Hopeless Vows (8 page)

“Huh?”

“Your job. Did you always want to work in fashion?”

She holds up her finger while she finishes chewing. Once she’s done, she explains. “I went to school for journalism. In high school, I thought I’d be the next Barbara Walters. I had dreams of sitting in front of the most influential people in the world and asking them the questions no one else would. I wanted to make a difference and bring about change.”

“What made you change your mind?”

She shrugs. “In college, I realized how depressing the news is. It’s almost like there’s nothing good going on in the world. Nothing worth reporting anyway. I don’t know, I guess I expected there to be an even mix of good and bad. Maybe I was just young and naïve. So I started exploring my other options. It wasn’t long after that I stumbled across a fashion show on TV I remember being almost transfixed by all the bold designs, amazing colors, and stunning fabrics. Fashion is inspiring, energetic, and fun. Clothes make people feel nice and good about themselves. It’s not sad; it’s not horrific or terrifying. It may seem shallow and superficial, but it makes me happy.” She looks at me and says, “What?” probably referring to the grin on my face.

“Nothing, you’re just really cute when you get all passionate on me.”

She looks down, hiding her face and what I’m sure are her red cheeks. “Sorry, I guess I got carried away a little.”

“No need to apologize. I like it.” I reach across and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What about you? Did you always want to run your father’s gym?” She stabs her fork into another bite of steak before bringing it to her mouth and taking a bite. The way her perfectly plump lips close around her fork makes me stupidly jealous of an inanimate object. Seriously, I need to get a life.

She clears her throat when I don’t respond. Bringing my eyes up to hers, I see her eyebrow is arched, and she’s grinning at me knowingly. “Sorry, I got distracted.”

“I can see that,” she teases.

I try to remember what she asked me, but my brain refuses to think about anything other than what her lips taste like right now. “What did you want to know again?” I ask sheepishly.

She giggles slightly. “The gym. Is that something you always wanted to do?”

“Uh, not really. I was like any typical kid growing up and wanted to be a professional baseball player. Of course, the older I got, the more I realized it probably wasn’t going to happen, so I worked with my uncle who was running it. He showed me the ins and outs of the business until I took over.”

“Awesome,” she replies.

We finish the rest of our dinner in a comfortable silence. Once we’re done, I collect our plates and take them inside. Both of us are sipping on a drink, seeming content with our surroundings. “What was your family like?” I know she said they passed away, but she never brings them up. I don’t know if it’s too hard for her to talk about them, but I think it’s important.

She tenses briefly, and if I wasn’t watching her, I would’ve missed it. “I don’t remember that much about them actually.”

“Oh, how old were you when they died?”

“Eight.” She’s clearly uncomfortable with this topic. I hate to make her feel bad, but this is part of getting to know each other. If we had all the time in the world, we could ease into these things. But since we only have eight weeks, we need to make the most of it. And that includes talking about our pasts, regardless of how painful it might be.

“What happened after that? Who did you grow up with?”

She sighs, staring at her glass of wine. “Do we have to do this right now?”

I don’t answer her, instead deciding to talk about my family. Maybe if I open up to her, it’ll encourage her to do the same to me. “I was only ten when my family died. It was horrible. In the blink of an eye I lost my mom, my dad, and my sister. I hated I had survived, that I just happened to be somewhere else when it all happened. It made me feel guilty, like I should’ve died with them. God, I was just a kid, and in one day I became an orphan and an only child. I couldn’t make sense of it then. Hell, I still can’t. My uncle became my guardian. I got lucky he was so patient with me. I rebelled the older I got and was pissed at the world. But he kept showing me that even though I felt alone, I wasn’t and pulled me through those few years of darkness. He saved me.”

Looking back at Jillian, I see a tear run down her cheek. “Why are you crying?” I take my thumb and brush it off her face.

She shrugs. “I’m sorry, I just feel bad I guess.”

I grab her arm and gently pull her to me. “There’s nothing for you to feel bad for. You didn’t do it, and I’ve accepted it now. It sucked, but it can’t be changed.” I haven’t opened up to anyone like that before. Well, except for the therapist I used to see, and my uncle. There was something in her eyes, like she needed to hear this. Maybe all these years she’s felt alone too.

“My parents didn’t keep in contact with my family. I’m not sure what happened, but they never talked. So when they . . .” she pauses, swallowing before continuing, “died, no one knew where to put me. I stayed with a few foster families until they tracked down my grandmother. I lived with her until I graduated, and she died shortly after.” I hold her tighter, knowing she needs the comfort. She was reluctant to talk to me, but the fact she did makes me feel hopeful. Hopeful that she trusts me on some level, and that’s the most important building block to any relationship.

“Thank you,” I say quietly into her ear. She must understand what I’m referring to because she doesn’t respond. She just snuggles in closer to me, and I hold her the rest of the night.

Jillian

DAY TWO OF
paradise is off to a great start. After a quick breakfast, Austin and I are looking through a brochure that was left in our room trying to decide which excursion we want to do today.

“What’ll it be?” he asks over my shoulder.

I glance over the list before stopping on one. “Do you feel like snorkeling?”

“Sounds good to me.”

And that settles it. I love how easygoing Austin is. He seems to be pretty laid back and is happy to do whatever. You can see he just enjoys life in general. The look on his face when we arrived here was priceless. I wish I’d had my camera out so I could have captured it, framed it, and hold on to it long after this experiment is over. He looked so boyish—so damn cute—in that moment. It warmed my heart.

When we get to the boat that’s going to take us out to snorkel, we have to wait on a few other passengers as well as get waivers signed by everyone on board allowing the show to film. Meanwhile, I’m trying really hard not to drool over my husband’s fantastic body that’s on full display in his board shorts hanging low on his trim hips.

“Should I call you out on checking me out again, or should I let you slide this time?” With his sunglasses on, I wasn’t aware he was watching me.

Dammit.

“Next time keep your mouth shut. You ruin it for me by speaking.”

He lets out a deep chuckle that hits me right in my core. Everything he does oozes sex, and the worst part is he’s not even trying. “How’s this then?” He stands up and makes a show of keeping his lips sealed. After a slight pause, he starts flexing. Right there in the middle of the boat, looking like a loon. Granted, he looks sexy as sin, but crazy nonetheless. He struts and poses like some world class body builder, but when he kisses his large bicep, I lose it. I’m doubled over in laughter.

“Stop, please, stop. I can’t take anymore.” I barely get the words out as I clutch my stomach and continue to laugh. He finally comes over and has a seat next to me, a smile firmly in place on his face.

“That’s a good look on you.”

When I finally catch my breath, I ask, “What do you mean?”

“Happy. You’ve seemed preoccupied a little since the wedding. I was starting to take it personally.” He nudges me with his shoulder to show he’s joking, but I detect some truth to his statement. I hate he feels like it’s him. It’s not.

“Sorry, I’ve been a little overwhelmed with the cameras, the interviews, and the wedding. It’s definitely not you. If anything, you’ve kept me sane through all of this. I’m not sure what it is about you, but you have this calming effect. Like when we were on the plane.” I press my lips together, saying way more than I wanted to.

His hand comes up and cups my face. Unconsciously, I lean into his touch. He opens his mouth, but gets interrupted by the tour guide.

“Welcome aboard. My name is John and I’ll be your guide for today.” John is not at all what I was expecting on this adventure. I was anticipating a native, someone with an accent. This guy has super blonde hair, pale skin that is tinted pink, and a voice that sounds like he originates from Alabama. Even though I know nothing about this man, I could see someone like him coming here on vacation and never leaving. “We’re going to set off momentarily, so enjoy the ride. When we get to my secret spot,” he says with a wink, “I’ll drop anchor and let you guys know.” With that, he turns around and disappears from my eyesight.

Looking at Austin, I see him surveying the other tourists on the boat with us. “What are you doing?” I ask curiously.

“I’m looking for the weakest link.” He doesn’t look at me and keeps studying everyone.

A small laugh escapes my lips. “Weakest link? What are you talking about?”

He turns his attention back toward me. “Whenever I’m in a group setting like this, I try to find the one person that’s likely to get hurt or mess something up. Then, I stay the hell away from them.”

“Do you now?” My lips curl up in amusement, but by the seriousness of his face, I can tell he’s not joking and actually does this.

“Yep. Call it a sixth sense, but I’m always right.”

I glance around, seeing if I can guess who he’d pick, but everyone looks pretty normal to me. No one stands out as being any more accident prone than the rest of us. “So, who is it then?”

After one last look, he focuses in on me. “You see that group of girls over in the corner?”

Once I locate them, I say, “Yep.”

He leans in close and says in my ear, “Stay away from them.” For some reason, this strikes me as funny and I start laughing. You’d think he was divulging some big, dark secret. The fact he’s deathly serious cracks me up even more.

“Laugh it up, giggles. You’ll see.”

“Oh, I will.”

Soon enough, the boat stops, and we’re instructed on where to get our gear and how to use it. Austin grabs his life vest and straps it on while I strip out of my bathing suit cover up. When my focus comes back up to him, he’s frozen with one arm through the jacket as he stares at me. I fidget with the strings tied at my hips holding my bottoms together.

“What?” I ask timidly.

“You’re fucking hot.” His voice is hoarse and deep. He walks toward me purposefully. Grabbing my hips and pulling me flush against him, he says, “I had no idea you were hiding all that under those frumpy pajamas you wear at night. Had I known, I might have put the moves on you.” His eyebrows move up and down salaciously.

“Stop it, you perv.” I swat his shoulder and put some distance between us, downplaying his attraction to me. My head tilts down, hoping to hide the blush that’s creeping across my face. If I’m being honest, he made me feel beautiful—no, sexy. I’ve been complimented before, but I’ve never seen such fire, such lust, in a man’s eyes. In that moment, I knew I was the only thing he saw, and that’s an empowering feeling coming from a man like Austin.

We take the stairs to the lower part of the boat once we’re ready and meet John at the back. “Okay, you see how the waves are breaking over there?” He asks as he points out to the ocean. “Don’t get too close. The waves will pull you under and slam you into the coral.” Ouch, the thought alone has me wincing. “Have fun and enjoy. I’ll sound the blow horn when it’s time to come back, okay?” We all acknowledge him and set off into the water.

“Come on, gorgeous.” Austin takes my hand and leads the way.

The water is warm and refreshing, and clearer than anything I’ve ever seen. We don’t really need our goggles since you can see all the way to the ocean floor, but we use them to keep the salt water out of our eyes. Austin and I swim around for a bit, taking in our amazing surroundings. He’s very attentive and affectionate in little ways, but sometimes the small gestures have the biggest impact. He’ll grab my hand and pull me close when I start to float away, or kiss me on the cheek whenever we’re idle.