be fine with that.
But…something was missing between me and Em. Something that used to be there. And I wanted it back.
I wanted the Emzee who seemed to be falling for me, who delighted in sharing in my adventures as well as savoring quiet cups of coffee and comfortable silences while Munchkin snoozed between us on the couch. The snarky, witty, down-for-whatever Emzee.
I wanted the Emzee whose big, sparkling laugh surprised me every time it came out of her usually serious little body. It was a reminder that no matter how much of an overthinker she tended to be, she could also roll with the punches. In fact, now that I thought about it, I realized she thrived in unexpected situations and moments of crisis.
It occurred to me that this strength might actually be the silver lining to her family life being so off-kilter. Not just recently, either. It had always been that way.
Growing up, she’d had to constantly adjust to her father’s ever-expanding list of demands and expectations; I’d heard plenty of stories about how she’d been sent to etiquette lessons as a child, trained to speak and act a certain way, all kinds of pressure heaped on her small shoulders and made even more overwhelming thanks to the fact that her mom had died when she was a baby and her father was chronically absent—running his criminal empire, no doubt, though of course she hadn’t known that at the time.
But just look at how beautifully she performed under pressure now. Case in point, when I had sprung this fake relationship—and then a surprise engagement—on her. Every time, she’d played along in front of friends and family without batting an eye. To the point that she almost had me fooled into thinking she loved me right before our fake wedding.
Almost.
It was obvious that her confidence blossomed whenever she took on new roles. Sure, she might be hesitant at first, but more often than not, I would bet she even surprised herself to find how capable she was. It was like the stress brought out a completely different side of her. She just needed a challenge to rise to.
Huh.
Maybe I’d just found the answer to my problem.
Sinking onto the cloud-like cushions of the couch, I grabbed the complimentary island guidebook off the coffee table and started flipping through it, hoping for inspiration.
I found it under the “Hotel Activities” section.
Windsurfing.
Phillipe was more than happy to make arrangements for us, and I also had him place an order for a hot breakfast to be brought to our villa right away.
Then I woke Emzee up. Her innocent eyes blinked at me drowsily as I told her the plan.
“I don’t know anything about windsurfing,” she said.
“Me neither,” I said. “We’ll fumble through it together. And if we fail, we’ll fail spectacularly. Phillipe already reserved us a spot, and he’s meeting us in the lobby after we eat.”
“Eat what?” she asked, suddenly a whole lot more awake.
My little foodie. “It’s a surprise,” I said. “I requested a hot breakfast for two.”
Having your own personal, round-the-clock concierge, it turned out, was not too shabby at all. The cart that arrived while we were getting showered and dressed held a pot of strong coffee, a carafe of fresh-squeezed orange juice, savory prosciutto and Gruyère cheese crepes, sliced mango, and a side of poached eggs. It was the perfect combination of light and filling to get us ready for the day’s activities.
As we headed to the hotel lobby, swimsuits under our clothes, I couldn’t help staring at Emzee’s hips and ass as she walked in front of me. She’d nearly killed me with that fucking striptease the other day. I thought I’d been so clever taking us to a nude beach, but I hadn’t considered how it might backfire. And backfire it had.
Her sexy black suit was bad enough—it didn’t reveal anything, but it didn’t cover much either. It was like a basic black one-piece that had been shredded by Wolverine, clinging to Emzee’s mouthwatering curves so good that it had taken all the baseball statistics I knew—reciting them over and over in my head—in order to keep from completely embarrassing myself on a public nude beach with a massive hard-on for my wife.
I’d just about had it under control, but then Emzee tossed her hat on the towel and began the longest, most agonizing striptease I’d ever seen in my life. Watching her flash those perfect, lush tits before sliding the suit down to expose the rest of