Page 72 of The Sexy Ex's Brother
“It is.”
Her fingers find the edge of my sweater, the huge rock on her finger glinting faintly in the cabin light. “And the villa?”
“Private. Oceanfront. No neighbors.”
She hums. “Sounds dangerous.”
“Only if you want it to be.”
She lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. “I do.”
And I don’t think I’ve ever loved her more than I do in that exact moment, barefoot, wine-soft, and still brave enough to choose me again.
About two and a half hours into the flight, I find myself watching her more than the sky. She’s curled against me, skin warm through her top, one hand loosely laced with mine, the other tracing idle patterns against my thigh. Her laughter from earlier still echoes somewhere in my chest.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. At peace. She’s not performing or guarding or bracing. She’s just here, with me, wrapped in this shared, surreal in-between. The sky outside is a palette of gold and fading blue, and her profile, lit by the dim cabin lights, is so striking it steals my breath. I memorize the curve of her lashes against her cheek, the small crinkle at the bridge of her nose as she sleeps.
Then the captain’s voice crackles softly over the intercom. the captain’s voice crackles softly over the intercom. “Mr. Wilson, Miss, we’ll be beginning our descent shortly. Estimated arrival in Nassau, Bahamas is approximately thirty minutes. Local weather is clear and breezy, eighty-four degrees.”
Ivy jerks upright against my chest, blinking at me like she’s just realized I’ve been hiding a second engagement ring in my pocket. “We’re going to the Bahamas?”
Her voice lifts in something close to a laugh, half incredulous, half giddy.
I nod, grinning. “Surprise.”
She lets out a disbelieving breath, covers her face for a second, and then laughs outright. “I cannot believe you. The Bahamas? I thought you were joking about the warm thing!”
“Never joke about heat. Or islands. Or you in a bikini.”
She swats my chest with the back of her hand, but she’s glowing now. Absolutely glowing.
The cabin murmurs with the change in altitude. Outside, the clouds begin to break, and beneath us, strips of turquoise and deep blue sea come into view, dotted with small green islands. Ivy presses her face to the window like a kid on her first flight.
“Oh my God,” she whispers. “It’s beautiful.”
The plane dips lower, revealing white sand beaches curling like ribbons along the shoreline, and the bright coral rooftops of Nassau sparkling below. I glance at Ivy again, trying to take in her reaction, but it’s more than just awe. Her eyes are wide, glassy, like something sacred just cracked open inside her. She’s not just excited. She’s undone in the best possible way. And it hits me in the chest, sharp and soft all at once, that I did this. I gave her this moment.
We land smoothly on the tarmac at Lynden Pindling International Airport. The sun is still high, the sky a perfect postcard blue. Ivy squeezes my hand as we taxi toward the private terminal, her excitement radiating off her like heat. When the door opens, warm, salty air floods the cabin. Ivy gasps and looks at me like I’ve hung the moon.
“You really weren’t bluffing,” she says, her voice breathless with laughter. She spins once on the tarmac, arms half outstretched, the breeze catching the hem of her shirt and tossing her hair around her face. Then she stops, meets my eyes, and shakes her head like she’s trying to make sense of the moment.
She grips my hand tighter. “I don’t know how you keep doing this, surprising me like I’m the only person in the world.”
I look at her, lit up in the golden light, her joy pouring out in laughter and wide-eyed wonder. And it undoes me. Because I’ve seen her guarded, I’ve seen her furious, I’ve seen her shattered. But this, this uninhibited happiness, it feels like a miracle. Like something sacred I never thought I’d earn. My chest tightens with it, the kind of ache that comes from getting exactly whatyou never believed you could have. I want to bottle this moment and live in it forever.
I step back, letting her go first. “Welcome to your yes.”
She walks down the steps slowly, wind in her hair, sunlight caught in the curve of her smile. I follow, not even pretending to look away. Because this, her, here, happy, is everything I’ve been waiting for. I make a silent vow to never let the weight of our past outweigh the brilliance of this future. Because this isn't just a moment. It's the beginning of all the ones to come.
37
IVY
The air hits me like a dream, salty and warm, thick with sun and promise. I step down from the plane and onto the tarmac, wind curling around my legs, sunlight brushing my cheeks, and I can’t stop smiling.
Jack follows a few steps behind me, and when I glance over my shoulder, it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time, yet also like I’ve known him forever. He’s walking toward me with that easy confidence, the afternoon light catching the gold strands in his hair and the shadow of a smile curving his mouth. And in that moment, I remember everything, the heartbreak, the longing, the risk it took to trust him again. I feel it all rush back, not as pain, but as proof of how far we’ve come. The man I once feared I’d lost is here, whole and mine, and the weight of that realization presses into my chest with something close to awe.
His sleeves are rolled, jaw shadowed with just the right amount of stubble, eyes locked on me like I’m the miracle. And God, he’s devastating. Handsome in that calm, unshakable way that used to drive me crazy. Still does. I’ve never felt so seen. Or so desired. Or so thoroughly ruined by a man just standing in the sun, looking at me like that.
