Page 80 of Away With You
“Nathan, hold on!” I hop on one foot, trying to buckle my sandal and not face plant at the same time.Tricky.“What’s the rush?”
We’ve spent the better part of the day in sloth-like slow motion, moving only when necessary, generally in search of food. And now it’s approaching sunset, and Nathan has a sudden sense of urgency to get moving that is perplexing.
He glances at his watch and smiles. “There’s no real rush, I’m just excited, is all.”
My belly flips at his expression. Open, warm and filled with admiration. As it has been since our quiet declaration of interest to each other out on the over-water hammock earlier today. Ever since I agreed to behis—cue all the butterflies—he’s been like a kid in a sweet shop. Or like me in a chocolate store. Brimming with so much obvious joy, my heart and my ego want to revel in it.
It's so contagious, I’ve almost managed to forget his drunken confession: “I’ll never get over it.”
Almost, but not quite.
“Where are we going?” I ask for the third time, pushing my doubts down and living in the moment. I trot behind him as I fasten my hair into a low ponytail. My mop has been saltwater and man-handled, tangled all day, and Nathan isn’t giving me enough time to condition, treat and blow dry the masses properly. So up in a ponytail it all goes, where with any luck, it will stay.
“It’s a surprise,” he replies, taking my hand and tugging me forward. The momentum lunges me into his broad chest, and I land with a thud, happy to stay resting here as he wraps me in a delicious hug.
“Another surprise, hey?” I murmur into the soft, Nathan-scented material of his shirt.Hmmm, yummy.
His lips brush my temple, and he steps back, tugging me along with a wink of his dimple. “I enjoy surprising you,” he admits as we leave our bungalow haven and enter the warm evening air. At this time of the day, with the glaring sun sinking beyond the horizon, the temperature dips, and it’s like being embraced in a perfectly balmy hug.
Gosh, I love it here.
I follow along beside him, giving up getting any further information from him as we approach our waiting golf buggy. It makes him happy to keep me guessing, and knowing Nathan as I now do, it’s safe to assume I’m going to love any surprise he has for me.
“Sit back and enjoy the ride,” he tells me with a wink, and I follow his instructions, sinking in close to him and sighing as his arm wraps around my shoulder to hold me close. I’ve never been an overly touchy person. And since my mum passed, I’ve given and received affection only from Jade and, on the rare occasion, Nuke. But it seems with this man, I can’t get enough. I can’t get close enough to him. And from the way his hand tightens around my body, I think he feels the same.
I’m choosing to believe he feels the same.
“We’re here,” Nathan says as we pull to a stop several quick minutes later.
‘Here’ appears to be some sort of food festival set up along the beach. From our spot just outside the buggy, I spy rows of market stalls lining the edge of the sand, with food trucks and plastic tables and chairs laid out just beyond that. Up ahead is a large stage where a steel drum band is setting up, surrounded by stunning women dressed in traditional Caribbean costume. The entire place is an assault on all my senses, and I can’t decide what I want to explore first.
The food trucks seem like a safe bet, though.
“Come on!”
Nathan drags me along, but I lag behind, my gaze darting here, there and everywhere. There’s so much rich culture and colour and light everywhere; I’m thrilled to be a part of it.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” I say as I tug on Nathan’s hand to slow him down. “I would have hated to return home not having experienced this.”
He stops and turns to me, his big hands framing my face as his gaze traces over my features, like he wants to memorise them. “I know what you mean,” he murmurs as he brushes his lips over mine.Oh, I could get used to these gorgeous little kisses.“Whenever I travel, I have this need to see beyond the fancy hotels and the tourist traps. Have a look around you. This is where the people who live in St. Lucia want to spend their Thursday night. We’re experiencing a slice of their lives.”
His words pull at me because that’s exactly how I’m feeling right now. I’m grateful to see their culture in a way they live it, and I’m even more grateful he brought me here to experience it.
“Thank you. This is a wonderful surprise.”
“There’s more.” He grins and turns back around like a man on a mission. “Come with me.”
He marches us through the row of sand sandwiched on either side by market stalls, selling everything from homemade jewellery to candles, and everything in between. If Nathan wasn’t so determined to take me ‘somewhere,’ I’d be stopping at each one of them.
“Here we are,” he says, coming to a halt at last.
My eyes drift from the nearby stall selling customised perfumes and oils to the stall he’s brought us to.
“Oh, wow,” I whisper, my throat tight with tears. “Wow.”
I’m almost speechless as I stare down at the table in front of us. It’s filled to the brim with only one thing. Snow globes.
“You remembered,” I say, leaning over to get a better look at them. There are well over one hundred snow globes lined up on the table, each one unique and absolutely exquisite.
