We’d been warned that customs was running slower. They were short-staffed due to the late hour, and I was hoping they’d be as motivated to process us as we were to get out of here. I was more than ready to crash, and we still had to take a ferry to Anguilla.
I lowered my baseball cap, hoping no one else would recognize me. I tried to be kind to fans, but sometimes people could be so…invasive. One wrong move or statement taken out of context had the power to destroy my career.
“Is something wrong?” Bryn nudged me, and I hated that she’d picked up on my unease.
“Everything’s fine.”
When I spied my duffel bag, I tossed it over my shoulder before taking Bryn’s bags in my other hand. “Come on.”
“Bear,” she chided. “You really don’t have to?—”
“Bryn.” I leaned in. “I don’t have to. I want to.”
She didn’t argue again after that, but I had a feeling her acquiescence had more to do with fatigue than agreement. Regardless of the reason, I’d take it as a win.
After waiting in line then clearing customs, we stepped outside, only to discover that the ferry to Anguilla had stopped running hours ago. And there wouldn’t be another one until the morning. Bryn sank down on a bench and called the hotel, placing the phone on speaker. They promised to send a boat just for us and apologized profusely for the inconvenience.
At least that was settled. And our bags had arrived, which was a relief, considering the fact that we’d been rerouted.
As Bryn and I sat on the pier, waiting for our boat, she leaned her head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arm around her, holding her close. Just that simple contact had me feeling calmer.
“Well, this has been quite the adventure so far.” She laughed.
“That’s one word for it,” I joked.
Her body was warm against mine, and I loved the way she felt in my arms. Like she belonged there.
Despite a long day of travel with numerous setbacks, Bryn hadn’t complained once. In fact, she’d taken it all in stride just like she did everything else in life.
When a boat pulled up to the dock, a man in a Huxley Grand uniform stepped onto the pier. “Mrs. Morgan?”
“Yes. Thank you for coming to get us.” Bryn smiled as if it were normal. And I supposed for her, it was. That was her name—Morgan. Derek’s last name. Her married name. But hearing her referred to asMrs. gave me a jolt.
I watched Bryn, but she didn’t seem fazed. It was a powerful reminder that part of her would always belong to Derek. The wind pushed her hair away from her face, and I remembered the feeling of cupping her cheek. She’d looked up at me as if I were her whole world. And I held on to that feeling, realizing that maybe she could also belong to me.
“I’m James with the Huxley Grand Anguilla,” the man said, interrupting my thoughts. “Allow me to load your bags, and then we’ll be on our way. There are some waters and snacks on board. Please help yourself. It’s about a twenty-minute ride to Anguilla.”
During the ride, James told us about the history of the island and the resort amenities. It was pleasant on the water, but more than anything, I wanted a shower to wash the travel grime off meand a comfortable bed. Judging from the looks of the resort as we docked, neither would be an issue.
I’d stayed at a number of Huxley Grand properties—they were the official hotel of the Hollywood Hawks after all. But never one like this. It was located in one of the most exclusive spots in the Caribbean. A tiny island only sixteen miles long and three miles wide that didn’t allow cruise ships, high rises, or casinos. Sounds like heaven.
After debarking, we followed James up the path toward the hotel that looked more like a giant sandcastle rising out of the island. The cream-colored walls practically glowed against the night sky. And what a sky it was—full of stars that reminded me of being back in Canada, where there was way less light pollution than LA.
Waves crashed in the distance, and I could only imagine what this place looked like during the day. Magical was the best word to describe it. The hotel seemed designed to showcase the natural landscape, contorting itself to the land instead of imposing itself on nature. The sea air was a balm to my soul, and I found myself relaxing.
This was the first vacation I’d taken in years, and I got to spend it with Bryn. The idea had me smiling.
James stopped in front of a bungalow overlooking the ocean. Well, I assumed it had an ocean view based on the volume of the waves and the path we’d traveled from the dock, but it was too dark to see. “Welcome to your beachfront bungalow.”
“Wait.” Bryn frowned. “There must have been a mistake because I booked a suite in the main resort.”
James smiled. “The happy couple gifted you with an upgrade.”
“Oh. Oh wow,” Bryn said, clearly surprised. “That’s very…generous.”
“You are fortunate,” James continued. “It’s difficult to get a bungalow, especially during the high season. And between your wedding party and another one, the resort is full.”
We followed James inside, and he set our bags down before walking over to the French doors facing the ocean. My attention was on the ceiling, where warm wood beams followed the slope of the roof, drawing the eye up toward the peak. The craftsmanship was beautiful, and I admired the work that must have gone into it.
