Ezra tosses a bottle of sunscreen, two towels, swim trunks, and a white bikini onto the counter, then pulls out his credit card.
“What? No, you?—”
“I’ve got it.” He winks at the salesclerk. And because I’ve exhausted all my energy arguing with myself over my swimsuit choices, I keep my mouth shut.
When we get outside, I snag the keys from him and hop into the driver’s seat. Blessedly, he doesn’t argue. He just rounds the car and climbs in, bag in hand.
“What was that back there?” I jam the key into the ignition.
“What?”
I purse my lips and shoot him a glare. “Don’t act dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”
“We’re on our honeymoon, remember? I can’t have people thinking I don’t take care of my wife.”
With a slow blink, I cock my head. “Ah, yes. The wife whose last name you took. Makes total sense.”
Ezra is silent a beat, then exhales loudly. “You’re right.”
“Sorry, what?”
“You’re ri—oh, fuck off.” He chuckles.
After changing in a wooden stall at the beach, I join Ezra, where he’s laid the towels out side by side. He’s wearing pale pink trunks that hug his upper thighs immaculately.
“Wow, it’s stunning here.” Digging my toes into the brown sugar–like sand, I take in the lush, green mountains. They’re extravagant, straight out of a movie.
“This side of the island is windier, but it’s definitely the prettiest.”
Waves a palette of blues and greens gently crash onto the shore, providing the perfect ambience for our silence. The faintly floral scent of the tropical breeze is mixed with the rich, smokyaroma of a nearby barbecue, as well as Ezra’s sunscreen. The coconut smell sends me straight to the summers I spent at theater camp. Spider webs nestled between bunk beds, sopping-wet underwear abandoned in shower stalls, and potato chips stuffed in turkey bacon sandwiches. Quirky memories like those always hit me first. The innocent and goofy ones. Sure, I experienced moments with the stereotypical cliques and backstabbers clawing their way to the top, but overall, it was the most fun I had as a kid. A place where I felt truly alive and welcome.
Ezra clears his throat beside me, breaking through the haze of nostalgia. “Can I say something without the risk of sounding like a total ass and offending you?”
I huff a loud breath and cock a brow. “Can you?”
“I don’t know how to say?—”
“Then don’t.” I sense in my veins what’s next. Something along the lines of “you’ve gained weight.” Though I doubt he’d be that blunt, it doesn’t make the question any more appropriate.
He scans my body, top to bottom, then zeroes in on my legs below the hem of my cover-up.
This is it. Annoyance flares to life in my every cell. This is where another man has an opinion about my body.
Head tilted, he says, “I don’t know why you’re covering up.”
Without missing a beat, I feign laughter. “Have you seen how pale I am? I’m like Casper the Friendly Ghost next to you.” I nudge his naked arm with my elbow.
“What’s wrong with fair skin? Just make sure to use sunscreen so you don’t burn.” He tosses the bottle to me. “Plus, you’ve gotta get in the water sometime.”
“I’m waiting until I’m hot enough.”
“Oh, you’re plenty hot, honey.” He winks.
I blink in astonishment, my mind going blank.
“If you don’t take that damn muumuu off right now, I’m tossing you in the water with it on.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
