Authors: MJ Duncan
A second valet had appeared to handle Grey’s door, and Grey sighed as she gave Lauren’s thigh a quick squeeze before climbing out of the car. She met Lauren under the portico that ran from the drive to the doors of the restaurant, and she tipped her head invitingly as she offered
Lauren her hand. “Shall we?”
“Of course,” Lauren murmured, a small smile quirking her lips as she slipped her hand into Grey’s.
Bluewater was the signature restaurant at Kipling Resort in Frenchman’s Cove, the Kipling family’s most exclusive hotel on the island. It was always packed, getting a reservation usually meant calling weeks in advance if you were not a hotel guest, and Grey was grateful for her connections when the maître d' led them through the crowded dining room to an intimate corner of the patio that overlooked the ocean.
They took their seats at a table surrounded by manicured plants that sparkled with strings of white lights, and Grey nodded her thanks to the maître d' as she took the menu he held out for her, not even pretending to listen as he prattled on about that night’s specials. Nothing the kitchen prepared could ever be more delectable than the woman beside her, who
was wearing the most alluring smile lifting as she listened intently to the description of each dish.
After he had left them with the promise of their server arriving shortly, Grey set her menu on the table and reached out to cover Lauren’s hand with her own. She had been a little worried that her choice in restaurants might be too much given their situation, but she knew that Lauren would appreciate the five-star cuisine, and she wanted to give her a nice night out. “Thank you for coming out with me tonight.”
Lauren looked up at Grey through her lashes, and leaned forward and kissed Grey softly, lingering in the connection for a few moments before pulling back with a small sigh. She smiled and ran a light hand over Grey’s jaw. “Thank you for asking.”
Movement in her periphery made Grey pull away from Lauren’s touch, and she rolled her eyes when she saw a familiar blonde approaching their table with a bottle of wine in her hands. “Surprise, surprise,” Grey drawled as she pushed her chair back and stood to hug her friend hello.
“Like you could really call Jonathan for a reservation and not have me hear about it,” Kelly Kipling replied as she returned the hug. She looked at Lauren over Grey’s shoulder, and sighed. She had spent the last week worrying about how Grey, and seeing Lauren in person did little to assuage her. Lauren was not as identical to Emily as she had feared, but the resemblance was close enough to give her pause. Kelly gave Grey a searching look as she slipped out of her embrace, and pursed her lips thoughtfully as she turned her full attention to Lauren. “Chef Murphy, it is nice to actually meet you.”
“Ms. Kipling?” Lauren guessed, correctly assuming that the blonde was the woman who had interviewed her over the phone.
“Kelly, please,” Kelly insisted with a small, saccharine smile. “I’m glad to see that you’re enjoying your stay in the islands.”
Grey groaned. The jab at her…whatever it was she had with Lauren was clear, and she shook her head. “Kip, come on.”
The comment could have been considered playful, but the caustic edge to Kelly’s voice told Lauren that the blonde did not approve of what she had walked-in on. And, knowing hard it had been for Grey to even be around her those first few days, she understood. Were their situation reversed, she knew that she would be just as protective of Grey. Lauren sighed and nodded. “I am.”
Kelly looked poised to respond, and Grey sighed. She flashed an apologetic smile at Lauren before she turned and gave Kelly a withering glare. “Let me walk you to the bar to get that bottle opened,” she said, looking pointedly at the bottle of wine in Kelly’s hands. “We’ll be right back,” she told Lauren, wishing she could do something about the concern
that was clearly visible in Lauren’s eyes as she ushered Kelly toward the bar.
“I do employ a sommelier,” Kelly drawled as she led the way across the patio.
“Yeah, and a wicked tongue,” Grey muttered as she sidled up to the outdoor bar beside her friend.
“Sweet talker,” Kelly jibed as she handed the bottle to the bartender to open.
Grey watched the bartender as he uncorked the bottle, and waited until he had made a discreet exit to respond. “Kelly.”
The use of her first name told Kelly that Grey had had enough, and she relented. “Okay, fine. But, seriously, are you sure about whatev
er it is you’re doing with her?”
Grey shrugged and ran her hands through her hair. Just the mention of Lauren had her turning to look at the redhead. “Yeah. No. I dunno. It’s just…”
“What?” Kelly prompted when it seemed like Grey was not going to finish her thought.
“Inevitable,” Grey murmured as she turned back to Kelly. “Look, I know you’re being all mama bear and everything and, while I appreciate it, I just…I care about her. She’s a sweet girl and she just…” Grey smiled sadly
and shook her head. “She doesn’t need this shit. I was the one who kissed her first. She already knew about Emily and she gave me an out, but I didn’t want it. I still don’t want it. I know this is probably not going to end well,” she added softly, finally giving voice to the truth that lurked in the background of every moment she and Lauren had shared over the last few days, “but I can’t stay away from her. I don’t want to.”
Kelly gaped, floored by the fact that Grey had not only said Emily’s name—something
she had not done since the funeral—she had also apparently talked to Lauren about her as well. “Well…fuck.”
“Yes, there’s been quite a bit of that, too,” Grey muttered dryly, hoping to lighten the mood.
Kelly chuckled. “You getting laid is not the most revelatory information, Wells.”
“Shut up,” Grey muttered.
“You love me.” Kelly looked over at Lauren and sighed. “So, you’re boning the chef, huh?”
Grey rolled her eyes. “I would
n’t put it so crudely, but yes.”
“Please,” Kelly scoffed. “You just said you guys have been fucking. How is boning any worse? But, most importantly, is the sex good?”
“Amazing. But that’s all I’m telling you.” Grey blew out a quiet breath and smiled. “I’m a big girl, Kip. I know what I’m doing, even if it isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Yeah, well
—” Kelly reached out and gave Grey’s hand a gentle squeeze, “—I’m still gonna worry about you.”
“I know,” Grey said. “And I
love you for that.”
Kelly sighed and looked over at Lauren
. Grey’s assurances that she knew what she was doing did little to alleviate her apprehension about what Grey was doing with Lauren, but she also knew that Lauren had to be something special if she was able to get Grey to actually talk about Emily. “I guess I need to go apologize for being such a bitch, huh?”
“That would be nice.”
“Dinner on the house?”
“That would be even nicer.” Grey laughed softly and pulled Kelly into a fierce hug. “Thank you for looking out for me. I know I haven’t been the easiest to deal with these last few years.”
“Yeah, well, that’s my job.” Kelly smiled as she pulled back to look Grey in the eye. “I mean, I’ve been looking out for your sorry ass since I got stuck with you as a roommate, freshman year. Who the hell else is gonna do it?”
Grey laughed and shook her head as her gaze drifted to Lauren. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
Kelly glanced from Grey to Lauren and back again, noting the way Grey’s eyes had grown soft when she looked at Lauren. “You wanna talk about that?”
“Not really, no.”
“Okay.” Kelly picked up the bottle of wine she had brought with her left hand and motioned toward Lauren with her right. “Let’s go get that apology out of the way so you two can enjoy the rest of your night.” She smiled at Grey and rolled her eyes. “God, I hate apologizing.”
“I know,” Grey chuckled as she fell into step beside her friend.
They made their way back through the maze of tables filling the patio, and Kelly cleared her throat softly as she approached the table where Lauren sat fiddling with her napkin on her lap as she looked out over the water. “I’m sorry.”
Lauren looked up, her gaze flitting between
Kelly and Grey, who were standing beside the table. Kelly looked perfectly contrite, though there was something about the way she held herself that said it was begrudgingly done, and while Grey did not look as relaxed as she had been before her friend had surprised them, she did have a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips. Lauren sighed when Grey’s hand landed lightly on her shoulder, and could not help but lean into it. “Yeah. Me too,” she murmured.
It was obvious from the way Lauren had reflexively relaxed under Grey’s hand that
Lauren could no more avoid Grey than Grey could avoid her, and Kelly shook her head as she silently cursed the Fates for dealing Grey yet another spectacularly fucked-up hand. “Right, well—” she made a show of checking the time on her watch, “—I should probably get going.” She tipped her head at Lauren in a small bow. “Chef Murphy, it was nice to meet you.”
“
Lauren, please,” Lauren replied with a small smile. “And it was nice to meet you, too.”
“Grey.” Kelly looked at her old friend. “Take care of yourself, and call me later.”
“I will,” Grey assured her.
Kelly smiled and leaned in to brush a quick kiss across Grey’s cheek. “Be good,” she murmured affectionately.
“When am I ever good?” Grey quipped, her tone holding the same warmth. She nodded in response to the questioning look in Kelly’s eyes, assuring her that she would be okay. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah. Enjoy your meal.”
Grey retook her seat as Kelly made her way across the patio and into the main dining room with long, purposeful strides, and sighed as she reached for Lauren’s hand. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be.” Lauren shook her head
as she stroked her fingertips over Grey’s palm. “She’s a good friend.”
“Yeah, but still. You didn’t need that
.”
“Honestly, if I were here, I would’ve done the same thing
,” Lauren said. “She’s just looking out for you.”
Grey gave Lauren a small smile as she leaned in and dropped a quick kiss to her lips. “I know.” She ran the backs of her fingers over Lauren’s jaw and kissed her again softly. “But I don’t need to be protected. I know what I’m doing.”
“Grey…”
“Lauren.” Grey brushed her thumb over the corner of Lauren’s lips.
Lauren’s eyes danced over Grey’s face.
Her eyes were warm and soft, her expression sure, and Lauren sighed as she nodded. “Okay.”
“
Good.” Grey stole another soft kiss, and then forced herself to pull away and sit back in her chair. She shook her head as she picked up her menu, already missing the feeling of gentle contentment that filled her whenever she touched Lauren. She looked up at the sound of Lauren’s chair scraping across the patio beside her, and smiled when Lauren’s hand slid lightly over her thigh. She held Lauren’s gaze as she reached down and covered the hand on her leg and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Kip is buying us dinner to make up for being a bitch earlier,” she shared, keeping her tone purposefully light as she tried to steer their evening back to where it was before Kip had shown up. “So I am going to order the most expensive thing on the menu. What looks good to you?”
Lauren stared at Grey for a moment longer, and then shrugged. They both knew that their situation was far from ideal, but as neither of them were willing to put an end to things, there was really no point dwelling on the fact. All that they could do was enjoy the moments they had, and hope that the memories they made would be enough to make it all worthwhile.
“I don’t know.” She picked up her menu. “What do you suggest?”
Grey smiled and tickled her fingers over Lauren’s. “Me.”
Lauren laughed. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“While that is an incredibly tempting idea,” Lauren drawled as she let her eyes drag over Grey’s body, deliberately lingering on the ample swell of her breasts, “I think I’ll save you for dessert.”
As it turned out, it was remarkably easy for Lauren to pretend that the end of her tenure aboard the
Veritas
was not growing steadily closer with every passing second. When it was just the two of them, it was easy to imagine that the soft hiss of the swinging pendulum of Time that would ultimately tear them apart was simply the wind that was skipping over the waves and filling their sails.
The trip fr
om Charlotte Amalie to Hawksnest Bay had been smooth, and they rounded the rocky cape at the southern end of the bay before midday. Lauren sat up on the sunbathing mat where she had stretched out at the sound of the sails furling overhead, and let her eyes sweep over their surroundings. The water was the clear, gradient hues of turquoise and blue that Lauren had become accustomed to during her time in the islands, and the mooring field near the center of the bay was empty. Lush, rich, green vegetation cascaded down the mountains to a pristine stretch of pale golden sand that wrapped along the curve of the bay, and Lauren could already picture herself spending a lazy afternoon on the warm sand, listening to the hypnotic crash of waves lapping at the shore.