A short, shippy little chapter. I promise this is going somewhere!
Chapter Twenty-Three: Someday We'll Have the Island
Sydney and Michael spent their first few hours at Irina's vacation home in St. Bart's napping, or rather, Michael did. Sydney just lay there, staring at her beautiful husband and trying not to think about what lay ahead for them when they returned from their vacation.
Michael opened his eyes, and his face softened into a smile at the sight of her. "Hey."
"Hi," she said, returning his smile. She was determined not to show him how tense she was feeling, not to ruin the last few days before everything changed.
"Have you been awake long?" he asked, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. "You could have woken me."
"Oh, I didn't want to do that." She didn't have the heart to tell him that she hadn't slept at all. "What do you want to do tonight, sweetheart?"
He smiled. "We haven't been out on a date in awhile."
"A date?" she teased. "Like you mean what single people do on the weekends?"
"What we used to do, occasionally," he corrected. "Dinner, drinks, dancing."
She let out a peal of laughter almost in spite of herself and all of the worries plaguing her. He must have been worried, too, but he wasn't letting it show. "You have never taken me dancing, Michael Vaughn."
"I have, too!" he protested.
"Uh-uh," she shook her head. "We've danced at my mother's parties, that is not the same thing."
"Syd," he said, hurt flashing in his green eyes. "How could you forget our honeymoon?"
Sydney's eyes widened at the memory. Of course. That secluded little restaurant in Jamaica. It had been kind of a dive, actually, but the food had been amazing and the music had been even better. The fact that they'd been among the only customers hadn't stopped the reggae band from playing nearly till dawn. "Another song for the lovers," the singer had said more than once.
"Not just lovers," Michael had murmured in her ear, dipping her low. "Newlyweds."
They'd been so happy.
"You're right," she said, laying her head on his chest and planting a loving kiss there. "How could I have forgotten? God, that was amazing, Michael. That whole trip. Why haven't we ever gone back there?"
"I don't know," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Maybe because there's no way it cold ever be as perfect as it was then."
She smiled, turning to kiss his lips. "We'll go on our twenty-fifth anniversary."
He returned her smile. "You mean that's not where you want to escape to after we turn in your mother?"
Sydney's smile faded. Why had he had to bring that up? "Not Jamaica, no."
"No?" he questioned.
A sliver of a smile crossed Sydney's face. "No," she decided. "Somewhere more secluded."
"Mmm," he said, giving her a soft kiss. "Sounds amazing."
She settled her head back on his chest again. It did sound amazing. She was just so scared.
"It will happen for us, Syd," he whispered. "Someday, we'll have the island."
She closed his eyes, hoping desperately that his words were true.