Monica Richardson - A Yuletide Affair

“Forget what?” he asked.

“That we had a date, silly.” Her breasts were perfectly round and buoyant. “Remember, I was going to show you around the island?”

He didn’t think they’d actually set a date. In fact, he thought they were just making flirtatious small talk. “Was that today?” he asked.

“You did forget.” She pouted.

“I can’t today, Bijou. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, mister!” She grabbed his arm. “I’m not letting you renege.”

He couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to the rendezvous. And there was little he could do to get out of it, so he followed Bijou to an old pickup truck parked in front of Samson Place. Bijou jumped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. Samson reluctantly walked around to the other side of the truck, hopped into the passenger’s seat and slammed his door shut. She started the engine, and although the rusty Chevy was in desperate need of a paint job, the engine hummed like it was brand-new. He held on to the door handle as Bijou peeled away from the curb. She tuned the radio to a Caribbean party station and turned up the volume as loud as it would go. He held his breath as she sped through the streets of Harbour Island. He barely heard as she pointed out some of the island’s landmarks. His mind was elsewhere—on Alyson and the anticipation of making amends with her.

“Let’s go for a swim!” Bijou pulled up at the beach without warning.

“Let’s not,” he told her. “I didn’t bring any trunks.”

He didn’t need trunks, but had no desire to take a swim with Bijou. He’d had his fill of swimming in the ocean for one day, and it hadn’t gone well at all.

“Don’t you want to go skinny-dipping?”

What man wouldn’t want to skinny-dip with a beautiful woman like Bijou? He’d be crazy not to.

“Maybe another time,” he said. “You think you could drive me back to the Grove now?”

“You’re putting me off.” She poked her lip out.

He didn’t have an answer, and couldn’t believe he was turning down an opportunity to skinny-dip with a beautiful woman. His buddies back home would be giving him the side-eye, wondering if he’d grown soft.

He managed a smile. “Rain check?”

Bijou wasn’t giving up without a fight. She untied the strings of her bikini halter top and dropped it. Her breasts sprung to life. He noted that they were a beautiful shade of brown with perky nipples. Her fingertips reached for his face, caressed his temples. She grabbed his hand and slipped his index finger into her mouth. “Still want to go back to the Grove?”

“Those...are...very beautiful.” He breathed in deeply. There was no denying he was aroused, but he stood his ground.

He didn’t know when it happened, but Alyson had become his new endeavor, and getting her attention had suddenly become his focus.

“Glad you like them.” She smiled seductively.

“Please put your top back on.”

“Was it something I said?” she asked. “I was too forward.”

“It’s not you. It’s me.” He sounded like a cliché, but he didn’t care. He had no desire to impress Bijou. “It’s just that I need to get back and speak with someone.”

“With that woman—Jasmine’s sister. The stuffy one,” she said matter-of-factly. “It’s too bad she has such a bad attitude.”

“She’s beautiful, though,” Samson rebutted.

“She’s a bit overweight.”

Samson laughed at Bijou’s cattiness. He thought her jealousy was cute. Alyson was far from overweight, in his opinion. She had curves in all the right places. He thought she was sexy as hell, and couldn’t seem to get her out of his head. Bijou lifted her bikini top back up and tied it around her neck again. She started the truck, put it in Reverse and peeled out of the sand at full speed. He wasn’t sure she was able to drive at a normal pace, or even move at a normal pace, for that matter. A man usually had to work hard for what she was willing to give so freely. Fast was definitely her middle name. A week ago, he’d have appreciated Bijou’s audacity. Women had always been his weakness. He couldn’t think of anything better than a beautiful woman’s body pressed against his. But his priorities were suddenly beginning to change.

In an attempt to drown the uncomfortable silence in the truck, Bijou turned up the stereo as loud as it would go. He gazed out the window to keep from looking her way. He wanted to apologize to her, but couldn’t find the words. He just needed to be back at the Grove, and it seemed he couldn’t get there soon enough.

* * *

He found Alyson in the common area at Samson Place. She was reclined on the tangerine-colored antique sofa, pecking ferociously on the keyboard of her laptop. Instead of approaching her immediately, he found his way to the kitchen. Raquel, one of the Grove’s Bahamian cooks, stood in front of the stove with an apron tied around her generous hips.

“Can I get two cups of tea, please?” he asked.

Raquel stopped stirring something in a huge pot, just long enough to look at him. “She likes green tea, with a splash of lemon and just a drizzle of honey,” she said in her sweet Bahamian accent.

“You mean Alyson?”

“Yes, Miss Talbot is very specific about her tea, amongst other things,” she said as she placed a fire beneath the teakettle and grabbed two large mugs from the mahogany cabinet. “And how do you like your tea, Mr. Steel?”

He wondered how she knew his name. It seemed that everyone around the island had become fully acquainted with him.

“I’ll have mine the same way as hers, I guess.”

“She’s mad. You know that, right?” Raquel asked. “You messed up royally.”

“You heard her mention it?”

“The whole house did.” Raquel shook her head. “Came in here ranting and raving about her time being valuable, and her clothes and hair being ruined.”

“Wow,” he said.

“Just be yourself, and apologize profusely.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I’ve known the Talbots for a long time, and it wasn’t that long ago that I changed Alyson’s diapers.” Raquel smiled. “She has a hard exterior, but the truth is, she’s a real softy on the inside...if you can manage to get in there.”

“I don’t see anything soft about Alyson Talbot, except maybe...” He caught himself, realized that he’d said too much. “Never mind.”

“Now, see, that’s what’s wrong, Mister Steel. You got your priorities all mixed up. Thinking with the wrong head. You’re out gallivanting about town with Bijou, doing God only knows what, and now you want to make amends with Miss Talbot. Such a man!”

“I didn’t... I mean, Bijou and I didn’t...”

“I don’t want to hear any of the details, honey. You just need to make up your mind as to what it is that you want.”

“You know a lot about things, Miss Raquel.”

“I know about everything that goes on around here,” she told Samson.

Samson laughed. Where he was from, there was a name for people like Miss Raquel— nosy . Once the teakettle whistled, Raquel made green tea with splashes of lemon and drizzles of honey and then sent him on his way.

“Now go. Be persistent. No woman wants a mouse of a man.”

“I’m not a mouse, Miss Raquel. I’m far from that.”

“Well, good! Because she’s strong and needs someone to take charge. And don’t take no for an answer.” She didn’t smile, but gave him a nod. “Now, go on, child.”

“Thank you.”

He cautiously stepped out of the kitchen and headed toward the area where Alyson was engrossed in her computer. He placed the mug on the rustic coffee table in front of her. “Just the way you like it,” he said.