Page 73 of Restoration

epilogue

AYEAR LATER, I WAKEup as soon as the rising sun hits my face.

I blink into the brightness, taking a few seconds to orient myself. I’m not entirely comfortable, and it’s not only because the sun is in my eyes.

Finally I turn my head to discover that Edmund is indeed sleeping beside me—as he nearly always is—but he’s rolled away to huddle into the thin sliver of shade available so he’s not getting the full force of the sun.

I smile like a dope at the sight of his messy hair and the clean lines of his bare back and shoulders. He’s clearly not ready to get up yet or face the day, so I resist the temptation to poke him between his shoulder blades just to see what he’ll do.

It’s his honeymoon as much as mine. He can sleep as late as he wants.

After reaching for my phone, I discover that it’s not even six yet, but I’m wide-awake and the deck surface beneath the blankets we spread out is harder than a mattress. We wanted to sleep out under the stars last night, and the deck of our yacht felt safer than the beach. But there are consequences to spending the night somewhere other than a bed, and my back is currently experiencing those consequences.

As carefully and quietly as I can, I sit up and then stand, watching Edmund’s sleeping form to make sure I don’t disturb him. I successfully manage to make it belowdecks without waking him up. There, I quickly go to the bathroom, apply sunscreen, and then change into my swimsuit. It’s only a few minutes before I’m climbing down the ladder and sliding into the ocean.

I swim over to the shore, pleased I was able to get away without waking Edmund up.

We got married five months ago but have only now been able to have our honeymoon on the island. The diplomatic situation was so complicated that it nearly ended in a stalemate until Edmund finally started throwing around more money.

He basically had to buy the island from three different nations before the issue was settled. But it’s ours now, so it will be preserved as it is. No one will ever develop it.

And we’re finally able to have our honeymoon.

When I reach the beach, I wade out of the water, dripping in a way that’s pleasant in the morning sun rather than uncomfortable. I go over to the plastic tub we brought over the day we arrived and pull out a towel to spread out on the sand for later.

I walk along the beach for a while, enjoying the vibrant colors of the sun rising over the water. After the sun is farther up over the horizon and there’s still no motion from the yacht, I decide to take a real swim since the water is calm right now and I feel better for the rest of the day if I exercise at least a little in the morning.

I’ve been alternating between freestyle and breaststroke, going back and forth parallel to the shore so I’m never out of sight of the boat for about twenty minutes when someone grabs my ankle.

I know who it is. It’s obviously Edmund. There’s no one else within hundreds of ocean miles of us, and it’s clearly a human hand that touched me.

But it startles me anyway. I jerk my head out of the water, squealing and yanking my foot away.

Treading water, Edmund bursts into laughter, his familiar face warm and fond and very wet.

It’s hard to resist him when he’s in this mood. I’ve never been any good at it, even back when he was only my boss, but ever since we got together, my heart has turned into total mush when it comes to him.

But still...

I’ll never be spineless, and such behavior deserves an appropriate response.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Who did you think it was?” He reaches out to me, obviously intending to give me some sort of a water-treading hug, but I move out of his range.

“I didn’t think through specific possibilities. I was just grabbed out of the blue. It could have been a giant octopus or something ready to drag me down to the deep.”

He laughs again. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have realized that giant octopi are real dangers around here. I won’t do it again.” He reaches out for me.

“Yes, you will.” I sniff and frown at him, managing to elude his grasp.

This clearly frustrates him, so he makes a more concerted effort to get to me.