ii. La Rose
He's not sure what he's expecting from any of this, consider that they had fucked within 10 hours of meeting each other, but they become fast friends. Actual friends. Friends who also just so happen to have wild, outrageously good sex every once in a while. As in every day. Multiple times a day. Any chance they can get, actually.
But he's a divorced man and she's a single woman; he asks just to make sure, since he isn't a homewrecker. So it's all fine. More than fine, really.
She's a firecracker in bed and in their conversations. She's brilliant and witty and can hold her own. She takes no shit and he likes that about her. She's the picture perfect island bartender with her soft flowy skirts and ready smile, but her pierced nipples and black lace panties imply a wilder side of her that he wants to know more about.
They talk for hours on end, mostly at the bar she works at, Kwizin. He has built up ages worth of leave from the FBI, and spending his days in a beachfront bar isn't a bad way to use his vacation time. The owner is a cheery, generous woman from Barbados, Laticia. After a week seeing how many hours he spends there, she tosses him a wet rag and instructs, "Clean table 3," so he does. It's not a bad job, given who his co-worker is.
The days blur together with the backdrop of the infinite ocean and the clear skies and the beautiful woman he's so intrigued with. When they finish closing up the bar every night, they walk hand-in-hand along the beach to her little bungalow.
It's all a huge cliché. It's all too good to last, but they approach three weeks together and he still hasn't heard from the FBI about when he needs to come back, so he pushes his leave for another week and his supervisor grants it.
He thinks he might actually be in love with her. And from the looks he catches on her face, he isn't the only one with those feelings. One night, they curl next to each other on the beach near a makeshift rock fire pit. He looks at her and still finds himself amazed that this dazzling woman could find anything of interest in him.
"Shh. You're thinking too loudly," she murmurs without looking up from her place on his chest.
He drops a kiss to the top of her head and brazenly asks, "Why are you with me? You could have any man on this island. Any man in the world, actually."
He doesn't expect an answer, not after her long silence, but when she turns her head to meet his eyes, he doesn't even try to understand the meaning behind her words.
"You make me forget the worst parts."