Page 66 of Harper's Holiday Romance
The kiss was slow at first. She moved her lips above mine, so she was sucking my top lip and me her bottom; then Julia opened her mouth to allow me in. I teased my tongue against the inside of her upper lip. She searched desperately for an opening. I felt her desire match mine. The intensity grew as her tongue became more comfortable with mine. She didn’t taste like tequila this time, instead it was salt water on her lips.
I pulled back just enough to mumble, “You’re really good at this.”
“Likewise.”
The wooden beams of the beachfront restaurant resembled a wishbone shape; they were mighty and natural. The roof was made up of hundreds of thick bamboo canes all tightly strung together. The sand-coloured walls along the right served as a backdrop to the cedar wood, linen, and rustic furnishings. The natural materials and earthy colours created a warm and welcoming atmosphere. It was my favourite of the tripso far.
We were seated by the beach at a small wooden table with two bamboo rocking chairs and the most beautiful patterned upholstery. Even the woven floor rug was worthy of a photo. I snapped a few pictures for my own personal use, if ever I was able to afford such luxury.
“This place.” I glared at the ceiling, at the chairs, the bar, it was all immaculately designed, and I felt severely underdressed in my bikini cover-up.
We ordered one of every starter on the menu to try, which sounded extreme, but the menu only had five starters, so it wasn’t unreasonable. We spoke about all the places we’d visited on vacation and our top five bucket list destinations. Mine was hypothetical because writing a bucket list in the past had only ever brought me disappointment. Julia’s favourite state was Florida for several reasons. She adored the sunshine state, with its outrageously beautiful beaches, theme parks, entertainment, golf courses, friendly people, and affordable housing. According to her it was the perfect place to retire.
I told her about Europe, my unconditional love for Italy, and all the things England had to offer. After I reeled off football, which I didn’t even enjoy, the monarchy, which I also didn’t particularly care for, and up to eight extra bank holidays a year, which was the only thing worth celebrating, I didn’t have much else to say. Oh, and the TV shows. I spent twenty minutes trying to cram thirty-five-plus years’ worth ofEastEndersinto one shortened synopsis.
“And Kat Slater was married to Billie?”
“No, Alfie.”
“Who’s Billie married to?”
We decided to park the conversation, and I refrained from even mentioning Coronation Street. That was too much to unpack over lunch.
Julia reached over to hold my hand after the waiter cleared the plates.
Why did this feel so normal?
She planted a quick kiss on the outside of my hand; she didn’t break eye contact as she did it, and my skin orgasmed in response. A rush of tingles covered the surface of my body.
“How are you single?” Julia purred.
I didn’t want to unpack my history. It felt too deep for a holiday romance, but at the same time I wanted her to know me. I wanted Julia Hanlow to see me for me. There was a freedom in knowing our time together was limited. There was a slow growing feeling of sadness too, but I ignored that. I could tell her my deepest darkest secrets, and there would be no consequence. I could unpack the pain and trauma from previous relationships with no repercussion, and that felt liberating.
“I’m extremely high maintenance, demanding, and super controlling,” I joked.
“Oh really?”
“Yes, you should stay clear of me.”
“I’m not sure I believe that.” Julia took a sip of her smoothie; a small dot of green juice remained at the bottom of her lip. I reached over to tenderly wipe it away, and I saw a glimpse of a different world, a different time and place where our relationship could blossom. I imagined a whole other scenario outside of a holiday romance where this perfect woman could be mine, and the connection we’d built didn’t have to be fleeting.
But it did—
Reality. Always. Prevails.
I buried the thought immediately.
“Seriously,” Julia paused. “I’ve only known you a few days, but I can already see how incredible you are.”
“You flatter me.”
I didn’t want to unpack my feelings over green juice with a stranger in Mexico. I came to sunbathe, to eat, to drink, to laugh with my friends, and I found myself face to face with a woman who made me want to talk. She made me feel like anything was possible. I measured the strength of an instant earth-shaking connection in one simple way: would this person help you bury a dead body? I had that connection with my best friends after the first day of knowing each of them. We had a bond. It was unspoken at first, but it was there, and it was powerful.
Did I have that same bond with Julia?
“I think, maybe it goes back to when I was younger.” I said. Nothing good ever started with that sentence. Internally I retreated, but the conversation was ready and waiting.
“I sort of felt like there was nobody out there for me. I grew up dating boys, and I saw those relationships as a failure at first, but now I realise each of them taught me something. My first boyfriend taught me what I didn’t want, or more so what I wouldn’t tolerate. My second taught me how naive I could be and how to understand when someone was trying to manipulate you. My third boyfriend, well, he was the final straw.” I released a nervous laugh.
