How to Honeymoon Alone

“Yes.”

“You know, a man with actual stamina would solve both problems.”

“Yes, but then there are all the other things involved,” I say. “A vibrator won’t overstay its welcome or use too much tongue.”

He chuckles. “I think it’s a given you’ll get no tongue at all with a vibrator.”

“Yes,” I say. Then, I shake my head. “That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.”

“I never suspected I’d say it,” he retorts.

“What a historic moment,” I agree. “We should toast to it.”

He holds up his glass, and I touch it with my own.

“So,” he says like we’re not having the most outlandish conversation of my life, “was the too much tongue comment a hint?”

My cheeks flame. “Oh.”

“Yes,” he says, again so matter-of-factly. “If you’ve got constructive criticism, I can take it.”

“I’ve never met a man whose ego can handle constructive criticism.”

He chuckles. “Then, you’ve met too many insecure men.”

“Probably, yes.” I look down at my drink. “At any rate, the comment wasn’t about you. Your, um, amount of tongue was excellent.”

Around us, the night tightens its hold.

“Excellent?” he asks.

“Mh-hmm. No complaints.”

“Right. Well, I enjoyed kissing you.”

My throat goes dry. “Yeah. Well… I did too.”

He smiles and looks back down at his menu. The air between us feels charged. I try to focus on the list of food in front of me but find my eyes glossing over the text.

I look out at the other guests instead, past the tables of happy diners. My gaze snags on a woman, weaving her way through the restaurant. I can only see her from the side… but she looks distinctly familiar. The auburn hair. The confident walk.

“Oh my God,” I whisper. “I think someone I know just walked in.”

Phillip lowers his menu. “They did?”

“Yes. My ex’s cousin is here.”

“And by ex, you mean…?”This content © Nôv/elDr(a)m/a.Org.

“Yeah, my non-husband, if you will.”

Phillip lifts keen eyes over to the crowd. “Who is it?”

“Auburn-haired. Five o’clock. God, why the hell is she in Barbados? And at the Winter Resort?”

He frowns. “Do you think she’s here to talk to you?”

I shake my head. “I’ve only met her a handful of times. Oh, God, she’s going to report back to Caleb that she’s seen me here. Oh. She’s going to the bar.” I duck my head, focusing on the menu as if my life depends on it. “Everyone at home thought I was crazy for wanting to go on my honeymoon alone,” I say. My voice sounds high-pitched. She’s going to say that she saw me. Oh, she looked so brave, the poor soul.

Phillip is frowning. “Well, you look relaxed and happy.”

“Thank you,” I murmur. I’m still ducking my head as much as I can.

“She’s ordering at the bar now, so she’s got her back to you.”

“Good.” I wrap my hands around my nape, head still bowed. Please, don’t recognize me.

“So,” Phillip says. The gravity in the single syllable makes me look up. He’s watching me with unreadable eyes. “She knew your honeymoon would have been here?”

“Yes, Kaelie works for a travel agency and online travel magazine, so she helped me a bit with the planning. Maybe she’s here because of her job?”

“Maybe.” Phillip gives me a crooked grin. Something an awful lot like determination sparks in his eyes. He leans forward, bracing an arm on the table. “What would be the worst thing your ex could hear? That you’ve found someone to replace him?”

My heart speeds up from the implication. “But…you…why…yes.”

He rests his hand next to mine. “Look up. Let her see you.”

I take a deep breath. “You mean we pretend…?”

“Yes,” he says. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

I look down at his hand. Only an inch away from mine. And he’s staring at me like… well.

Like he means what he says.

I think of Caleb, his sometimes mean jokes, and his smug smiles when his football team won. I think of that time he asked me to make food for him and his friends for a football game but never said thank you. I don’t know why right now, in this very moment, that rankles me more than knowing he’d snuck around with one of my best friends for months. But damn it, I spent hours marinating the meat and making sides and the queso he liked so much. And he’d never said thank you!

So I look over at Phillip like he makes me the happiest woman in the world. My hand slides to his, and he flips it over, twining our fingers together.

A shiver runs down my back.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “She’s spotted us… It’s clear she doesn’t know what to think.”

“You’re enjoying this,” I whisper. I can’t tell how close she is, so I focus on the dark-blue of his eyes instead.

His hand squeezes mine. “Showtime, Eden.”

Then, she’s upon us.