Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2) (18 page)

“There’s more?”

“Well, you don’t think I’m keeping you here for three weeks? You’d freeze.”

I laughed a giddy, happy laugh, nearly clapping my hands together like a child, as I leaned forward to watch the scenery grow bigger and bigger. It was someplace I’d never even imagined going.

“Why Iceland?” I asked, looking out at the vast mountains.

“Well, it’s simple really. I used logic when picking all the destinations for this trip. You have your Someday List. You created it and believed that, someday, if you ever got out of the hospital, you’d accomplish all these things to make you
normal,
and I think we’ve been doing a damn good job of knocking some things off of that list—even if we’ve waned in our attempt recently. But for this trip, I didn’t want you to feel normal. We can go back to finding you a mortgage or flagging down taxis when we get back. There will be nothing normal about this trip. For the next three weeks, we’re going crazy.”

“Starting with a trip to Iceland,” I stated excitedly.

“Yeah. Why not? How many people do you know who have been to Iceland?”

“None.”

“Exactly. Get ready, Lailah. For the next few days, we’re exploring the land of fire and ice.”

Iceland was well named.

As soon as we deplaned, I was slapped in the face with arctic temperatures that New York had yet to reach this winter. It wasn’t nearly as cold as I had assumed based on the snowy scenery I saw when flying in. It reminded me of some of the more chilly nights I’d experienced since moving to the East Coast when temperatures had dropped and our heaters had worked overtime. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the Midwest was just as cold as it was here.

Note to self: Never move to the Midwest.

Jude and I huddled together as our luggage was pulled from below the plane and transferred to the car taking us to the hotel. We had landed in Reykjavík, the capital of Iceland, but Jude said our hotel was a bit farther down the coast, away from the city.

The driver greeted us with a nod and wave before opening the doors, so we could quickly hop inside. He joined us, sitting in the front and sliding down the partition.

“Hello, welcome to Iceland,” he greeted in his thick Icelandic accent.

“Thank you!” we both responded.

“Sorry for the cold. It’s supposed to warm up tomorrow if you’re wishing to explore.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said, rubbing my mittens together as I wondered what
warm
meant to Icelanders.

I’d thought Jude had requested Grace to buy the winter gear as a joke to throw me off from the real destination, but it had turned out that I really needed it after all. Now, I wondered about the bikini.
Was that a ruse? Or would I need that eventually as well?

Silently, I watched the country pass by as Jude and the driver spoke. I passively listened, hearing their conversation, as the mountains and sea whipped passed my window.

Car rides had been such an infrequent thing for me as a child. I remember spending them with my face glued to the glass, peering out at the world as it whooshed by. At stoplights, I’d see other children, heads down, glued to a portable video game or a book, and I’d wonder why they weren’t as interested in what was going on around them.

It wasn’t until I was older when I’d realized that, after a while, those kids had grown bored and complacent with what life had to show them through a car window.

So far, I hadn’t lost that childlike wonder that I’d so tightly held on to since I was little, and I hoped I never would.

“Be sure you visit the Blue Lagoon,” I heard the driver say.

“Like the movie?” I interjected, my mind suddenly filled with visions of a half-naked Brooke Shields stuck on a deserted island.

“It is a natural spa and very good for the skin,” he said, patting his cheek to add emphasis to his words.

“Is it outside?” I asked, remembering our brisk walk to the car. Being outside in forty layers of clothing sounded fine.
But a string bikini? Not so much.

“Yes, but the water is very hot. You must try it.”

Jude gave me a challenging look, and I just shrugged.

“You only live once, right?”

He laughed. “That’s what all the T-shirts say.”

Like everywhere we’d stayed, the hotel was beautiful. Endless coastal views with an upscale-cabin feel reminded me of a secluded mountain lodge. I hoped to spend some time wandering around our suite, admiring the waves as they crashed just outside below our balcony window, but Jude seemed to have other plans.

“We have dinner reservations in an hour,” he said, sliding his hands around my waist.

“Really?” I nearly whined. “Can’t we just order in?”

“Nope.”

Turning, I looked up at him, trying to gauge what was going on in that head of his. “Why?”

“Just because.” He shrugged, feigning indifference, but I could see the hint of edginess it carried. “I thought it would be nice to spend the first evening of our honeymoon out. That’s all.”

Liar.

He was excited and perhaps a bit nervous about something.

Unwilling to foil any plans he might have, I played along. “Okay. I guess I’d better get ready then.”

Glad I’d taken a shower on the plane, I grabbed my makeup bag and headed for the bathroom to begin sprucing myself up for an evening out. I unzipped the small case, pulling out foundation and a tube of mascara. Eye shadow and lipstick were set on the counter as well. Like a little girl playing with her mother’s makeup for the first time, I always felt a slight thrill whenever I applied it. It was a tiny reminder of independence, of how far my life had come.

I’d never forget.

After fifteen minutes or so, I no longer looked like the tired, jet-lagged version I’d arrived as, and I moved on to tackle my hair. Since I’d blown it dry on the plane, it was mostly straight, hanging down my back with little fuss. Grabbing the curling iron and the wonky plug adaptor, I let it heat up, and I moved to the closet where I’d hung a few dresses after we arrived.

Smiling, I pulled one off the hanger, remembering Grace’s reaction when I’d held it out for consideration. Her eyes had bugged out of her head as she held up two thumbs in approval.

It was a bit more risqué than my normal style, but the soft green color was what had initially garnered my attention. After holding it to my body in front of the full-length mirror, I knew it would drive Jude insane.

Nearly skipping back to the bathroom, enthused now by the prospect of Jude seeing me in my devilish dress, I hung it over the shower door and began curling my long locks of hair. The iron was wide, so it left loose wavy tendrils to frame my face and shoulders. Suddenly, my flat, lifeless blonde mass of hair was full and sexy.

Now, all I needed was the dress and a killer pair of shoes.

Shoot, I forgot to grab my shoes.

Still fully dressed in my drab plane clothes, I tiptoed out of the bathroom, hoping I wouldn’t see Jude before I had a chance to finish my look. It might be silly, but even after the day most women considered their prettiest day, I still wanted to wow him over and over, and that meant not letting him see me until I was completely ready.

Sexy hair and makeup combined with frumpy clothes wasn’t the look I was going for.

Besides, didn’t I read somewhere that marriage was all about keeping the spark alive?

Okay, maybe I was jumping ahead of myself, but I still wanted to see his face hit the floor.

I made it to the closet without a hint of my handsome husband. Feeling triumphant, I bent down and picked up a pair of peep-toe nude heels. I turned to make a mad dash back toward the seclusion of the bathroom.

I halted mid-step and froze.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of him. Obviously still in the middle of getting ready, his shirt was hanging over a nearby chair and he was wearing nothing but a pair of dress pants. He’d casually slung his mint green tie over his neck and was kneeling against the inside railing of the windows overlooking the ocean. With a bottle of water in his hand, he slowly sipped it. He was stoic and calm, peaceful . . . beautiful.

Mine.

The shoes dropped to the floor, and I went to him like a moth to a flame. Suddenly, I didn’t care about grand entrances or perfect moments. I just wanted this moment, all the moments.

His breath hitched as my cold fingers touched his bare skin, but he immediately greeted me with his own tender touch.

“What are you doing?” I asked, resting my head against his back.

“Enjoying the view,” he answered, turning toward me with a warm grin.

“I love you,” I found myself saying, almost as if I needed to hear the words once again.

“I love you, too, more than anything.”

“Oh! Oh my gosh! Did you see that?” I exclaimed, my eyes bugging out of my head at the faint green light fluttering over the water.

I jumped, nearly taking off Jude’s head, as he turned to see what I was screaming about.

“There it is again!” I yelped, pointing.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. “So much for dinner.”

“What? What do you mean?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off of the mesmerizing green-blue pattern swirling across the water.

“I did a crazy amount of research, figuring out when and where the Northern Lights appeared. It’s why I chose this hotel. It’s supposed to have a great view when the weather and time of year is just right. So, I booked us dinner, hoping it would happen then.”

I snickered a bit. “You scheduled our dinner around Mother Nature?”

He laughed. “Okay, when you put it that way, it sounds a bit stupid.”

“I was wondering why you were so nervous. You were scared it wouldn’t happen.”

He nodded.

“You should know, as well as I do, that life is a big box of uncertainties. The best things in life are never planned.”

Pulling me into his arms, we looked out into the night sky, watching with wonder.

“You’ve never been more right.”

I didn’t know how long we stayed there, admiring nature’s magnificent display. Dinner reservations and green dresses had been completely forgotten until my stomach began to rumble.

Jude laughed, turning me slightly so that our eyes met. “Want to order room service?”

“Maybe later,” I answered, pulling him closer.

Have you ever made love under the glow of the Northern Lights?

I have.

NEARLY THREE WEEKS had passed.

Three weeks had been filled with laughter, love, and endless adventures.

Ever since that day in the hospital when Lailah had read to me about wanting to stick her toes in the ocean, I’d known that making every dream and wish on that Someday List of hers come true would become my life mission.

Giving her so much beyond that was just icing on the cake.

We’d spent the last two years of our lives slowly ticking away at that list—from sitting in a parking lot as I’d tried to teach her to drive all the way down to taking a hayride and carving pumpkins. I never wanted her to miss out on life again.

But now, in these few precious weeks, where life had paused and nothing else mattered but the two of us and the new rings on our fingers, I wanted her to know just how extraordinary and big this world was.