortable as it looked? He’d seen the way she’d run her fingertips over the crisp white sheets.
“Can we go for a walk? I’ve never visited Mallorca before.”
Right. Totally different kind of exercise. “How about we walk into Cala Major and grab a snack, then head back here for dinner? It’s about two kilometres, but we can always get a cab back, and it’s a coastal path most of the way.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Luke threw her camera equipment over his shoulder and led her from the room.
“I need a wide-brimmed hat,” Willow said as she paused to take photographs of the harbour littered with small boats and yachts. “I didn’t think to bring any of my own.”
“You see one as we’re walking, and we’ll grab one.” He watched as she worked. How she thought about the framing and considered shadow and light. “You’re a really good photographer.”
Her smile hit him right in his solar plexus.
“Thanks.”
When she’d finished, he took the camera from her and tossed the strap over his own shoulder. “Have you ever thought about pursuing photography outside of this? Like, setting up a studio?”
He held her firmly as they clambered over some uneven rocks. “I think there’s a bit more to being a good photographer than taking good photos.”
Luke laughed. “I can’t think of a single thing more important about being a photographer than being able to take good photos.”
Willow laughed. “You know what I mean. I have so much to learn about exposure and editing. That kind of thing.”
“Do you want to do what you’re doing now forever?”
Willow sighed and looked out over the water. “I thought I did. But I think I’d like to launch a lifestyle brand. Curate great products. Use the platform I have now to advertise them in an organic way, while I still have so much reach. I think I might look into it when this thing with Dad is resolved.”
Her fingers tightened around his, and he tugged her to his side gently. “Where is that at right now?”