My Favorite What If Page 2

  After arranging the flowers and taking a bite of cake before placing it next to the floral arrangement, I lay my head on the cool grave. With no one around, this is the only place I can let it all out. It only takes a few seconds for the sobbing to begin and the pain to release. This is why I couldn’t fly with my family. I needed to get this out of my system before I spend the next week in the land of the lovers.

  CHAPTER 2

  Smitty

  Blinding light hits my eyes and I roll over in bed, my arm covers my head to fight off the brightness. “Rise and shine, Smitty! You leave for paradise in just a few hours.”

  Jules tugs on my sheet. Shit, she followed through, not that I’m surprised. Blinking a few times until my eyes adjust, Jules stands before me with her hands on her hips at the foot of my bed, a frown adorning her face. She motions around the room. “Where is your suitcase?”

  “Um…I was going to pack this morning,” I lie as I get out of bed wearing a pair of basketball shorts.

  “Jacob Smith! We’re leaving in twenty minutes!” She grumbles and walks into my closet. She starts digging through my drawers, but I don’t stick around to watch the madness. I head to the kitchen and wait for the coffee to brew. The clock reads three and I shake my head. What am I doing?

  Carrying my cup of black coffee, I walk back to my bedroom and look into the suitcase. So far everything looks alright—swimsuit, shorts, t-shirts, dress slacks, and dress shirt. Jules came through on her other promise to go to the store for the trip—deodorant, soap, toothpaste, condoms. Wait, condoms?!

  “Julianna, what the hell is this?” I ask, holding up the box of Trojans.

  Not missing a beat, she grabs the box from me and throws it back in the suitcase, zipping it up. “I got everything you could possible need. Soap, toothpaste, Pepto, Pedialyte—”

  “And condoms?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had another preferred method of safe sex,” she quips as she pulls my suitcase off the bed and drags it to my front door.

  “And just who do you think I’ll be having sex with?”

  She shrugs as she walks back to the bedroom and shoves a pile of clothes in my arms. “I don’t know, I don’t care, but you need to get laid. So go to paradise, find some lucky woman, and get some.” I start to protest, but she puts one finger to my lips to silence me. “Smitty, I’m not telling you to find a girlfriend or get married. I’m telling you to forget about things back here for one week. Relax, let loose, have fun. You do remember how to have fun, don’t you?”

  Before I can answer, Jules turns me around and pushes me toward the bathroom. “Five minutes. In and out and we’re on the road, got it?”

  I turn on the shower and wait for the water to warm up. Maybe Jules is right, maybe I do need to get laid. Actually, that’s a fact. It’s not going to be my mission though like Jules is making it sound. I’m going to Jamaica for seven days and I’m going to leave everything behind, just me, the beach, and some Red Stripe beer. That sounds like paradise to me, finding someone to sleep with will just be an added bonus.

  Not even an hour later, I’m checked in and ready for my flight. Walking away from the ticket counter, Jules is pacing back and forth. When I get to her, I grab her by the waist and pull her to me for a hug. “Why are you so nervous?”

  “Smitty, I just… I just want you to be happy,” she confesses.

  I cup her face in both my hands. “It’s going to take time, okay? I’m in a much better place now than I was. I promise I’m working on it.”

  She nods and hugs me again then jumps back. “Shit! I forgot sunscreen!”

  I kiss her forehead. “I’m sure I can get some when I get here.”

  She reaches in her purse and pulls out her iPad. “Take this. I downloaded your favorite movies, including Boondock Saints and now you can at least take a few pictures to prove you actually got on the flight.”

  I laugh. “And you’re worried about being a mom? I think you’ll do just fine.”

  “Shut up,” she mutters, delivering a soft punch to my arm.

  “Love ‘ya too.” I give her another hug and then head through the security line without looking back.

  Sloan

  “Wait! Hold the plane!” I scream at the gate agent trying to shut the door at the end of the walkway. I’m waving my boarding pass in the air like a wild woman. My thin, beige off-the-shoulder long-sleeve shirt falling even further down my arm and my bracelet bangles bouncing up and down.

  The short, middle-aged woman turns around and shakes her head at the sight of me. “You’re lucky the door wasn’t closed,” she snips as she scans my pass.

  I lug my leopard print bag up my arm and kiss her cheek, taking her by surprise. “Thank you, Nancy,” I say, reading her nametag.

  Magically, her frown turns upside down and she nods before she motions for me to enter the walkway. I’m headed to the land of sun and fun, how can anyone be in a bad mood?

  When I step onto the plane, the flight attendant looks at my pass and purses her lips. “Someone has already taken your seat, but we’ll just put you in first class. Will that work?”

  Grinning, I nod. “That sounds fantastic!”

  She leads me to the front of the plane and points to an empty seat. There’s a man with a baseball cap sitting in the aisle chair. I clear my throat, trying to get his attention. I can barely see his face under the cap until he looks up. I can make out his greenish, yellow eyes and his long eyelashes. They are completely mesmerizing and I can’t look away, much less speak. He lifts his eyebrows and I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

  “Sorry, that’s my seat.” I point beside him. “You’re welcome to the window if you’d like.”

  He shrugs, showing a gorgeous smile with only his lips. He sits up, trying to make room for me to squeeze by. “I’m fine here.”

  I step one leg between his legs, holding on to the seat in front of me so I don’t lose my balance. Moving my other leg in the same place, I stumble slightly and his hand grabs my waist to steady me. My stomach flutters at his touch and I force myself to laugh so I can relax.

  It seems like forever, but is actually only a few seconds, and I’m seated, stowing my bag under the seat in front of me. I close my eyes and lean my head back, letting out a long sigh. The flight attendants begin their safety spiel when I feel his hand on me again. My eyes snap open and I glance over at him.

  “You tore your leggings,” he says, his finger lightly touching my skin through the hole.

  I lean forward to inspect, my hand grazing his as I do. He quickly pulls his hand back and I smile to myself. Sitting up, I look at him and shrug. “Oh well, nothing I can do about it now.”

  Those eyes. They catch me in their trap again, but this time I inspect his entire face. He has dark eyebrows with a matching buzzed haircut underneath his worn St. Louis Cardinals hat. A scar on his left cheek gives him a bad boy look and his lips are so full and kissable. Sloan Talbott! I scold myself and laugh internally, but my eyes don’t move away from his.

  He shakes his head. “I’ve never heard a woman be so nonchalant about her clothing before.”

  “I’m sorry. What kind of reaction were you looking for?” I ask, with a raised eyebrow, wondering what kind of women he normally hangs out with.

  His shoulders move up and down. “I’m not sure, but that just wasn’t it.”

  I smile and hold out my hand. “Well, I’m glad I could surprise you. I’m Sloan.”

  He inspects my hand as if afraid I might slap him. Carefully, he takes it and shakes it up and down, setting my bracelets jangling. This feeling deep in the pit of my stomach rumbles and I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling even bigger.

  “Smitty.” Both my eyebrows lift and he shrugs again. “Last name’s Smith.”

  I nod, guess that’s all I’m getting from him. That’s fine, this is vacation where anonymity is preferred. Besides, I don’t need a guy’s full name to flirt. “So Smi
tty, what takes you to Jamaica?”

  “My hon—” he starts to say and stops himself. His honeymoon? I glance at his left hand, but don’t see a ring. “Just a little vacation for some R&R. What about you?” he answers.

  My body turns toward his when I speak. “My little sister is getting married. My family flew down yesterday.”

  I think he grimaces when I mention marriage, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he nods and turns his head away, ending our conversation. Wow, okay then… Not to worry, only a few hours on the plane and then we’ll go our separate ways.

  The plane takes off and I decide I’m going to catch a cat nap. Yawning, I lean my head back and close my eyes. I got absolutely no sleep last night since my sister was texting me from Jamaica, making me double check everything on her wedding to-do list. My eyes are barely closed when the mystery man begins talking.

  “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I… I’m just not a big fan of weddings,” he says, trying to apologize.

  Turning my head in his direction, I nod. “Me either. What resort are you staying at?”

  “Secret Romance.”

  I quickly bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning. “Me too.” I frown. “Guess you’ll have to endure my family’s crazy antics and wedding hoopla.”

  He laughs. “I think I can handle it. My best friend got married last fall and things were a little chaotic to say the least.”

  “Well, you might have to save me from the insanity.” I wiggle my eyebrows, full on flirt mode in swing.

  He nods. “I can probably handle that.”

  That feeling in my stomach earlier drives further between my legs. Whoa, what’s going on? Get it together, Sloan. I smile. “Good to know I can count on you.”

  At that exact moment, the flight attendant walks by with a tray of water and the plane hits turbulence. The cups fly off the platter and land directly in Smitty’s lap, drenching his khaki cargo shorts and his fitted white Hurley shirt. I almost lick my lips at the sight of his muscles under the wet t-shirt.

  Shocked, he tries to stand up, but is restrained by his seatbelt. His jaw clenches and I cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

  Smitty undoes his belt and jumps up, heading to the bathroom while cursing under his breath. The flight attendant’s face is red as she gathers the cups. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Please let your husband know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “He’s not my—” I start to object but another stewardess hovers over her, rushing her away.

  I lean back in my seat and close my eyes again. It’s probably better if I just sleep…

  CHAPTER 3

  Smitty

  “Welcome to Jamaica! Please keep your seatbelts fastened until the captain has turned off the overhead sign,” the flight attendant announces through the speaker, waking me from my cat nap.

  I begin to lift my arms to stretch, but there’s a body resting against my chest… and my arm is around her. Glancing down at Sloan, my lips curve into a smile. She looks at total peace with her honey hair falling over her shoulders. When I came back to my seat, she was passed out. Her head was perpendicular to her neck and it looked extremely awkward and uncomfortable. Trying to save her from a crick in her neck, I raised the armrest and pulled her against me, picked her legs up and placed them over mine. She had no trouble snuggling up to me and I had no problem letting my fingers graze up and down her bare shoulder.

  I take a deep breath, nuzzling my nose in her strawberry-scented hair. This woman is extremely attractive, there’s no doubting that. Her dark brown eyes offset her long blonde hair and her body is tight, undoubtedly from working out. Her arm has a well-defined bicep indicating that she hits the gym regularly. And her smile… it could light up a room, and hell, it made me smile. These days, that’s not an easy feat. But when she didn’t get upset over her torn leggings though, I knew I liked her. She’s obviously a woman who’s confident in herself and doesn’t rely on her looks or materialistic items.

  Of course, I was a bit of a jerk, although she seemed pretty flirty before the cups of water were dumped in my lap. Still, I’d better let her go before she wakes up and thinks I’m a total creep. Slowly, I start to move my arm away from her body, but she reaches up and pulls it tighter around her. I smile and am glad she does this because I’m not ready to let go. This is the closest I’ve been to a woman in over a year. Sure, Jules packed the condoms, but I highly doubt I’ll be doing that this week.

  “The captain has now turned off the fasten seatbelt sign. Please use caution when opening the overhead bins as items may have shifted during our flight.”

  Rubbing Sloan’s arm, I whisper softly, “Hey…we’re here.”

  The sexiest noise comes from where her head is buried in my chest. It’s a low hum and it vibrates against my body, definitely making me not want to let her go. The hum continues as she lifts her arms above her body, stretching, her legs still dangle over mine. Shit, I wonder what she’s going to say when she realizes how wrapped up our bodies are.

  Sloan brings her arms back down to her lap and glances at her legs. “Oh my gosh…I’m so sorry!”

  I push her hair out of her face and laugh. “No worries. You looked pretty uncomfortable when I got back from the bathroom so I was just trying to help out.” That doesn’t sound pathetic, does it?

  “Well, in that case, thank you. That was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” she comments, her legs still on mine and I’m not about to move them away until she does.

  My hand moves to her thigh and touches the sleek, spandex material of her leggings. “Likewise. Guess we both needed some R&R before vacation officially starts.”

  She tosses her hair back as she laughs and finally pulls her legs off of mine. Reaching beneath the seat in front of her, she picks up her bag and stands. My eyes stare at her waistline in front of me and I try to push away the thought of what’s she wearing, or not wearing, under those leggings.

  Around us, other passengers are starting to exit the plane. I step into the aisle and let Sloan out ahead of me, mainly so I can check her out from behind. In the past year, I haven’t paid attention to any women. Maybe it’s the close proximity of Sloan, or possibly that I’ve been celibate for over a year, either way, the urge to grab her and kiss her is overwhelming.

  Moving down the walkway side by side, Sloan is talking and while I’m focused on her mouth, I’m not hearing a single thing that she says. Once in the terminal, she stops and turns to me, her million dollar smile across her face. “Ready to get to Secret Romance?”

  I nod and Sloan wiggles her eyebrows before she wraps her hand above my elbow. Surprised, I glance down at the hold and let her lead us to the baggage claim area. Three pieces of luggage later, only one mine, and we’re on the shuttle to our resort which has a cooler fully stocked with local beer.

  Sloan holds up her bottle of Red Stripe and waits for me to clink my bottle with hers. Once I do, she grins. “To new friends and fun times.”

  I raise the left side of my mouth into a half-smile. “To new times and fun friends,” I toast back with a wink.

  Sloan lets out a soft giggle that burns me to my core and I want to know what other noises I can elicit from her. She takes a long pull from her beer and leans her head back against the seat. She turns her head in my direction where I’m sitting across the aisle from her. I’d much rather be in the seat beside her but since it’s only the two of us on a shuttle bus for twenty passengers, it might seem a bit overkill.

  “Tell me an interesting fact about you.”

  Nervously, I take another drink of my beer to stall. “Um… what do you mean?”

  “I mean, tell me something fun about you… the last country you visited, do you speak any foreign languages, have any secret tattoos…”

  I laugh, relieved she wasn’t asking about my past. I mean, I’m sure I could get a sympathy lay from my past situation, but with Sloan, I’m not sure that’s exactly what I want, which is what scares
me more than anything.

  “Let’s see…last country I visited was Mexico on a guys’ trip, I can cuss and ask where the bathroom is in Spanish and German, and if I told you about my tattoo then it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?” I answer, raising my eyebrow at the end of my statement.

  Sloan narrows her eyes, a smile teasing at her lips. “Guess I’ll have to hope I can find it later.”

  I’m not one to normally blush, but I can feel my cheeks heating up. “So what about you?”

  She begins speaking in a dialect I don’t understand and ends with a giant smile on her face. I shake my head, laughing. “Okay, you got me. The only thing I caught was Italy, I’ll take it as a yes that you speak another language, and I’m assuming you won’t tell me the answer to the tattoo question.”

  Tapping her nose, she says, “Ding, ding ding! Yes, I went to Italy in February, speak French fluently, and you’ll have to wait and see about the tattoo.”

  God, if I didn’t want her before, I certainly do now and I have to will my manhood in my shorts to behave. Standing up, I move across the aisle and take the seat beside her. She leans back, her legs pressed against the seat in front of her. She turns her body slightly to me as I sit down.

  “So tell me more about you, Miss Sloan…” I take a long pull of my beer and settle in for the rest of our journey.

  It only takes about an hour to reach our resort and by the time we arrive, Sloan and I are laughing hysterically at the words to the Big Bamboo song and I’ve learned a little bit more about the woman who has piqued my interest for the first time since the woman who broke my heart left me. Aside from being a fitness instructor and health coach, she practically burns a hole in her passport, traveling out of the country at least three-four times a year. She hasn’t mentioned a word about her past relationships and I think it’s probably because she can sense I don’t want to talk about mine.