Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
I squint.
“How so?”
He shrugs.
“We receive payouts from the resort. In return for letting them build their fancy resort here, they pay us money.”
“You mean, rent?”
“Like rent,” he acknowledges. “They fork over a huge sum each year for the privilege. In return, we ask that they ensure that their guests stay within the boundaries of the resort. We don’t want to mix.”
“Because of your bulges.”
“Yes,” Brax acknowledges, inclining his head. “And for other reasons too. We find it’s better not to engage with tourists because we have different lifestyles and values. The girls appreciate it too.”
“I bet,” I murmur.
“But La Mirage is what it is,” Brax continues. “In my day to day, I’m a fisherman.”
I stare at this handsome man, trying to grapple with this new piece of information and how it fits into his wild, nature-loving personality.
“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” I blurt out. But I’m hardly embarrassed by the confession— there’s truth to my words, and I want Brax to know just how much I like him.
He chuckles with good humor. “The same goes for you, Morgan. I still can’t believe you stumbled onto this island, of all the places in the world.”
I feel my breath catch, in that fluttery way that makes me excited and nervous and eager all at once. I didn’t know if manifesting an incredible man would actually work. And now that he’s here, I don’t know if I could ever stand to leave him.
“Would you… would you ever consider visiting me?” I ask him, searching his face as I speak. “When I leave Mirago and return to New York?”
Brax winces and stares off into the darkness where the sea meets the land.
“I can’t make that promise, Morgan,” he responds quietly.
“I know,” I whisper back, wishing I hadn’t asked the question.
He turns back to look at me, his expression unreadable.
“Let’s focus on tonight,” Brax suggests calmly. “Let’s just enjoy the here and now, okay? I’m having dinner with a beautiful woman who’s charming, gorgeous, and altogether irresistible. What’s not to like?”
I raise my champagne flute and smile as brightly as I can, even though inside, my heart already feels like it’s breaking.
“Of course. To the here and now.”
But is this actually the end of us? A few more days of sun and sand, and then the curtain closes? Tears come to my eyes, even as I smile bravely into the knowing eyes of the man across from me.
9
Morgan
Brax and I somehow hold true to our promise: for the rest of the night, we manage to keep our conversation focused on the present. We banter, we flirt, we laugh. We order a lavish dinner of seafood and local veggies. We share a decadent coconut dessert.
And at the end of the night, we walk hand in hand along a boardwalk, beyond content and teetering toward some stronger emotion.
At least on my end, I admit inwardly. I can only hope he feels the same.
The nearly full moon illuminates the calm water. Occasionally, a wave breaks against the sand. Brax pulls me into the crook of his strong arm, and I rest my head against his chest.
Now that we’ve left the table, however, Brax seems different. Quiet, introspective.
I let him brood, feeling a little sad myself that our night—even though it’s pushing midnight already—is probably coming to an end.
“Morgan,” Brax’s voice is gruff, as if he were controlling some deep emotion.
I look into his deep blue eyes, wishing I could read his mind just this once.
“Yes, Brax?”
“You know that I have to let you go.”
“I know,” I agree softly, my heart in my throat.
I’m surprised by my response. I thought for sure I’d have tears pouring out of my eyes or some sense of disappointment that he won’t come visit me. That this magical night is ending, and with it, whatever could have been.
But instead, I’m resigned. Somehow, I knew that Brax saying these words to me would be the outcome all along. That there is no way that I could dream up a perfect man without there being some hitch to the situation.
“I don’t want to let you go,” Brax continues.
My heart stirs. At least he’s giving me that. “Me neither,” I say breathily.
“But we both know this is how it’s going to be.”
I can only nod against him, unable—and unwilling—to agree.
“The thing is,” Brax says, stroking my hair as we both stare into the dark water in front of us. “I still want you. Damn, I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he grumbles.
My insides tighten at his admission. If one thing has remained true, it’s that I want Brax, too. Even if I only get to enjoy him fully this one time, before we part ways forever.
A romantic island fling that I can look back on when I’m an eighty-year-old spinster.
Brax continues to speak. “I shouldn’t want you because it’s not fair to you. I don’t want you to think that I’m just using your body or…”