“This is unbelievable.”

Rhett stretched out on the sand of an uninhabited beach a few miles off the coast of Moorea. Cole glanced over at him and watched him bury his toes in the sand and wiggle them until they were visible again.

“What specifically?” Cole asked, kicking a spray of sand on the top of Rhett’s foot.

Following a quick wank in the shower and some deliberation after seeing Rhett’s apprehension to being in the same water as a dozen harmless sand sharks, Cole had booked the island boat tour. They were with a group of three other couples—real couples—and after they’d all helped the tour guides prepare lunch, they’d split off to enjoy more secluded parts of the beach before they were due to return.

The sun was just beginning its descent toward the horizon, the air smelled like tiare flowers and roast pork, but all Cole could see was the way the light bounced off Rhett’s golden skin; all he could smell, the subtle hint of sweat that had broken out on his neck.

“I mean, it’s beautiful.” Rhett turned and smiled at Cole and the sweat slicked further down his neck into the dip of his throat. “And it’s crazy to think that a place like this exists. Such a gorgeous stretch of land that nobody lives on, and with this view.”

Cole followed Rhett’s gaze as it drifted toward the crystalline blue ocean a few yards beyond where they lay.

“It is lovely,” Cole agreed, studying Rhett’s profile.

There was no way he was going to make it through the week.

“This is probably the wrong venue, but I think there’s some things we need to talk about,” Rhett said suddenly, turning sharply and adjusting his position in the sand. Cole reacted accordingly, brushing stray grains of sand and shell from his legs.

He desperately hoped Rhett wasn’t going to call him out on the huge erection he’d been sporting when he got out of bed this morning. He’d tried to untangle himself from the covers and turn quick enough that his crotch would be obscured, but if Rhett had caught a glance of his inappropriate boner, this whole deal could be shot.

“Have at it,” Cole said with a forced smile.

“I’ve been thinking and there’s some logistical things we need to agree on.”

Cole let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Like what?”

“Like, when are you going to propose to me, for one?” Rhett asked.

Cole’s eyebrows lifted toward his hairline. “You’re direct.”

“Yeah, well, I’m your future fake husband, so get used to it.”

Cole narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re a lot meaner than your brother, you know.”

“Did you want to fake-marry him?” Rhett teased him, flicking sand off his knee.

“Definitely not.” Cole cleared his throat, displeased with how gruff his answer had sounded.

“Seriously, though. We need to have a schedule, or at least, like,” he stopped and twisted his face into a grimace. “I don’t know, Cole. We need to know how long we’re doing this for, don’t you think?”

Cole did think. He thought about a lot. Primarily, he thought about how his life would be a living hell being fake married to Rhett and not able to really fuck him for however long was necessary.

“I want to make all your dreams come true,” Cole answered, and he was surprised to find that the words rang true in his heart. He swallowed and shook his head, offering Rhett a sincere smile. “If I was really your boyfriend, I’d know how you want to be proposed to, so tell me that.”

“Christmas.” Rhett scoffed at himself. “That’s so trite.”

“No it’s not. Tell me,” Cole pushed.

“I love those cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies,” Rhett admitted, “and I always wanted it to be like that when someone proposed. Cheesy Santa hats, Christmas tree, yummy smelling candles, twinkle lights.”

“Does Lucy get twinkle lights too?”

His head snapped up so quickly, Cole was surprised there wasn’t a noise that went along with it. Rhett’s eyes were wide and focused on him, then they narrowed as they scanned across his features.

“What does Lucy have to do with this?” he asked.

“She’s your plant, baby. I just assumed she’d be there,” Cole stammered.

There was a short silence before Rhett answered, “When I think about it in my head, she’s there.”

“So, there’s your answer.” Cole scratched at the back of his head. “I’ll propose to you on Christmas Eve, at your place. We’ll have hats and mulled wine from the vineyard, and Lucy will have her own lights.”

Rhett made a disagreeable sound.

“No?” Cole questioned, not sure of where he’d gone wrong.

“If we’re serious enough to be getting married, don’t you think we would be living together?”

Cole was going to be dead before New Year’s if Rhett kept dropping all this logic.

“That’s more romantic.” Cole tested the idea. “The winery is beautiful at Christmas. I’ll decorate appropriately and make sure Lucy is festive for the occasion.”

“Alright,” Rhett agreed, “Thank you for that.”

“For what?”

“For trying to give me my dream proposal even if it’s fake.”

Rhett’s face always did this pained looking twitch when he talked about their pretend relationship and it made Cole feel physically ill. The idea that anything he said or did being responsible for causing Rhett any discomfort made him ready to call the entire thing off until he came up with a better solution. Or worse.

“We should stop that. You should stop, I mean.”

“Stop what?” Rhett angled his head.

“Saying it’s fake. We can’t slip up and say that where someone could overhear. So you just shouldn’t say it anymore.”

Rhett’s features softened and his lips quirked into a small smile. “Alright.”

“That’s settled then,” Cole finalized and Rhett nodded in agreement.

“That sort of comes around to the other thing I wanted to talk to you about, which is starting my business.” He looked nervous and Cole patted him on the knee until he smiled again.

“What do you need from me to get started?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s easy. I’ll get you in touch with someone from the winery marketing team when we’re home from the wedding.”

“Are you serious?” Rhett’s mouth fell open.

Cole reached forward and placed his finger on the bottom of Rhett’s chin, pushing upward to close his mouth.

“Of course I’m serious.”

“I was thinking I could plan our wedding,” Rhett blurted, before slamming his eyes closed.

“I assumed you would.” Cole shrugged. Rhett’s life goal was to be an event planner. Cole was supposed to help him start the business. Planning their wedding had seemed to Cole like it was a given.

Rhett launched himself forward, his arms wrapping around Cole’s shoulders with such force he fell backward into the sand. Rhett landed on top of him and the air whooshed from his lungs. Cole didn’t dare move, he just lay there, his back on the hot sand and Rhett’s chest plastered against him.

“Thank you,” Rhett exhaled. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he responded, his lashes fluttering closed when Rhett’s breath danced across them.

Another silence. Another moment of stillness between them. Cole tried to memorize the weight of Rhett’s body on top of his before he locked it in a mental vault and tried to focus on end of year financials for the vineyard so his cock didn’t stab Rhett in the thigh.

“You’re squishing me,” he lied.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” Rhett apologized, scrambling backward.

Cole waited a beat before returning himself back to a sitting position.

“Oh, you’re a mess,” Rhett lamented, reaching forward and brushed his hand down Cole’s chest. “Sand everywhere.”

Cole’s nipple hardened under Rhett’s inconsequential touch, and he cursed himself.

“Five minute warning, everyone!” the skipper of the boat called out to them, ready to board so they could return to the main island.

Cole shook his head and pulled away from Rhett’s touch.

“We should get back to the boat,” he said.

“Yeah.” Rhett stood and brushed the sand off them both, shuffling toward where the boat was docked.

Cole followed him, allowing his eyes to linger on the firm globes of Rhett’s ass under his swim trunks. He’d use the sandy beach as an excuse to take a shower when they got back to the hotel and he’d just have to jerk off again.

“Where do you want to get married?” Cole asked him after they’d settled into their seats on the boat and had begun the short journey back to the hotel.

Rhett bit his lips between his teeth and stared at the waves lapping against the bow of the boat. He didn’t answer. Cole reached between them and grabbed his hand, gripping his fingers securely in his own.

“Did you want to get married here?” Cole guessed. “Because we can. We can come back here. I don’t care.”

He’d spare no expense for Rhett; he knew that already.

“Not here,” Rhett whispered, a blush spreading up to his forehead.

“Tell me.” He pulled Rhett closer, his shoulder bumping into Cole’s chest. Rhett relaxed against him, their sweaty and sandy skin sticking together. Cole took a risk and wrapped Rhett in his arms, his fingers sliding tentatively across Rhett’s stomach and chest.

Rhett’s heart slammed against Cole’s hand, but neither of them acknowledged it.

“Tell me,” he repeated, his lips hovering near Rhett’s ear.

He rolled his head against Cole’s chest and turned, his breath puffing against Cole’s chin with even measures as the boat bounced across the sea.

“I’ve always wanted to get married at Mallory.” Rhett’s admission landed hot and true against Cole’s mouth.