Page 51 of Grand Escape

I glanced at Sophia, who looked elegant in a black bikini and a baseball cap emblazoned with a golf brand. Her gold bangles sparkled in the sun, shimmering off Chelsea’s cheesy swimsuit.

“What happened?” Adam asked his brother.

Cal, who had trailed behind, sported a frown, clearly not wanting to upset his brother. “Bad storms in the city and the airports are shut down. Nothing’s flying in or out of LaGuardia or JFK today.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Cal shook his head.

Sophia looked from brother to brother, licking her perfectly painted red lips, taking in their interaction. “So, a round of shots?”

If she weren’t friends with Chelsea, I might like her, but right now I felt like Cinderella’s stepsister. Except I was in a sweaty work polo and cutoffs rather than a dusty housedress, and those two were ready to pose for a swimwear ad on Instagram.

“Shots,” Cal said firmly. “Good idea.”

“Then maybe Chelsea and I can go to the spa?” Sophia said. “Get out of everyone’s hair for a bit.”

Hmm. Maybe she wasn’t as clueless as her friend. I found myself feeling less stabby when it came to Sophia.

“Tell me, what’s your best poison?” Cal directed his question to me, but Adam cut in.

“Her name is Rylan, and you don’t have to pretend you’re in a New York City club, Cal. No reason to act like a big shot. Just ask Ry for what you want.”

Cal nodded. “I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, clearly trying to right his wrong for his brother. “Rylan, how about a round of shots, and one for you too? Whatever you feel like making.”

Rather than answer, I busied myself with the lemons I’d brought up from the kitchen earlier. Apparently, this was destined to be one of those mornings I was going to toss back a lemon drop on the job.

Adam

“I’m just finishing up for the day. The pool bar is still open,” Rylan said as I sat down, not bothering to look up.

“I didn’t come to drink. Pretty sure we’ve had enough of that.”

After two rounds of shots, both of which Rylan had participated in, I switched to beer. Cal talked me into one of those buckets filled with shiny glass bottles after he rented a cabana on the edge of the beach.

The women did go to the spa and spent plenty of Cal’s money, while he and I sat in the shade and drank. We laughed over how mad Becca would have been at him for this stunt, and for about five minutes, we’d actually gotten real with each other.

“Listen,” I said to Rylan, taking a chance. “I’m an ass. I don’t deserve for you to listen to me, but hear me out.”

She didn’t respond, but she did look at me with softness in her eyes and give me time to gather my thoughts before I spoke.

“I admit I need time to move on from the guilt. Cal and I talked about it today, and neither of us could have done anything differently. We were there for Becca, and Mom fought for her care nonstop. To be honest, she didn’t give off a lot of warning signs, which makes us believe she was serious in her attempt. It wasn’t a cry for help. That’s what my mom says. Becca saw it as a solution, but it wasn’t.”

I took a deep breath and studied Rylan as she leaned into the back counter, a compassionate mask on her face.

“There was nothing more we could have done. My mom did her damn best—which I keep saying—but Becs was her own worst enemy, refusing meds and skipping therapy, and deciding our lives would be easier without her. Our lives aren’t better, but I do think Becca wouldn’t want any of us to stop living.”

Rylan nodded, taking it all in.

It wasn’t an excuse but an admission of my feelings, the first time I’d voiced them out loud. My mom’s shrink had tried unsuccessfully to get me to talk for months, and here I was, baring my heart to a woman I barely knew.

Much like I’d told Cal earlier, this was the first time I’d enjoyed a woman in this way—wanting to be together, spend time talking and sharing life. Rylan had made me want to be a better man, a healthy man who was able to shed his burdens.

When Cal accused me of falling for Rylan earlier in the day, I’d sloughed it off, making sure he knew a long-term relationship with her wasn’t in the cards. Rylan had a lot of roadblocks set up.

It was only when Cal decided to see the concierge, hoping to arrange a turtle farm tour in the morning and then flights for the women, that I decided to check on Rylan. I stand corrected—I felt like I needed to see Rylan in order to breathe. There was so much to say, more to explain, but I wasn’t sure any of it mattered.

Now, Rylan slid a water in front of me, and I whispered, “Thanks for listening.”

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