Page 54 of Grand Escape

I opened the door without even bothering to check what I looked like first. When I got back to my villa after work today, I’d yanked off my work polo and fallen into the chair, then had a good cry in my sport top and cutoffs. I’d put on a brave face in public all day, and here in my own space, I deserved a meltdown.

“Ry, please don’t cry,” Adam said as he walked through the door, running his palm over his forehead.

“I’m not,” I said, firming my words.

“Okay,” he said hesitantly, but I could tell he was just appeasing me.

Slipping away, I looked in the mirror. Sure enough, my eyes were red and rimmed with a slight ring of mascara.

“Look, Adam,” I said, trying to be brave. “We had a good time. I even met your brother and like him, and I like Sophia too. Time’s up for us, though.”

Sunlight streamed in through the window, highlighting Adam’s tan. He would go home and brag about his fun time in the Caymans, but when he was elbow deep in money and work, I’d be forgotten before his tan even faded.

“I can see the thoughts racing through your mind.” His voice came out hoarse, much like it was the night we met.

Feeling vulnerable and exposed, I crossed my arms over my body, protecting my heart. He stepped close and pulled me into his arms.

“Don’t you have to meet Cal and Sophia for drinks?” I said into his chest.

Adam shook his head. “No. I’m right where I want to be.”

He didn’t mention Chelsea leaving that afternoon, her tail between her legs, begging him to call her when he came to New York. But I’d witnessed the whole scene as it took place near the pool as I was coming back from the bathroom. I hadn’t wanted to see or hear any of it, but it was impossible to miss with the spectacle she was making.

“Sophia and Cal are having dinner, just the two of them,” Adam said softly, “and I’m here to be with you.”

I sniffed back a fresh batch of tears. I felt like Adam and I had lived a lifetime together in one week. I wasn’t going to express that, but it certainly felt like we were closer than two people should be after only knowing each other a handful of days.

His lips grazed the top of my head. “There’s this thing, it’s called a smartphone, and Cal tells me I have several weeks’ vacation owed to me. I’ve pretty much worked for three years straight.”

Leaning back, I gaped at him. “No. Tomorrow, we go back to our lives as we know them. Promise me?”

“Ry—”

“You go live your life, the way your sister would want you to. Work, play, have fun, be with Cal, but don’t dwell on this. I’m here, and this is where I’ve made my life. I know it feels like a manufactured existence in a hotel room,” I said, quoting my dad from the early days of my being here, “but it’s not.”

“Don’t say that. Who told you that?”

Adam gathered me in his arms and he sat us down in the chair, tucking me into his lap. He smelled like ... well, like Adam. I wasn’t even sure what the scent was. Big money? Big city? For sure, it wasn’t the islands.

As I lay my head on his shoulder, sniffing at his cotton polo and wanting to bottle whatever that scent might be, he said, “This isn’t manufactured, Ry. This is freedom, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I lived a manufactured life when Becca died, going through the motions, and now I’m living again. Really living. You set me free.”

Swallowing every ounce of my pride, I said, “No. It was the ocean air and you. Please don’t say I did anything. It will make this too hard.”

When he started to argue, I held a finger to his lips.

“Huh-uh. If you want tonight, we can have tonight, but let’s not keep disagreeing. It’s wasting valuable time,” I whispered.

His mouth was on mine as I turned in his lap, straddling him, my front pressed to his. I ground down on his length, and a loud moan came from him.

Feelings swirled and hung heavy in the room like a cloud of humidity. Any minute, all the emotions could burst and rain down on us, but we took our chances, kissing like we were running out of time. And we were. As of tomorrow, I’d be behind a bar, and Adam would be behind a desk, or on a golf cart, or out with someone like Chelsea.

“Ry ...” He broke our kiss and leaned back, his eyes meeting mine. “This has been the most incredible week. I didn’t know I could feel like this. So alive,” he murmured.

I ran my palm around the back of his neck. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I tried to tug him close, wanting our lips to meet again. It was easier when we didn’t talk. I didn’t hurt and ache all over then.

“I don’t want to just screw on the chair,” he said. “Let’s go to dinner, have fun. Somewhere away from here.”

Being stubborn, I said, “You don’t have to wine and dine me.”

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