Beautiful Sacrifice (27 page)

I dragged ass all morning, as expected. I was mostly exhausted but also devastated that my intent was lost in the misery we were both in. Still, I had started this mess, and I wasn’t about to waffle until Taylor could make the decision for himself.

Just after the breakfast rush, my phone buzzed in my apron. I rushed around the bar to check it, knowing it was Taylor.

Day Five. Please respond. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry about last night. I guess technically it was this morning. I’m sitting here in the airport. Just got off the phone with Dad. He made a lot of good points that I need to talk to you about. I’ll be in Eakins by tonight. Please go to St. Thomas. I’ll sleep on the floor if you want. My head is pounding, and I feel like shit, but I wish I felt worse even though I couldn’t feel much worse. I want to see you and hold you so bad I’m going nuts. All I can think about is seeing you. No, don’t respond. I’m afraid of what you’ll say. Just please be there.

I ran my index finger along the edges of the phone case, wondering which of his instructions I should follow. Guilt bled from his message, making my guts wrench.

Why did trying to do the right thing end up being so god-awful for us both?

It was just a break, just a week to think about our future, and we were both torn to pieces.

The air was so thick when I stepped off the airplane that it felt as if I were wearing it, choking on it, and walking through it. A layer of sweat instantly formed on my skin even though I was wearing shorts and a light blouse.

I readjusted my bag over my shoulder, descended the stairs set outside the plane’s front exit, and paused once my feet hit the tarmac. St. Thomas was breathtaking for more reasons than its palpable air. The landscape was full of lush forests with mountains in the distance and palm trees just beyond the concrete.

I pulled out my phone, shooting Taylor a quick text that I’d landed.

He sent a ♥ in reply but nothing else.

The passengers strode in a single-file line to the terminal where we meshed with other travelers until reconvening at baggage claim. I noticed a man standing near the exit, holding a sign with my name on it.

That hadn’t happened since I lived with my parents.

“Hi,” I said, confused. “I’m Falyn Fairchild.”

The man’s mouth broke into a bright white grin, a steep contrast with his ebony skin. “Yes! Come with me! Just the one bag?” he asked in a heavy accent, holding out his hand for my bag.

“Who ordered the car?”

“Uh”—he looked down at a paper in his other hand—“Taylor Mad Dox.”

“Taylor Maddox?” I said, my surprise making me unintentionally correct him by emphasizing the
ix
pronunciation at the end.

Shock quickly evolved into suspicion. Taylor was either trying very hard to get me back—or for some reason, he was in full groveling mode.

I handed the man my bag, silently scolding myself. Taylor had secured me transportation to the hotel, and I was thinking the worst. He just wanted to make sure I was safe because he couldn’t make it to the airport himself.

The driver’s steering wheel was on the left side, but we drove on the left side of the road. It took me a while not to panic every time he turned onto a road with oncoming traffic, thinking he was in the wrong lane.

After hills and many, many curvy roads, we finally reached the security gate of The Ritz-Carlton hotel. The driver parked under the covered lobby entrance, and he quickly hopped out to open my door. I stepped out and swallowed hard. The days when I’d stayed in hotels like the Ritz seemed like a lifetime ago.

The light stucco and Spanish-tiled roof as well as the vegetation were impeccably maintained. I returned the smile and wave of a man high in a palm tree, removing coconuts.

The driver handed me my bag, and I opened my purse.

“No, no. It’s all been taken care of.”

I held out a ten-dollar bill. “But your tip?”

He waved me away with a smile. “Taken care of, madam. Enjoy your stay.”

He drove away, and I wandered inside, overwhelmed by the spectacular lobby. I spotted Taylor right away. He was sitting in a chair with his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands together, while his knee nervously bobbed up and down.

Before I could take another step, he looked up, and a dozen emotions scrolled across his face. He popped up out of his chair and jogged over to me, nearly knocking me over before enveloping me into a hug. I’d never felt so loved and wanted in my life.

“You’re here. Thank Christ,” he said, overwhelmed with relief. He tugged at me with gentle small squeezes, burying his face into my hair.

When he finally released me, I could see that my earlier suspicions weren’t ridiculous after all. His face was weighed down with something, the humidity not the only thing making him sweat.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to sound as wary as I felt.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He hugged me and then kissed my forehead, leaving his lips against my skin for a moment longer. Then he took my bag. “We’re in building five, Club Level, with an ocean view.” He smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes.

“Club Level?”

“I upgraded. We’re in the same tower as Travis and Abby. The room is incredible. I can’t wait for you to see it.” He gestured for me to follow him outside where a man in a golf cart was waiting.

We sat together in the backseat, jerking when the driver stomped on the gas. Taylor looked over at me, both relief and admiration in his eyes. The golf cart sped along the narrow road for at least two minutes before we reached our building. Taylor didn’t speak again even though he looked like he wanted to.

The driver parked and carried my bag across the road and down a stone walk. We passed doors that led to rooms, moving to the side whenever a couple or family would step out, carrying beach bags, towels, or cameras. We ascended a few stairs, and then I followed the men to the room I would share with Taylor.

That thought made me suddenly nervous. We weren’t technically together even though it seemed all was well. An important conversation was inevitable, and I wondered if Taylor wanted to get that out of the way now or if he would keep me waiting all weekend.

Taylor took my bag, tipped our driver, and then used his key card to open the door. Fresh flowery smells filled my nose, and my sandals clicked against the tiled floor. The white linen and light décor was sophisticated but cozy, and directly in front of where we stood was a large sliding glass door, the curtains pulled back to expose the full beauty of the Caribbean Sea.

I dropped my bag. “Oh my God,” I said, my feet carrying me straight for the door.

Taylor beat me there, sliding open the glass.

I stepped out, hearing songbirds and watching the fronds of the palm trees dance with the breeze that were wafting the smells of the ocean to our balcony. The private beach of the Ritz-Carlton was lined with beach loungers, umbrellas, Hobie Cats, and paddleboats. An impressive sailboat was docked not two hundred yards from swimmers, white paint proudly marking its name,
Lady Lyndsey
.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anything this beautiful before in person,” I said, shaking my head in awe.

“I have,” Taylor said.

From the corner of my eye, I could see him staring at me. I turned to him, letting his milk-chocolate eyes take in every detail of my face.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I was worried. For several days.”

“I told you I’d come. You bought the ticket. I wasn’t going to stand you up.”

“After the other night—”

“You drunk-texted me. There are worse things—like torture, for instance.”

A crease formed between his brows. “It’s been a long week. I think I fell in love with you more every day. I guess there’s some truth to that saying.”

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Yeah, and so does thinking you’ve lost the woman you’re crazy in love with. When I was alone and even when I wasn’t, I said some pretty awful things about you in my head, Falyn. I take them all back.”

I wondered what his crew and even his brother must think about me. I could only imagine what he’d said out of frustration.

“I didn’t dump you. We took a break, so you could think about something important.”

He blinked. “So … we weren’t … we’re still together,” he said more to himself than a question. All the color drained from his face, and he backed away from me, sitting down hard in a wicker chair.

“I wasn’t clear. Either way, it wasn’t fair. It was stupid and cruel, and … I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “You don’t apologize. You definitely shouldn’t apologize for this.”

I sat next to him. “What I did was shitty, no matter my line of thinking or my intentions. I’m just lucky you love me and that you’re more patient than you let on.”

He stared at the floor and then smiled up at me. “Let’s just pretend last week never happened. Fade out last Friday. Fade in the moment I saw you in the lobby.” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “I thought about it like you asked, and I don’t feel any differently than the night I left.”

“You’re sure?”

He exhaled like the wind had been knocked out of him. “More now than ever.”

“Maybe it was a good thing then? The break?”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, pushing the table between us back and pulling my chair closer to him. “But there’s not a doubt in my mind about how much you mean to me. You’re the last woman I ever want to touch.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to shake the guilt. “I just meant I should have listened to you. You were right about me trying to force it, and even though I didn’t realize it, I was probably trying to push you away. I don’t want you to leave me even if that makes me selfish.”

I leaned in, pressing my lips to his, and I sighed as he wrapped his arms around me.

“It doesn’t make you selfish, Falyn. I’m the selfish one. Jesus, I’m sorry, too. I just want to forget about it, okay? Can we do that? It’s just you and me. Nothing else matters.”

As he held me in his arms, the world was right again. I was never so glad to be wrong.

He pulled away with a frown. “I have to get around. The guys are all in Shep’s room, getting ready.” He stood up, leading me back into the room by the hand.

I sat on the end of the bed, watching as he opened the closet and pulled out a plastic-covered tux. He held it up, shrugging. “America insisted we go traditional.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in that.”

“Fresh towels are in the bathroom if you want to take a shower before the ceremony. I’ve already had one, and I feel like I need another one.”

“Maybe you should take one with me?” I said, arching an eyebrow.

He dropped the tux and rushed to kneel next to me. “We’re okay, right?”

I nodded.

He planted a kiss on my lips. When he pulled away, disappointment flashed in his eyes. “I wish I could. The ceremony is in the gazebo on the beach. Just around the corner and down the stairs.”

“See you in ninety minutes,” I said, waving to him as he walked backward through the door.

When the door closed, I slipped off my sandals and padded across the tiles to the cold marble floor of the bathroom. The quiet allowed me enough time to think about my awkward reunion with Taylor, and a lump formed in my throat. Colorado Springs was a thousand miles away, and I couldn’t seem to hide from the guilt. Instead of seeing it in my reflection in the mirror, it had been in Taylor’s eyes.

As glad as I was to see him and to know that he wanted me despite the knowledge that we would never have children, something still felt off. So many questions crowded my mind. Maybe I had hurt him beyond repair. Maybe what I had done to him changed him. Maybe it had changed us.

My shirt stuck to my damp skin as I lifted the bottom hem. The air was so thick that it still covered me, even after I peeled off my clothes.

I tried not to cry while in the shower, scolding myself for finding a way to be melancholy while in a marble bathroom under a shower with high water pressure instead of the antique plumbing in the loft. After a while, I reasoned that my face was wet anyway, and I was alone, so I might as well get it out of my system.

So, I cried. I cried for Olive, for my parents, for what I’d done to Taylor. I cried for not being content before, and I cried because I knew we couldn’t get that back. Being the first woman Taylor loved, I had no idea what it must have taken him to admit it to himself—or me. I had destroyed that trust, seemingly for no reason. I cried because I was angry. And then I cried for crying on a beautiful tropical island in a five-star resort.

When I was all cried out, I washed, rinsed, and pulled on the lever, the stream of water disappearing as if it were never there, just like a Caribbean rain shower.

I wrapped the fluffiest white towel I’d ever touched around my chest and stepped out, wiping the moisture from the mirror.

There I was, a blurry mess, but this time, I had puffy red eyes. “Shit.” I quickly wet a rag with cold water and held it against my eyes.

When they looked almost back to normal, I combed out my wet hair and then used the hotel blow-dryer. The ceremony was in forty-five minutes. I had taken longer in the shower than I’d meant to.