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All I can think about is what Jordan said in the hut. His promise to give me everything I’ve been craving, and not once assuming I’d just cater to him. My foolish heart is already falling for him, and I barely know more than his name.
With his confident, overbearing attitude, I should be scared off. But he pulls the mystique off well, makes it a good quality rather than an annoying one.
As we walk along the white, sandy beach, he always ensures a hand is touching me. Gliding down my arm, pushing the hair back from my face, playing with my fingers. It’s like he’s trying to get me addicted to his touch, and I’m sucker enough to fall for it.
The lagoon we’re staying in is one of the most stunning bodies of water I’ve ever seen. The blue and green color is the perfect mix for an artist’s palette. The sparkling coral and other rock beds and fish underneath are amazing to watch.
“How did you know about this place?” I ask Jordan. “It’s so picturesque.” I can’t help the sigh that passes my lips. I never want to leave.
“An old friend of mine from Atlanta, actually. Bryson Andrews had some serious making up to do with his better half after a misunderstanding. Once their life calmed down, he intended to bring her here. They ended up having a baby.” He seemed to laugh at his friend’s plight.
“Is that where you’re from?”
“Yes, and no. My grandparents live in Atlanta, and I spent summers there. Bryce lived a couple of blocks away, and we hung out every year.” I love the smile the memory brings to his face.
“Do you still see him? Does he live in D.C., too?”
“Not as often since he’s moved back to Atlanta with Callie and their four kids.”
“That’s nice,” I say absently, staring off into the water. I’m at a loss at what the heck we’re doing.
“I was thinking,” he begins, and I look up to him—he’s so damn tall, “we could go on a sunset cruise around the island. It lasts a few hours but is supposed to be a sight to behold. Think peanut can handle it?” His eager face, coupled with calling my unborn baby peanut, has all my girly bits screaming to let this man own me.
My heart is racing so fast, I fear I might pass out. “I think we’d both like that.”
The two of us spend the rest of the afternoon goofing off and collecting more seashells than we know what to do with. Jordan insists on keeping every one of them and taking them back home to decorate the baby’s room with. He wants to have a mural of some sort made up for us to remember this trip.
He can’t possibly be real.
Can he?
Jordan
I’m almost positive Megan thinks I’m nuts at this point. The more time I spend getting to know her, the more I want to please her. Referring to us as a family seems to do the trick. I’ve noticed the way she’s held herself back from me until I mentioned peanut. As soon as I talk about the baby, she glows like any new mother should.
Boarding the small cruise boat, I ask, “Do you know how far along you are?”
Her body stiffens before she answers. “Just passed three months.”
I calculate in my head. “So almost a Christmas baby, then?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what we’re having?” I think I shock us both with the we. I hadn’t meant to say it, it just slipped out. I refuse to take it back, though.
She stops mid-step on the way to our dinner table, turns on me, and attempts to say something. Then she closes her mouth, shakes her head, and opens it again. Still, no words are forthcoming. Spinning around, she follows the hostess to our table.
Holding out the chair for her, I lean down to whisper in her ear. “I want this to work Megan.”
“I know,” she murmurs as I walk away. We’re both quiet as the hostess pours water. When she leaves, Megan says, “I want it to be a surprise.” Her face is a mask of excitement and shyness.
“Do you have a preference?”
“No,” she shakes her head, “just healthy.”
I watch her gazing at everything around us. The boat is small, not a real cruise ship, seating a dozen tables for dinner. It has an overhanging deck to sightsee underneath and along the water as it moves. Light music plays in the background with small twinkling lights lining the railing around the boat for a romantic feel. Megan seems to enjoy the relaxed atmosphere which in turn, has me enjoying her more.
“Did you always want to work for your father?” She asks me.
