Page 17 of Her Fake Island Wedding

Chapter Nine

Justine mellowed out after another cocktail, and somehow they managed to escape without directly answering the question about why they were in such a hurry to get married. Finally, Justine declared that the jet lag was catching up with her and she was going to go rest for a while before meeting them for dinner at the Italian restaurant in the main hotel building.

“And over dinner, you must tell me all about your family, Bryce!” Justine declared.

“Won’t that be fun,” Bryce muttered under his breath. Lucy squeezed his hand and he mustered up a smile.

“We’ll walk back with you part of the way,” Lucy said. “When we turn in through the staff gate, you just carry straight on into the main resort reception. You can’t get lost.”

Draining the last of his beer, Bryce set the glass down and thanked Nessa. She gave him a warm smile and a wink as she efficiently cleared away the empty glasses.

Lucy’s hand slipped into his again as they walked away from the bar, and Bryce thought briefly about how natural it felt to hold her hand now. He knew he was still going to be reaching out to take her hand instinctively long after Justine had gone home, which was likely to lead to a few awkward moments.

“All right, I’ll see you two lovebirds later,” Justine said as they arrived at the staff gate. “No doubt you can think of something to do to fill in your afternoon!” She winked at Bryce.

She thinks we’re going to have sex, Bryce realized, and told himself firmly not to blush. Lucy was already doing enough of that for both of them.

“Any time I get to spend with Lucy is a gift,” he said, knowing it was a sappy line but sure Justine would eat it up. She gave him an amused look before turning on her heel and heading for the main resort building.

Lucy sagged against Bryce as soon as her mother was out of sight.

“Hey.” Letting go of her hand, he put a bracing arm around her shoulders instead. “C’mon. You’re doing great. She’s fallen for it hook, line and sinker.”

“She’s been here for two hours,” Lucy bemoaned as he opened the gate. “I’ve got to survive twoweeksof this!”

“We’ll survive it together.” They reached her cabin and Bryce hesitated. “What do you want to do, here? Rosie basically moved me in with you.”

Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. “Bless her. I thought she was just going to make it look good. On the other hand, Justine is the kind of person who would feel completely entitled to look in any drawer or cupboard she felt like, so maybe it’s for the best.”

“It’s not going to be terribly convenient for you if I’m walking in every ten minutes to get a change of clothes or brush my teeth, though,” Bryce pointed out.

“Well, you could just stay here,” Lucy said, opening the cabin door and gesturing to him to enter.

A dead silence fell between them as Bryce stared at her.

“Uh, Lucy,” he said hesitantly.

“Platonically! I mean, I’m not going to jump on you. It’s a queen size bed!”

She was babbling. Bryce stared at her, wondering what the hell was going through her mind.

“I’m not going to jump on you either,” he said slowly, “at least, not when I’m awake, but when I’m asleep… well, I don’t think I’d jump on you then either, but how would you react if, for example, you woke up with me shoving my morning wood against your backside?”

Lucy’s eyes widened, and then she let out a giggle of shock. “Bryce!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s a natural thing. I wake up most mornings hard as a rock.” He shrugged. “Nothing I can do about it… until after I’ve woken up.”

Lucy’s pale cheeks took on a deeper hue, and she dropped her gaze before murmuring “Well… maybe I could give you a hand with that.”

She could not possibly mean what he almost desperately wanted to believe she did. Shocked, Bryce stared at her, not at all sure what to say. For a moment there was complete silence in the cabin, which suddenly seemed a lot smaller than it had before.

“Did you seriously just offer to give me a morning hand job?” he blurted out finally.

Lucy’s lips twitched, and then she began to laugh, almost hysterically. Flopping down on the bed, she giggled madly, rolling up into a ball, grabbing her pillow to muffle her chuckles and snorts.

“Okay, I think today’s been a bit much for you,” Bryce said, realising she was overwrought. Gingerly, he sat down on the bed beside her, reached out to smooth his hand over her hair. She grabbed onto his hand and clutched it as though he’d thrown her a lifeline, still laughing but now with tears streaming down her cheeks. “Lucy. Take a breath, sweetheart. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He ended up lying down with her in his arms, her small fists knotted in the fabric of his T-shirt, his hands stroking her back in a soothing, steady rhythm while she hiccoughed and giggled against his chest. Trying to calm her, he began to hum softly under his breath, after wracking his brain to think of something slow and gentle. Finally, Lucy’s heaving breaths settled, her hiccoughs and giggles fading away.

---