“I think I’m about to go into a food coma,” I groan. “That was hands down the best meal I’ve ever had.”
“Before you do that, I think maybe we should get some after-sun lotion on your back. You’re a little pink.”
Ant disappears and returns with a bottle of clear, pale green liquid. I roll onto my belly, so tired and full, I can’t even raise an objection to his hands running all over me.
“As much as I hate the idea of covering up all this glorious skin, I’ll pick you up a rashie at the hotel shop tomorrow so you don’t get burnt again.” Ant’s hands on my back melt what’s left of my bones. They’re gentle, and the lotion is cool and soothingas he massages it into my tender skin with long, sweeping motions.
The sounds of splashing water, kids laughing and small waves rushing up the sandy beach lull me into a stupor. I don’t even notice when he stops because the next thing I know, I’m waking to the setting sun. A light rug has been thrown over me, and the lunch plates are cleared. Stretching and sighing, I sit up, still groggy but with a sense of contentment I can’t remember ever experiencing. My cheeks heat as I realise some of that contentment could be due to the dream I just had. Which starred Ant in the same outfit he was wearing when we met.
There’s a note on the table beside me, weighted down with the bottle of aloe.
Gone surfing. Will be back in plenty of time for dinner. Enjoy your nap. A x
I’m disoriented and have no idea what time it is. I stand up and stretch again, feeling slightly wobbly. Despite the aloe Ant spread on my back, there’s a slight sting as the skin stretches. Great. Only I could be stupid enough to get sunburnt on my first day in Hawaii.
I’m about to try and find my phone when the door opens. Ant’s hair is wet and dishevelled, his skin crusted with salt and sand. As it did at the airport, happiness washes over me at seeing his smiling face. It’s somewhat disturbing. Especially when I remember the dream I just had. My cheeks heat. I can only hope he thinks it’s due to the sunburn.
“Feeling better?” he asks, striding through the apartment and laying his surfboard carefully out of the way on the floor at the end of the lanai and draping his wetsuit over a spare chair. Ifbettermeans I may or may not have been close to a mind-bending orgasm during that dream I just had, then yes.
“Umm. Yes. I think so. I just woke up.” Thanks to years of hospital training, I’m usually on the minute I wake up. But this afternoon, I’m too relaxed to be hyped up.
Ant turns towards me and winces.
“Your back still looks a little red. I think you need another dose of the aloe.”
Guiding me to the edge of a sun lounge, Ant spreads another cooling layer of the gel on my tender shoulders and back. I shiver, but I’m not sure if it’s the coldness of the lotion or the feel of Ant’s fingers slipping under the tie of my bikini and the edge of the sarong.
“There, let that sink in for a few minutes. Make sure you have the water nice and cool when you shower.”
“Thanks.” I tighten the sarong that’s slipping down my hips and stand again, going to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, because suddenly my mouth is dry.
Ant saunters—that’s the only description for the way he walks—into the suite behind me and picks up a pink folder from the dining table.
“I don’t suppose you’ve looked at this?” When he holds it up, I can see it has Emily & Julian in elegant script on the front, surrounded by flowers.
“No. What is it?” Although I can guess. I walk towards him, hand outstretched.
“I thought your mother was kidding when she said there were themes and dress codes. Apparently, she was dead serious. There’s a whole itinerary.”
He hands me the folder, and we sit side by side on the sofa to investigate.
He’s right, there’s a full itinerary. For every day. Every meal. Every hour. With dress codes and instructions on what’s expected of us. It would be funny if we weren’t going to have to attend these events.
“What are you most looking forward to?” Ant asks, sarcasm dripping from his words.
“Hmm. I can’t decide. A whole day of shopping with my mother and grandmother sounds fun.” He grins, interpreting from my tone that I mean the exact opposite. “But I think I’d have to say the girls’ night is what I’m super excited for.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to go out drinking with Warren on the boys’ night.” Ant stands and stretches. “Well, if we’re going to make this dinner, we’d better get showered. We’ve got half an hour.”
That wakes me up. I need to look on point tonight if I don’t want to spend the night on the end of Grandie’s barbs.
“What? Why didn’t you say so?”
His chuckles follow me as I leap off the sofa and scuttle into the bedroom, shutting the door with a snap.
I rush through my shower—which, as instructed, I set to cool—only giving my hair one shampoo instead of the usual two. I just have to hope it’s not too full of sand.
There’s no time to dry it, so I wrap it in a towel turban-style while I do my make-up, then twist it into a smooth knot on the crown of my head.
