Heaven in Hedonism (The Sinful Series Book 3) (7 page)

“Sounds lovely. So, I ask again, whatcha doing?” There was an edge to her voice, as if she was already losing patience with my antics.

Sighing, I responded, “I’m headed to a spa for the royal treatment.” Then I waited for her to respond, to tease me, to make me feel guilty because she wasn’t with me.

“Oh, sounds wonderful. I’m just lying in bed, snuggling my babies.”

There it was. I knew it. Bed. “Sounds relaxing,” I agreed.

“It is. Next time you need to relax, come hang out with my babies. They are magical little stress relievers.” She sighed happily.

“Huh. I thought babies created stress,” I joked.

“Not mine. Perfect, remember?” She laughed.

“Of course they are.  So maybe I should just have one of my own.” There was a brief ache in my chest that I refused to acknowledge. “Well, I’m here, so let me go. I’ll call from Jamaica.” Honestly, I had ten more minutes in the car, but I couldn’t handle talking to her at the moment.

“You bet. Talk to you soon.”

Thus ended our last conversation before I flew off to Hedonism. Part of me worried that Sin and I would grow apart. Here she was a wife and mother while I was still single and lonely. Being around her only made me feel more single and lonely. How could our friendship survive that? For a moment, I tried to consider my life without her. It was impossible. We had been intertwined for too many years. She wasn’t trying to be happy to make me miserable, she was simply genuinely happy. Somehow, I would cope. I’d get through it. I’d accept my fate and embrace my life as it was. Maybe that was the best I could hope for. I’d even learn to enjoy afternoons at the spa. How hard could it be?

Bolstering myself, I parked the truck and headed into the spa. The facial, mani, pedi, and salt scrub body treatment would make me feel much better, I hoped. Supposedly, it was better to look good than feel good. I’d take what I could get. Check-in was quick and painless. I was offered water or tea and opted for water. Let’s face it, there was no way the spa would allow me the amount of sugar I would need to make the drink palatable.

Before long, an esthetician was calling my name and bringing me into the depths of the building. As far as I could tell, it was a pretty standard spa experience with the exception of the products being natural. If pressed, I would have to admit it did make the place smell better when compared to those that offered chemical options. Getting undressed had never bothered me. Soon, I had a locker and a bathrobe. Incidentally, I loved bathrobes. Then I was brought to have my facial. It was a ninety-minute one, far longer than any previous. If that didn’t make me gorgeous, nothing would. I tried to let my mind relax while I lay there and listened to the woman tell me how beautiful my skin was. I never placed too much stock in compliments from people looking for a tip. My next treatment was the salt scrub. Gah, there was nothing I could do at home to make me feel this amazing. If Mac didn’t touch me, he was really going to miss out. A smile spread as I considered what his hands on my bare skin might feel like. Then a shiver ran through me.

“Too cold?” the esthetician asked as she rinsed me.

My face grew warm and I knew a blush filled my cheeks. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

My last two treatments were for the mani and pedi. Luckily, I wasn’t tortured by having some tech who was determined to make conversation. For the time, I wanted to be completely lost in thought. I needed to consider everything that was happening over the next week. I really had to get my game face on and psych myself up for this experience. As much as I wanted it, nothing about it felt natural.

Finally, I was done, and the afternoon was gone. I paid and generously tipped before heading back to my apartment. It was a good twenty-minute drive. By the time I made it back, I only had a few minutes to grab and fold the clothes I needed from the dryer before Mac arrived. Seemed perfect. If I had longer, I would’ve only gotten myself all worked up.

After parking in my assigned spot, I walked up the flight of stairs to my second floor apartment. Reaching the door, I unlocked it and walked directly into the laundry room. Grabbing out a few of my favorite outfits, I folded them while I walked. Laying them neatly in the suitcase still open on my bed, I secured them within before zipping it closed.

Then I peeled off my spa clothes and threw them into the empty basket in the bottom of my closet. The clock on the wall reminded me I had less than five minutes until Mac was supposed to be here. A moment later, I had pulled up the maxi skirt and had smoothed the tank top when there was a knock on my door. Fuck. I peeked at myself in the bathroom mirror.

“Just a minute!” I called. I wanted to spritz myself with some perfume and make my lips totally kissable with a clear gloss before I faced him.

Before he could knock again, I had hauled the suitcase off the bed and grabbed the carry-on. Slowly, carefully, I made my way to the door. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the handle. This was it.

Opening the door, it was just as I expected. There was Mac looking adorable and gorgeous and desirable all over again.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said confidently. “Ready to go?”

It felt like a loaded question. Was I ready to go? Smiling nervously, I finally managed to utter the words that would seal my fate. “Let’s do this.”

Though I turned to pick up my bags, Mac brushed my hands away. “I’ve got these,” he said. “Now, you remembered to pack your birth certificate and passport in your purse, right?”

This guy had no idea how much traveling I had done. Hell, Sin and I could have written books on at least fifteen countries through the years. We’d spent three months in Costa Rica once. Still, we didn’t need to start the trip with a fight, so I looked at him blandly. “Yup.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend you,” he mumbled. Then, as soon as we walked out the door, he brightened. “Tell me you like sushi.” His eyes sparkled and he practically shined with excitement.

“Of course I do.” Part of me wanted to make some smart remark, but I held back. This trip was really important to me. How it all played out really mattered to me, to my future. Though I couldn’t explain why if pressed, something in me just knew it.

We walked down the stairs together. Those muscles he kept so well hidden beneath his computer geek exterior were really coming in handy. He didn’t seem to be struggling at all. When we reached the parking lot there was a limousine waiting for us.

“What the hell?” I asked while gesturing to the driver. The words just kind of slipped out. I had little experience with holding back. Who did I have to impress? Sin never cared if I cursed.

Mac laughed. “Suitcases don’t really fit in the Cooper.” He reminded me.

Instantly, I felt stupid. “I knew that. I just didn’t expect to see a limo.”

Passing my luggage to the driver, he turned and laid his hands on my shoulders. “I figured it’d be nice not dealing with parking issues for dinner or at the airport. This will make it so much more fun.” Then he gestured for me to get in the vehicle.

There hadn’t been a lot of reasons for me to ride in a limo. Sin and I had a girl night instead of going to the junior or senior prom. Sure, she’d been asked. She just wasn’t going to do any of that without me. Sin had always been an awesome friend. When I would worry about her reputation, she would remind me none of this mattered, but our friendship always would. No wonder I loved her so much. As I reminisced, I must have been fidgeting. Suddenly, Mac’s hand was on my thigh, just above my knee. I stared at it there a moment before looking up at his face.

He was just staring back, smiling warmly. No ulterior motive was evident in his gaze. “Relax,” he said calmly. “We’re going to have an amazing time. Promise.”

Nodding, I leaned my head back and tried to channel some kind of peace. I knew I should have gone for a massage. Maybe that Zen chick was right. An hour floating might have really been what I needed. He hadn’t even noticed my toes.

“Did you get a pedicure today? Your toes look so pretty,” he said happily. Then he smiled at me.

Something happened inside. I think that ice around my heart started to melt. Oh, and the heat that was generated was coloring my cheeks. Looking out the window, I mumbled, “Eh, I had some time to kill.” I whipped around in my seat when he grabbed my hand. My jaw snapped shut when I realized he was just admiring my manicure. He hadn’t missed a thing.

“You look beautiful,” he said sincerely. “Look at me with the arm candy.” Then he stretched and threw an arm around my shoulder. His hand rubbed up and down my skin. “Damn, you’re soft.” He crushed me against him a moment before he took his limb back. “Too good. Too much,” he muttered.

Before I could say anything, the glass partition came down. “We’ve arrived at the restaurant, Mr. MacIntyre.”

“Thank you,” he responded in his most professional voice.

Moments later, the door opened and Mac stepped out. He turned immediately and offered me his hand. When I grabbed it, something felt different. It had me thinking of Tom Hanks in
Sleepless in Seattle
. While his touch couldn’t be described as home, there was something very comforting about it, something so natural that when I stood, lacing my fingers through his just made sense. He gave me a squeeze, as if he was trying to make certain I wanted to hold hands. For the first time all day, I was calm. Confidently, I squeezed his back and marveled at his magical touch.

An hour and a half later we were seated in the back of the limo, headed to the airport. “I hope we can get through security quickly,” he commented. “I hate lines.”

“This is the only time I do them,” I acknowledged.

Turning to face me, he said in complete disbelief, “Impossible. There are places that lines are simply unavoidable.”

I scrunched up my face to contemplate a moment. It wasn’t my intention to lie. After a good thirty seconds of silence, I finally admitted, “Nope. I can’t think of a situation.”

“Concerts,” he offered in challenge.

Shaking my head, I said, “Never. I go, but I’ve never had to stand in a line. I come with tickets. I show them. I walk in.”

“Concession stands!”

Laughing, I responded, “Nah. I eat before I go.”

Cocking his head to the side, he seemed to be considering other locations. “Clubs?”

“Bahaha! No. I only went clubbing with Sin. Does she look like someone who has ever had to wait to get in?”

Nodding, he admitted, “Good point.” His finger rose. “I’ve got it. Grocery shopping.”

“If I need to get a lot, I order online and pull up. I don’t even go inside.” I leaned over and smiled at him. “This is fun.”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself. Banks?” He looked almost defeated.

“Online banking, baby. I’m not sure I even know where a branch is.” Leaning back, I folded my hands behind my head. “Go on. Keep trying.” I teased.

Mac studied me. There was a warmth in his eyes I hadn’t noticed before. It made me wish we had a closer relationship, and I could just bury myself in his neck, inhale his scent, and lie in his arms all night. “You never cease to amaze me, Jolie,” he murmured.

The partition came down once more. “Which airline are you flying? We’ve arrived at the airport and I need to know where to drop you off.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said as I dug through my purse and pulled out the tickets I had printed off the computer in my apartment. “Looks like US Air. Thank you!”

Soon enough, we were stopping beside a curb and Mac had stepped out of the vehicle. This time, he walked around to my door and opened it for me. Again I was offered a hand. It was way too easy to grow accustomed to his kind words, his gentle gestures. After a week, I’d be mush. I’d have no backbone at all. The man was making me soft.

“Be prepared for lines,” Mac warned as we walked into the airport terminal.

Shaking my head, I said confidently, “Not this time of night.”

Then he offered me his arm and my stomach flopped around. I figured I’d be an idiot not to hold onto him since I was suddenly feeling all weak-kneed. It was strange because I was an excellent traveler. So, I hooked my arm though his and let him lead me around like the helpless female he was probably used to.

We walked in and discovered there really weren’t any lines. Ha! I pulled my arm from his long enough to get my license out of my purse. I passed him his ticket. As I did so, he stopped me.

“Wait. Jolie isn’t your name?” he asked.

Immediately, I knew he had seen the H. Though I had never rid myself of it completely because my mother went to the trouble of naming me after some relative she loved, I did trim it down a bit. Now on all legal documents, I was H. Jolie Ward. It was easier. It felt more like me. “Yup, your turn,” I mumbled and shoved him toward the waiting agent.

“You think you know a person,” he joked as he walked away.

Seconds later, I was standing in front of the agent beside him. It was all going very smoothly until he started in. “I think you should make her tell you what the ‘H’ in her name stands for,” he said almost giddily. “For all you know, it could be Habib, or Houssein! She may be a terrorist sneaking on a plane.”

“Oh my God! Did you just say that? We’re going to get thrown off this plane. You can’t even joke about that stuff around TSA!” I was trying to keep my voice down, but I could feel myself getting all prickly. My name was a sensitive enough topic.

“See, short temper. She could be very dangerous.” He smirked.

“If I get to Jamaica, I’m going to make your life hell,” I warned.

“You flagged her in the computer, right?” he asked. “I mean, she should probably at least be frisked. Maybe she needs a full body cavity search.”

Luckily, the women checking us in seemed to understand he was just joking. “I’m sorry. He’s not used to getting out. Can’t control himself. I’ll be careful to make sure he takes his meds before we get on the plane.” I looked over at him and glared.

“Have fun,” the woman behind the counter said when she handed me my ticket. “And try to behave yourselves. Where are you going anyway?”

“Hedonism,” I responded, with an arched brow.

Her head rolled back in laughter. “Well, then you don’t have to worry about behaving yourselves. Perfect.”

Then we were off to security. It was only a bit slower and my night was made when Mac was pulled aside. The guard gave him a serious pat down.

“I feel completely violated,” he mumbled as we walked toward the gate.

“Behave yourself or I’ll be giving you the Blue Glove treatment,” I teased. “I think that will be my threat for you from now on. I’ll carry one or two in my purse at all times and just snap it here or there to keep you in line.” I sighed happily as I imagined the fun I could have.

“Wow. I can actually see the wheels spinning in your head. You’re a little bit scary sometimes.” He laughed.

We walked through the terminal slowly, knowing we still had a good hour to kill. “Let’s go in there,” he remarked, pointing toward a bakery.

So, we veered into Just Desserts. The scents beckoned me like a siren’s call. “What are we doing here?” I loved bakeries. The problem I had with them was mainly that I wanted everything. And I don’t mean that I couldn’t decide between two or three items. Instead, I wanted to buy one of each. The bigger issue was that I could totally afford to do that. Mostly, I avoided going altogether because of it.

“We need supplies,” he said without even pausing to look at me.

Since he had pointed the store out, he hadn’t taken his eyes off the cupcakes, to the extent that I was nearly jealous. Yes, I was completely irrationally annoyed by the attentions those bakery goods were receiving. Fuck.

“Pick,” he ordered.

Shaking my head, I pleaded, “Don’t make me.”

“You have to,” he muttered. “I can’t. I’m powerless. Whatever you want. Order it. We’ll take it with us. Plane food sucks.”

“Can we do that?” I asked the woman behind the counter, who seemed to be laughing at us. She nodded in response. “And how long are they good for?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “they lose their freshness after a day or so. You know how bakery goods are.”

Shaking my head, I struggled to explain. “No, I don’t know. Nothing has ever lasted long enough around me to ever get stale.”

“Get out,” Mac managed as he punched me in the shoulder. “I’m the same way!”

Covering my face, I thought about how dangerous this situation could be. “So what would you like?” the woman asked. When I glanced at her, she was beaming. No doubt, we’d be the biggest sale of the night.

“I need one Lemon Drop cupcake, one Chocolate Fudge.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mac shaking his head. “Make that two Chocolate Fudge.” He shook his head again. “Three?” I asked. He nodded. “I need one Strawberry Patch.” He lifted a finger. “I meant two,” I laughed. “Do I need any Red Velvet?” I asked him.

“Yes, she needs one Red Velvet, one Carrot Cake. Oh, we’ll need two of the sour cream coffee cakes.” I jabbed him in the shoulder. “More?” he asked.

“Why coffee cakes?” I asked.

“Breakfast. It could be horrible on the plane,” he explained.

“Oh, good thinking. Make it four.”

By the time we were done, we had a grocery-sized bag of goodies to walk around with. “People are staring,” I complained.

“They are just jealous, love.” At the moment, I was busy sharing one of the Chocolate Fudge cupcakes with him. “In my mouth,” he moaned. “More. Faster.”

“You’re bossy,” I noted.

“Well, I am a boss.” He reminded me. “Hell, I’m even your boss.”

“Now I just feel dirty.” Without another word, I popped the rest of the cupcake into my mouth. “Sorry, dude. I need this more than you.”

He laughed. “Okay, which one shall we eat next? Red Velvet?”

“You’re on your own with that. I never eat them. It’s like biting into bleeding chocolate. I just can’t do it.” I stuck my tongue out and made a gagging noise for emphasis.

“You’re serious.” He looked at me wide eyed. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”

“Pshaw! Fear has nothing to do with it. I’m grossed out. And I always feel so betrayed. Chocolate should be brown.” I crossed my arms over my chest.