Chapter 22: Surly Romance: Chapter 22

The first time I saw Sunny Quetzal, I thought I was having a heart-attack. She was beautiful, but it was more than her outward appearance that gripped me. She was… unreachable. Something a little supernatural. Something I couldn’t explain.

I fell for her without really understanding what love is. Without understanding the way it takes you and twists you and turns you upside down. The way it scrapes your soul down to the dregs and tears your heart right out of your ribs, only to demand more.

The second time I met Sunny, I expected love to make a little more sense. I was grown. A man. I’d had experience living and dating and figuring out who I wanted to be in this world. Surely, she wouldn’t be as magical as she was in high school.

Turns out, I was wrong. Sunny clung to my brain like a burr and no matter how much I tried to shake her off, she refused to budge.

It took me a long time to give up. To admit that, sometimes, there are no earthly explanations for why people are drawn to each other.

Sometimes, love and logic just don’t mix.

I could run down the list of brain patterns and hormones. I could dive deep into the history of attraction and its necessity for the survival of mankind. But it wouldn’t be able to define everything I feel for Sunny Quetzal.

My eyes devour her as she and the boys collide on the beach. Her dark, silky hair flaps all over her face, getting into her plump mouth and covering her nose. She bats it away with a dark brown hand, elegant fingers tucking the strands behind her ear.

The T-shirt she’s wearing flaps in the breeze and her pants stop at just before her ankles. I remember her in T-shirts and shorts. Barefoot because, somehow, she can never find her slippers. I remember her arms wrapping around me and the way it felt like home.

Her eyes lift to mine and I wonder if a heart can take this much happiness.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi.” I lift a hand.

The boys jump around her, demanding her time and attention. I let them have their moment, content to hang back and watch the smiles on everyone’s faces.

“Can we go see a Mayan temple, Sunny?” Bailey asks. “I want to see one.”

“We’re on an island, sweetie. There aren’t any Mayan temples here.”

“I booked a hotel in Cayo,” I announce, knowing that I’m butchering the name. “If you don’t mind giving us a tour, we can head to the Mayan temple before we check in.”

“Now?” Her eyebrows hike.

“When you’re finished with your work,” I say.

Another woman pops up. I hadn’t even noticed she was there because my eyes were so focused on Sunny.

“I’ve got it here. You can go with your boys.” The woman wiggles her eyebrows at me. “And your super-hot husband.”

“Oh, he isn’t my husband.”

Yet. But I keep that thought to myself.

“Let’s go,” Sunny says, reaching a hand out to Bailey and Micheal. The boys walk beside her. Their curls are going crazy in the wind and I can already tell I’ll have to reapply their sunscreen in another thirty minutes. If I don’t, they’ll be as red as lobsters by the time we get home.

“Did you think I was really disappointed last night?” Bailey asks Sunny.

“I thought you were heartbroken. I felt so sad that I couldn’t be there for your birthday. Now, you’re here! I still can’t believe you guys showed up in Belize.”

“Mr. Darrel’s been planning this for a while,” Micheal says.

I cough self-consciously.

Sunny’s eyes collide with mine again. “Did you?”

I shrug.

Her lips curve up and I take that as a good sign. She asked me for space and told me not to contact her until she reached out. Then, at the ice cream shop, she told me she was ready to talk. I immediately started putting our surprise together.

“I’m so happy you’re both here.” Sunny squeezes them tight.

“We have to get a move on if we’re going to make the boat ride.” I check my watch.

She laughs when she stumbles on the luggage discarded in the sand like old pirate treasures. The boys and I threw them aside when we caught sight of her on the beach.

“You’re lucky no one stole these.” Sunny points down.

“Mr. Darrel would have just bought us more clothes. Did you know he’s rich?” Bailey asks.

I snort.

“Yet he lives like a regular guy,” Micheal mumbles. “Actually, he lives like a total miser.”

My eyebrows pull together. “Hey, I’m not a ‘total miser’ just because I don’t want to buy you the latest gaming console.”

“I didn’t say anything about the console. That sounds like your guilty conscience talking.” Micheal gives me a mischievous look.

I laugh. Since I’ve gained legal guardianship, he’s been a lot more relaxed. Which is fine. But Micheal ‘acting his age’, unfortunately, comes with side effects. Like lots of snide comments and tween-age demands.

“We’ll see how you handle chores and then we can talk about the console. Okay?”

“See what I mean? He could hire maids for that stuff.”

“We have Ms. Hansley,” Bailey points out.

“She’s not a maid, doofus,” Micheal says.

“Don’t call me doofus!”

Micheal sticks out his tongue.

“Boys!” Sunny rolls her eyes. “You just got here. Can you not embarrass me in front of everyone?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Sorry.”

I pull my lips in to keep my laughter at bay.

Sunny glances up and gives me a can you believe them look.

I want to kiss her in that moment like I never have before.

The boys settle down on the boat ride to Belize City. As the waves lap on either side of the boat, Sunny sits beside me and stares at Micheal and Bailey. I place my hand over hers and she turns her head. Sunlight reflects in her sharp brown eyes and plays in the corner of her smile.

“I missed you.” I lean my forehead against hers. It’s as much of a confession as it is a fact.

She inhales sharply. “Me too.”

I frown. “But I’m going to have to find a way to get you back.”

“For what?”

“Not adding me to the group chat.”

She laughs. “Are you kidding?”

“I’m genuinely hurt.”

“I’m glad you can acknowledge that you get hurt too, Hastings, but I’m not going to apologize for kicking you out of the group chat.”

“Do you know how traumatizing it was when the boys were laughing over an inside joke with you?”

“You would have flooded our group chat with links to brain science articles and sudoku puzzles.”

“Hey, sudoku puzzles are good for the brain.”

She laughs, a bright and magical sound that competes with the waves slapping against the boat and the light twinkling on the horizon.

“Next time,” I whisper close to her ear, “we’re going to form an adults-only group chat. Just the two of us.” My fingers brush her shoulder. “Then we can have inside jokes of our own.”

Sunny trembles under my touch.

I glance at her, straightening. “What do you say?”

My heart does a backflip when she leans against me, puts a hand behind my head and pulls me so close that the baseball hat I’m wearing nearly falls off my head. Her soft pink lips graze my cheek and move against my ear with a warmth that turns my insides to mush.

“I’ll see how you behave today and then I’ll decide.”

Words can’t even describe how much I want this woman.

“Look!” Bailey gasps and points at the water. “I think I saw a dolphin!”

“Where?” Micheal cranes his neck.

Sunny turns her attention back to the boys, but I keep my eyes on her. Even the back of her head is stunning to me. She pulled her hair up so it wouldn’t slap her in the face, but tendrils of silky black hair fall against her neck, creating an almost artistic design on her skin.

I want to press a kiss there.

I glance away instead.

Behave, Darrel. Wait until you can talk to her first.

The boat arrives safely in Belize City, and we take a private car to the Mayan temple in Cayo.

“Be careful, boys!” Sunny yells.

We both watch as the kids charge up the pyramid that was so well-built it withstood the test of time.

She turns to me. “Have you been talking to my mom?”

“Why?”

“She called me the other night. Said you brought the boys over to help her clean out her garage.”

“Did she?” I rub my chin.

Sunny folds her arms over her chest. “When did you and mom get so close?”

“Well, she offered to make us fry jacks. Once I told the boys that hers tasted better than yours well, they were happy to do it.”

“That’s called child labor, Darrel.”

“We didn’t pay in cash. So technically it isn’t.”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile grows.

I take her hand and squeeze. “Ms. Hansley is at the hotel. She wanted to get some rest before the activities later this evening.”

“What’s happening later this evening?”

“The boys will be attending a Belizean folklore competition. There’ll be a campfire and s’mores and scary stories.”

“Oh?” She leans toward me. “And where will the adults be?”

“Out.”

“Hm.”

“Can I take you out, Sunny?”

Her eyes dart to my lips. “I would really like that.”

Hours later, I escort Sunny into the high-end restaurant. All the other tables are empty and the hostess smiles nervously at me as if such a thing has never happened before.

My fingers press steadily against the small of Sunny’s back as I guide her to a table with a perfect view of the steel pan players. I could have gotten a string quartet, but the steel pans felt more authentic to the Caribbean. The fifteen well-dressed musicians create a fairy-like sound when they hit their sticks against the pans. For drums that are so big and bulky, the music is light and tinkling.

“Whoa.” Sunny’s eyes take up most of her face as she observes the restaurant. “Why did you choose this place, Darrel? It looks like no one comes here.”

I chuckle because she’s perfect and adorable and everything I could ever want in a woman. “It’s not empty because it’s unpopular.” On the contrary, I paid a hefty amount to reserve the building. The owner was worried his regulars would take it personally and demanded a couple more incentives. All of which I handed over eagerly.

“No?” She tilts her head.

“No.”

“Oh.” Then my words register and she stiffens. “Wait, did you… pay for us to have this restaurant to ourselves?”

“What would you like to eat?” I lift the menu. “Or we can have the chef choose. I heard he’s well-respected in Belize.”

“You did not spend…” She gasps. “Did you pay for them to be here too?” She gestures to the steel pan players. They’re staring in concentration at their instruments. The melody sounds familiar. It’s a popular love song.

“I think I’ll let the chef choose. Unless you have another idea.”

She plants her hand on top of mine. “Why are you being excessive? You’re never excessive.”

“Or illogical or expressive or… what was it? Fun?”

Her eyelashes flutter. Something shimmery is on her eyelids. Is that gold? It goes perfectly with the red undertones in her skin and the earrings dangling to her shoulders. The dress wraps around her slender figure like a glove and I can’t believe I’m the lucky guy who gets another shot with the most amazing woman in the world.

“You’ve changed a lot, Hastings.”

“Let me show you how much.” I offer my hand to her.

She stares at it. “No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m wearing open-toed pumps.”

“I won’t step on your feet.”

“Did you take dance classes while I was gone?” She accepts my hand and I swing her out into the middle of the room.

“Not exactly.” I pull her close. Her Caribbean-breeze scent makes me want to inhale her like a drug.

“Then?” She sets her dainty hand on my shoulder.

“I did some research.”

She laughs and the sound is soul-deep and so loud that all the musicians look up. “Of course you did.”

“Dancing requires more than following a set of steps. You have to…” I spin her. It’s rough and a little awkward, but it’s much better than I could pull off a month ago. “Feel the music. You need skill and heart.”

“Oh. Did you learn how to be cheesy from your research too?”

I dip her. “No.” Staring into her face, I whisper, “I learned that from an online forum.”

She bursts out laughing.

I don’t. One of the best ways to study something difficult is to get help from others. And, thanks to the internet, there were plenty of people willing to chime in and make suggestions.

I put her back on her feet and she rests her head on my shoulder. “What will I do with you, Darrel?”

“Forgive me.”

She startles and leans back.

I stare into her eyes as the steel pan music fills the air and we sway to the beat. “I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me as if it was just a ploy to keep the kids. If I’d stopped and thought about it for a bit longer, I would have found a different solution. One that didn’t hurt you or call your value to me into question.”

She ducks her head.

I kiss the top of it. “There’s something I have to clarify too.”

She glances up.

“Even though it sounded like I wanted to marry you so I could look better to the judge, that wasn’t all that I was thinking.”

“What else were you thinking?” she asks.

“I was thinking ‘wow, I can’t believe how much I love this woman. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. I need her to say yes.”

“I felt it. The entire time you were with me that day, I felt you trying to prove something. I sensed that there was something bigger going on. It was there in your touch. In your eyes when we…” She swallows. “When I thought that all you cared about was getting the kids, a part of me broke. I wondered if that was all I meant to you.”

“I shouldn’t have put that doubt in your mind.” I cradle her cheeks, wishing I could go back in time and kick myself off the bed before I screwed things up so royally. “I can afford to hire a live-in nanny from now until the kids are off to college. And I’m willing to do anything to prove that I want you because I love you.”

She chuckles. “I heard you mowed mom’s lawn and ruined her verandah.”

“Is that what she said?”

“She said you were going to get yourself killed trying to fix the roof and she had to stop you.”

I smirk. “Did I mention she loves me now? She says I’m decent. For a non-Mayan guy.”

“Decent. High praise.”

“I’m well aware.”

She smiles and I lean my forehead against hers. “I have never seen the kids happier than they are when they’re around you or talking to you or talking about you. I’m not going to diminish that and pretend it doesn’t play a part in why I see you in my future. You make them happy.” I kiss her forehead. “But you make me happy too. Not having you around was torture. I don’t want to go through that again.”

“Me either,” she breathes.

Although I want to keep holding her, I let her go so I can dig into my coat pocket. “Then, Sunny Quetzal,” I drop to my knees and show her the ring box, “I’ll ask you a second time. No looming court date or desperation or misunderstandings.”

She smacks her hands over her mouth and stares at me with tearful eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

Sunny lunges at my neck and kisses me so deeply that we almost fall over. I steady her, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting her high.

“Sunny.” I lose my mind as she peppers my face with kisses. It takes another minute for my brain to work. “Sunny.” She presses her lips to my jaw and my mind goes blank for a second. “Is that…” The distant applause of the steel pan players and the waiters fill my ears, but it’s not as loud as my pulse rushing through my head. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” She leans back, her eyes bright and her smile wide and beautiful. “I’ll marry you, Darrel.”

I spin her around and kiss her solidly before slipping the diamond on her finger. We both stare at it, the world stopping as the gravity of the moment hits us square in the chest.

She was the queen bee of John Hearst.

I was the loner kid. The outsider. The hoodie guy.

Now, Sunny Quetzal is the queen of my life and the joy of Micheal and Bailey.

And I… well, I’ll finish out my story as her husband.