Forever Our Beach (Flirt Club)

5. Megan

5

Megan

As I wait for Caleb to arrive, I begin to second guess my choice to wear the slinky, emerald green, slip dress. It’s one I purchased specifically for this trip—and for my ex—knowing that the green would not only set off my hair, but also the creaminess of my skin whether or not I’d already managed to develop the beginnings of a tan. The sweetheart neckline reveals enough of my cleavage to be enticing without any fears of wardrobe mishaps. I wonder if it’s too much, if I’m making a statement, I’m not ready fulfill, but then I remember that the bikini I wore showed off a whole lot more. And from what I could tell, it didn’t turn Caleb’s head at all so I should be safe… even if the thought of him not being as attracted to me as I am him, makes it a little difficult to breathe.

It's all for the best , I remind myself as I hear the doorbell. After a deep breath to calm my erratic and sudden nerves, I cross the terrazzo floor and open the door. One look at Caleb and all doubt flees. He’s wearing a short sleeved, green, dress shirt that’s nearly identical in color to my dress. The color sets off his blue eyes, making them remind me of the way the tropical waters looked against the lush rainforest in pictures. And if I thought his shirts were tailor made to fit his form, they had nothing on the soft beige dress pants that left nothing to the imagination while not being indecent.

“You look amazing. Beautiful.” His gaze slowly roams over me, pausing at the stop of my slit near the junction between my legs and then again at my cleavage, making my skin flush. An attractive look I’m sure when I look like Christmas. Thankfully the strawberry blonde of my hair doesn’t read as red otherwise I’d never wear green.

“Thanks. So do you.” To my surprise, a light rosiness grows across his cheekbones.

He holds out his arm, giving me room to slip my hand between his biceps and his body. “Shall we go?”

He leads me through the lush grounds of the main resort to their top end French restaurant. Our conversation is light, referencing back to some of the ideas he presented for me to consider, making the walk pass faster than I wanted. There’s something about being in his presence that makes me never want to leave.

The maite d’ leads us to a private table surrounded by greenery that further enhances the feeling of us being all alone even if you can hear the slightest hum of conversation over the sounds of rolling waves, the wind blowing through the palms, and the singing of the frogs.

“Are you willing to trust me?”

I stop myself from giving a quick answer. Prior to everything, the “yes” would fall from my lips without question, but that was before. Now, it’s not so easy or automatic. I trusted my ex with everything, and he betrayed me in the worst way. That’s not to mention what she did. Only those extremely close to you, those who know the real you, can fundamentally hurt you at your core. It’s a risk you take every time you let someone in, allow them to grow close, but the consequences of betrayal by them never leave you the same. And the ability to trust is one of the first casualties. It’s also one of the hardest things to relearn as well.

But in this, where the stakes hopefully aren’t too high, I think I can do it.

“In food… yes.”

His smile dims a little, but he doesn’t make me feel bad. If anything, that little show of empathy does more to raise my spirits and start to grow the remaining kernels of trust within me.

“I’m glad. The chef we have here is phenomenal and could probably work anywhere in the world and in any restaurant. So, if you’re game, I asked her to create a tasting menu for us. One where she could stretch her creativity.”

And just like that, he proves my small amount of trust wasn’t misplaced. One of the reasons that pushed me into choosing this resort was this chef so to say that I’m excited would be an understatement.

With each course, we take turns asking questions, getting to know each other on a deeper level. It’s different and easy. There are no uncomfortable silences even though many times we landed a little too close to topics that didn’t fit while eating food that offered a pleasure for our palettes. But even then, nothing was said even if we recognized our retreats into safer topics.

By the time I finished my last bite of dessert, I could no longer deny the feelings that bubble inside me for Caleb.

“Care to walk along the beach with me, allowing our supper to settle?”

I place my hand in his and stand, not wanting this evening to end anytime soon.

The walk to the beach is quiet, giving me a chance to think about what I’m doing. I know I need to tell him what happened. Not only so he knows the baggage and damage I’m carrying, but I need to do it for myself. It will be my first start to recognizing what I experienced, what happened to me.

When we reach the end of the board walk, I stop, wanting to remove my heels so I can walk in my bare feet. As soon as he realizes what I’m doing, Caleb sinks to his knees.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.” As soon as I do, he lifts my foot to his thigh and slips my shoe off before doing the same with my second one. It’s this care that pushes me.

“Do you mind if we sit near the water?”

“Not at all.” He drags one of the loungers to the water’s edge before motioning me to sit.

I face the water unable to look at him if I’m going to bare my soul. “I want to tell you why I’m here alone instead of with my ex.” From the corner of my eye, I see him nod, but it’s his hand, reaching over to hold mine, that gives me that little extra courage. “A few days ago, I came home early from work. My boss decided that I needed to be out of the office and resting before the wedding instead of being there and becoming stressed over various upcoming projects. Lost in thought over wedding details, I never even heard them. But when I pushed open my bedroom door, there was no way to miss them.”

When I hesitate, trying to push my emotions away, I feel him squeeze my hand. A silent way of showing me that he’s here, supporting me. “My youngest sister and my fiancé were in bed together. Naked. Kissing. Obviously having just finished having sex from the glow and relaxation in their muscles. So wrapped up in each other, they never even heard me, allowing me to hear how they’d been sleeping together for the past two years and how in love they were with each other. But when she told him that she was pregnant, I couldn’t keep the anguish from revealing my presence.”

“Holy fuck.”

A small chortle escapes at his response. Holy fuck, indeed. The whole things reads like a bad novel or soap opera especially when they tried to apologize, telling me they never meant to hurt me. But the two-year time frame and the fact that he was still going to willingly marry me kind of proves that all their words were lies.

“Fuck them. They’re idiots.” He jumps to his feet, pulling me up with him. Water brushes over our feet as he wraps his arms around me. “I’m so sorry you were hurt, darling. You didn’t deserve any of it. But I can’t say that I’m not happy that they screwed up. This way I’m meeting you when you’re single instead of on your honeymoon.”

With one hand, he releases me, allowing him to tilt my head back until I’m staring directly at him.

“Tell me you feel it to. This thing between us.” I nod. “Good, because I’m going to kiss you now.”

He moves slowly, lowering his head while giving me the time to back away. But I don’t. I want to feel his lips like I’ve never wanted something before.

And when they land, their soft brush has me melting into him. One kiss. Two kisses. Then, after warming me up, he claims me, pushing his way into my mouth and taking ownership. The commanding stroke of his tongue sends my thoughts spiralling, making me think of how he’d make love to me.

A moan escapes, but the sound is quickly swallowed up as he kisses me again. And again. Until I’m dizzy with the need to breathe.

When he finally stops, resting his forehead against mine, moonlight shines on us giving us a silver shimmer.

“That was the best kiss I’ve ever experienced.”

I chuckle at the absurdity of the statement. I mean, I know it’s true for me, but he has decades of experience. Experience that he clearly revealed in the skillfulness of his kissing. “Sure thing, old man.”

He stares me directly in the eye, letting me know the sincerity of his statement. “In my forty-plus years, I’ve never felt the earth shift like that when kissing someone. It’s like my whole axis tilted, pointing directly to you.”

Unable to deal with how his comment makes me feel, I back off a little. And keeping true to form, he gives me the out, bringing me back to my room while telling me that he needed his sleep since he has a busy few days with back-to-back meetings.

And after another quicker, but no less earth-shattering kiss, he leaves. The moment the door closes, and the blinds come down, hiding me from the world, I slump to the floor, allowing the tears to fall.

Tonight was a start, but I don’t know if I’m ready to take the next step.