EIGHT

 

Now, Where Did I Put My Knees?

 

Libby

 

 

I’m sitting on a large boulder on the beach, waiting for the sun to start setting while I talk to Alice via FaceTime. Oh, the miracles of modern technology.

I was surprised to get her IM since it’s almost three a.m. in Valcourt, but she was awake with Maisie, who’s cutting a new tooth. Thank God, because if there’s anything I need right now, it’s advice from my bestie.

Maisie finally dropped off on Alice’s lap about ten minutes ago, and the two of them look so cozy curled up in the rocking chair in Maisie’s room that I feel suddenly homesick. It also reminds me how beautifully close I was to having what she has — the perfect life — and now…my future is my worst nightmare: an unknown.

I’ve just told Alice the entire story about last night, ending off with me rushing out the door this afternoon. When my thoughts turn to Reef, my face suddenly feels strangely hot. “What is wrong with me, Alice? I almost kissed a total stranger. I was like a wildly irresponsible, hot-to-trot woman last night! How am I going to explain this to Richard when we get back together?”

“Umm, I wouldn’t worry about it. Honestly.”

“We are getting back together,” I say in a haughty tone.

“Sure, hon, and if you do, you’ll probably want to keep that from him.”

Biting my thumbnail, I say, “But it’s a really bad way to start over, don’t you think? With a big lie?”

“Nothing happened, Lib. You drank too much and wore what is basically the equivalent of a bikini while on the beach. There’s not much of a story there when you really think about it.”

“Oh my God, Alice,” I say, gasping a little. “You’re like an evil genius with the justifying. You don’t do this to Jack, do you?”

“No, of course not. I just meant if you do manage to patch things up with Richard, you probably won’t want to lead with the full disclosure of something that in the end turned out to be nothing.” She yawns, and I feel a pang of guilt for keeping her on the phone at this hour.

“I should let you get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I better. Colby will be up in three hours.”

“Goodnight, Alice.”

“Goodnight, Libs. And seriously, don’t worry about last night. Chalk it up to needing to let loose. You never let your hair down, and you really should. There’s a very fun person inside of you that needs to be let out once in a while, so while you’re there, among strangers, just go for it, okay? Do all the things you normally won’t let yourself. You deserve it.”

“You mean channel my inner Penny? No, thanks. I did that last night and look where I ended up.”

“Okay, so maybe don’t have quite so many drinks next time. But honestly, Libs, you’re not going to turn into your mother if you live it up for once. If anything, you’ll come back more capable of reining in your wild side because you won’t be so exhausted from always staying in control.”

“I think I follow your logic, but I’m still not going to take your advice. I’m happy the way I am. Even if the love of my life left me because I’m boring.” I sigh, my shoulders dropping at the truth. “Oh, God, I am totally dull, aren’t I?”

“Would I hang out with someone boring?”

“I’m your cousin.”

“True, but I also like really you. So does Jack. You’re funny and smart and caring and…you’ve been through some horrid shit. So, just get out there and have some fun.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you,” she says, yawning again. “That’s all I ask.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Stay safe.”

We ring off, and I stare out at the sunset, thinking about Alice’s words. Maybe she’s right and I should let loose for once. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen if I have a little fun? Not ‘drink ‘til you pass out’ fun, but ‘take a walk just outside your comfort zone’ fun. Come to think of it, maybe letting out my wild side would actually be a good thing — maybe if I had done it a little more often instead of trying so hard to stay in control all the time, Richard and I would be married right now.

It’s kind of the perfect place to try it — no one knows me here. Hmmm…actually, that’s not true at all, is it? I’m here for work, and if I blow this, I can kiss that promotion goodbye — and quite possibly my job, too. I better bloody well keep ‘Brazen Breeze’ tucked away where she belongs.

Glancing to my right, I see the silhouette of a man running along the shore. He’s moving quickly, with an obvious sense of determination. Is he running from a cop? Or an angry husband, maybe?

Hmmm…I don’t see anyone chasing him. Maybe he’s running for the sake of running. Strange.

I notice he has quite possibly the most sculpted physique I’ve ever seen. Maybe that’s why he’s running. Wow.

I should probably stop gawking so shamelessly, shouldn’t I? Okay, eyes, look away. He’s getting closer. Seriously eyes. Look away.

Dammit, they aren’t listening. Neck, a little help here?

Oh, but look at those muscly arms and the way his torso is so ripped. Mmm-mmm. Nice.

Wait, is that...? Nooooo!!! It is him — Mr. Not-A-Gigolo.

Scrambling off the rock, I tuck behind it, hoping he hasn’t seen me already. I hold my breath and try to make myself as small as possible, crouching with my head wedged between my knees.

How long should I wait here? He was running pretty fast, so he should pass right about…

“Did you lose something?”

Oh crap. I unfold my head and give him a surprised smile. “Oh, hello. Yes, I…did…” My voice trails off because I really have no ending to that sentence.

Giving me an easy grin, he says, “What’d you lose?”

I stand, trying to look casual. Glancing down, I scramble to think of something reasonably believable that I could have lost. Nuts! Now, my sunscreen-soaked knees and shins are covered in sand. “My knees,” I say with a nod.

“You thought you lost your knees?” he asks, plunking himself down on my boulder.

“Yes,” I answer, bending at the waist to brush the sand off my legs. “It’s all right, though. They’re both exactly where they should be now. Did you notice the sunset this evening?”

“Yes. They only make ‘em like this in the Caribbean. But back to your knees, do you misplace them often?”

Nodding, I say, “Once before. Scariest ten seconds of my life.”

He breaks into a loud laugh, and oh, my, I had no idea that when a perfectly sculpted, shirtless man laughs, his muscles all ripple in a most pleasing way. I stare and bite my bottom lip, momentarily forgetting to be embarrassed about my knees or forlorn about my lost fiancé. Richard. Right. I have to stop gawking at Mr. Not-A-Gigolo’s body.

When he stops laughing, he gives me an amused expression. “You were trying to hide from me, weren’t you?”

“Maybe,” I murmur.

He pats a spot on the rock next to him, gesturing for me to sit. “Come on, I won’t bite. Unless…” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

I give him a dirty look. “Trust me. I don’t want you to.”

“Well, in that case, sit and watch the sun go down with me.”

“To be honest, I’m not really up for entertaining company at the moment.”

“I promise I won’t expect you to entertain me,” he says, then that playful grin returns. “Your Bob Marley attempt last night took care of that.”

I laugh in spite of myself. “Fine.” I settle next to him, feeling the warmth of his damp skin. “So, you're a runner.”

“Just when I need to burn off some extra energy.” He turns his gaze to the sun, which is almost low enough to touch the water.

We sit in silence for a moment, and I find myself wondering why he needs to burn off extra energy. I’m not going to ask, though. That would sound like a come-on, and we’ve come dangerously close to flirting already, which is a terrible idea for someone who was supposed to be married two days ago.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Really great, thanks,” I say, nodding.

“Liar.” He bumps my shoulder with his, causing me to feel all warm and tingly.

“Okay, I suppose I am a little hungover. A lot hungover, actually. I haven’t eaten yet today. And since you asked, I guess I’m still stinging a bit about being here solo.”

“So not quite ‘really great.’”

“Not quite.”

“In that case, maybe I'm here to entertain you.” He looks down at my lips in a way that makes me swallow hard.

“Somehow I think you’re very good at entertaining women,” I murmur, my voice coming out all flimsy.

“Was that a euphemism?”

I straighten up my back. “No, I’d never talk about sex with a strange man. It wouldn’t be proper.”

“No, of course not. But don’t worry, most people who know me don’t find me all that strange,” he says. “I have my quirks, though, like everyone else.”

“Like what?”

Rubbing what looks like three-day stubble, he says, “If I tell you, it would have to be under the cone-of-silence rulebook.”

“Who would I tell? You’re the only person on this island I know, and come to think of it, I don’t actually know you.”

“Still. A man in my position can’t afford to have his secrets get out.” His face is deadly serious when he says this, so I’m not sure if I should laugh or not.

I squint my eyes, pretending to be taking this entire thing very seriously, just in case. “Well, if it’s a horrible quirk, I suppose you could get kicked out of the Society of Mixologists. Then where’d you be?” I’m flirting, aren’t I? I should really stop.

“Mixologists? Oh, right,” he says. “Because of the bar.” A look of understanding crosses his face.

Does he not know he’s a bartender? Oh my God, that’s why he’s still tending bar even though I’m quite sure he’s over thirty. He’s a good-looking dullard. But he doesn’t seem dull…

“They’re a fickle bunch, the mixologists. Very exacting standards, so you can see why it’s important for me to get your commitment before I tell you anything,” he says with a grin. “If I’m going to share a secret with you, I’m afraid you’ll have to offer one up in exchange.”

“I don’t have any juicy secrets. I’m afraid I’m an exceedingly boring woman.”

“An exceedingly boring woman who occasionally strips down to her very sexy red underwear on the beach?”

My face flames. “Oh, that’s not an occasional thing. That was unicorn-rare. It’s never happened before and never will again.”

“Never again? That’s a shame. You seemed so happy,” he says. “In that case, I’ll consider myself a lucky man to have gotten a front row seat to the show.”

Lucky? The show? “Wait a minute, I thought we promised not to bring that up.”

“I don’t remember promising that,” he says.

“Then I must have forgotten to get you to promise it.”

Reef laughs, then stands and picks up my sandals. “It’s getting late. You must be starving by now.”

I take the sandals from him, letting my fingers brush unnecessarily against his, then slide off the rock. “Oh, right. I remember you saying something about being clairvoyant last night.”

“I wish. That would be a huge help in business,” he says as we slowly start back toward the resort.

“Sure. You could just bring people their drinks and food without having to take their order.”

“Think of the tips I’d earn.”

“It would be like the best party trick ever.”

Maybe it’s okay if I flirt a little. I mean, Richard left me. It’s not like he’s back at home crying in his soup.

Bumping Reef on the arm, I say, “Okay, cone of silence. Quirk me.”

He smiles down at me. “All right. This is a biggie. It’s one I rarely tell anyone because the consequences are too big.” He pauses, letting the tension build. “I can’t stand The Beatles.”

“Beetles, as in the insect, or the iconic rock ‘n’ roll band from the sixties?”

“The second one.”

I freeze, grabbing his arm as though I need to steady myself. “No! That can’t be true.”

“But it is.”

I let go, and we start walking again.

“Not even the brilliant ‘Give Peace a Chance’ by John Lennon?”

“Not even John.”

“Surely you must like Paul. Everyone loves Paul.”

Wrinkling up his nose a bit, he says, “He seems a little smug.”

I laugh. “I can see why you don’t want that to get out.”

“Exactly. I mean, love of The Beatles is practically an entry requirement for bartenders.”

“That, and knowing all the words to ‘The Piano Man.’”

“That, too.”

We walk for a moment, then I say, “Not even “Let It Be”? Really?”

“This is why I never tell anyone.”

By the time we near the resort, I’ve found out that Reef has a younger brother who’s filming some sort of adventure/nature program, a sister who’s in culinary school in the states, he loves peanut butter and pickle sandwiches but only eats them when he’s alone because other people are so grossed out by the combination, and he’s a total insomniac who only sleeps three hours per night. Meanwhile, I’ve admitted to being the world’s biggest ABBA fan, hating the smell of cucumber, and having watched Bridget Jones’s Diary over twenty times.

As we walk along, I glance around, realizing how little I can actually see under the light of the low moon. It occurs to me that I’d be very uneasy making this trek alone. Huh, now that I think about it, maybe I should be uneasy making this trek with him. After all, he did seem like he would have slept with me when I was very drunk last night.

“Last night, were you really going to...” My voice trails off.

“Really going to what?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I was very...drunk last night...and, well...”

“You’re wondering if I was actually going to take advantage of you,” he says.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I don’t want to insult you. It’s just that...” How do I word this?

“You’re trying to figure out if you should be walking alone with me on a dark, deserted beach.”

“Sort of. Sorry.” I look up at him, trying to determine if I’ve totally insulted him.

“Why are you sorry? If I were you, I would want to know the exact same thing.”

“Do women often take advantage of you when you’re drunk?”

“They try. Believe me, they try,” he says with a dramatic sigh that makes me laugh.

“You poor, poor man.”

“Everyone has their cross to bear, I suppose. Mine is having women constantly trying to get me into bed,” he says, his tone light. “But seriously, the answer to your question is no. Definitely not with you in that state.”

“Okay, good. I didn’t think so, but it seemed wise to ask.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Although, if you were a predator, you wouldn’t tell me you were one.”

Reef stops walking and turns to me. “I suppose that’s true. If I were a smarmy predator-type, I would say exactly what I just said. But in my case, I really mean it. I took you for a walk down to the beach so you could let off a little steam. My plan was to help you find your way back to your room and leave you there, alone. The way you were talking last night, you would have taken Ringo to bed if he showed some interest.”

I laugh, then cover my face with both hands. “Oh, God, I’m so embarrassed. I’ve honestly never stripped in front of a stranger before. Or propositioned a man like that. I’m a total play-it-safe kind of girl.”

He gives me a sexy look and puts on a voice that sounds very much like Nicholas Cage. “Playing it safe is just about the most dangerous thing a woman like you could do.”

“Did you just quote Moonstruck?” I ask, my eyes growing wide.

“Maybe?” he says sheepishly.

“Oh my God, you did!” I say, laughing. “You just quoted a Cher movie!”

“It’s an Academy Award-winning movie, thank you very much,” he says, sounding a little defensive. “Anyone with a soul loves Moonstruck. It’s one of the very few perfect films ever made.”

“I totally agree. I’m just so surprised that you’d like that sort of movie.”

“Why? Did you figure me for some buffoon who only likes superhero movies?”

I pause and stare at him just long enough to confirm his suspicion, then burst out laughing at the incredulous look on his face.

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever been insulted so many times in one day.” He shakes his head, clearly trying to force himself to look upset. “You’ve assumed I’m a gigolo, or at the very least a total slut with multiple STDs, a creepy predator, and now — and possibly worst of all — that I’ve got horrible taste in movies.”

“Sorry, I was just messing with you. About the movie thing, anyway.”

He laughs as we walk up the path that leads from the beach to the resort grounds. Glancing down at me, he says, “You were wrong earlier, when you said you were boring. You’re anything but.”

“Thanks. And I guess you’re probably not a creepy slut.”

We both laugh, then when the moment ends, he gives me a look I’ve only seen on a movie hero’s face. It’s almost like he’s trying to hold himself back from kissing me. I swallow hard, staring into his eyes for a second. Oh, wow. He’s just so gorgeous I can hardly look at him. Oh, and I am in love with another man.

I quickly turn and start along the path again, and he continues beside me until we come to a fork in the path where we’ll be heading in separate directions. Turning my gaze to the sidewalk, a feeling of dread sets in, knowing I’m in for an evening alone to wallow. Unless…

“Do you have to work tonight?” I blurt out.

“No, I have the night off, actually.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” I say, suddenly realizing I should not be having dinner with an extremely attractive man, not when I’m basically still engaged, or at the very least on the rebound. Glancing down at my ring, I feel a pang of guilt. Do not ask him to have dinner with you. “Well, thanks for walking me back. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Thanks. You too,” he says.

“Goodnight,” I say, giving him a quick wave and turning very slowly toward my building. I mentally congratulate myself for making the right choice. Now I’ll have a quiet evening of reading in the tub to look forward to. Good for you, Libby. Smart decision. Now make your feet move.

“Do you maybe want to eat dinner together?” His voice tells me he’s still much closer than I thought he’d be by now.

I spin on my heel and nod. “I’d love that.”

“Can you give me a few minutes to shower first?” He glances at my growly stomach.

Do not picture him in the shower. Do not picture him in the shower. “Sure. I should freshen up a bit, too.”

“I'll pick you up in your room in, say, twenty minutes?”

“Perfect. I’m in Building A, Room 402. See you then.”

He smiles again, and just the sight of it warms me from finger tips to my toes. “See you soon, Breeze.”

The sound of my real name stops me in my tracks. “Oh, I forgot I told you that. I actually go by Libby now.”

His smile fades. “Libby…Dewitt?”

“Yes. How did you know my last name?”

Holding out his hand to me, he’s suddenly very stiff and formal. “I’m Harrison Banks.”

 

***

 

IM conversation between Libby and Alice:

 

Me: O. M. G. Turns out hot bartender is the guy who owns the resort!

 

Alice: WTF? Are you freaking kidding me?

 

Me: I wish. We met up again right after I hung up with you, then he walked me back to the resort and asked me to dinner. I said yes, against my better judgment, then we finally introduced ourselves. #totallyhumiliated

 

Alice: Did you two still go for dinner together? And exactly what does this guy look like? You said hot, but I really need a visual.

 

Me: We did not go for dinner, and I think you're missing the point. Tomorrow morning I'll be going into his office dressed in a suit, trying to convince him to sell his property. As if he's going to take me seriously after seeing me stinking drunk, then having me passed out in his bed all day. Gah! He’s seen me in wet knickers!

 

Alice: Seriously, how hot is this guy?

 

Me: Crazy hot. Completely sculpted with a smile that could melt an iceberg in under a minute.

 

Alice: So, Liam Hemsworth as Thor?

 

Me: Affirmative. Oh, Alice, what the hell am I going to do?

 

Alice: Pretend none of it ever happened. Just go in, be professional, and get the job done.

 

Me: I guess that could work.

 

Alice: It'll have to work. If he brings it up, just laugh it off and make up something about that being Vacation Libby and now you’re Business Libby.

 

Me: You make me sound like a Barbie doll.

 

Alice: It's the best I can do at 5 AM when I've only had four hours of sleep in the last two nights.

 

Me: Remind me never to have kids.

 

Alice: Never have kids. Speaking of which, Colby just woke up so I'm on duty.

 

Me: Good luck with that. I hope you manage to get a nap.

 

Alice: Thanks. Good luck with your meeting! Just be breezy about it. ;) ;)