But deep down, it’s not the entire truth. I’m not 100% happy. There’s something missing from my life. Or rather, someone. I’m living the dream, but sometimes I’d really like to be living that dream with a lifelong partner. A husband. A lovah.
But considering I’m still carrying my V-card, I’m guessing that’s not going to happen anytime soon.
“Hey, let’s do that photoshoot,” Xander offers. And I nod, happy to have this moment captured — eating cake with my favorite people, on a beach, in the prettiest place on Earth.
Later, I’m clearing the last of my tables, happy I wasn’t given the twelve top. It’s a wild group of tourists who have clearly been drinking all day. “You should take off,” my manager Clive says. “A little bird told me it’s your birthday.”
“I want the hours.”
“I know, but how about as my birthday gift to you, I give you those hours anyways?”
“Clive.” I shake my head. Giving me the last few hours off means he will be staying later. “You don’t have to.”
“Hey, take it from me, an old dude on the beach — you’re only young once. Go live it up, Twila. Let your hair down.”
I smile, squeezing his arm. “Thanks, Clive. I won’t argue with that.”
In the back room, I take off my apron, change into a black sundress, and put on my flip-flops. After grabbing my purse, I pull out my phone and see Xander texted.
It’s some of the photos from earlier today.
My co-worker Jose walks out of the supply room with a case of rum. “Come get a drink at the bar before you leave.”
“Will do,” I say, scrolling through the images as I follow him to the front of the restaurant and slide onto a barstool.
“I’ll make you a birthday special,” Jose says as he begins concocting a fruity pink beverage. My favorite kind.
“It’s your birthday?” a man asks, sitting down on a stool next to me. He is insanely attractive, dark black hair, scruff on his jaw, piercing brown eyes that could swallow me whole.
Since I’ve just posted a photo of me blowing out my birthday candles to my social media account, I flip it to the man, showing him proof. “Yep. Twenty-two.”
“Well, happy birthday, Curvy Girl at the Beach,” he says, reading my IG handle. “I’m Tanner, and… Can I buy you a drink?”
“I already bought her one,” Jose says with a protective edge to his voice.
I laugh. “Don’t mind Jose,” I tell Tanner. “It’s his job to be an overprotective big brother. The locals look out for one another.”
“And you’re a local?” he asks, looking at me with a smile on his face.
I nod. “And you are not.”
“No, I’m actually staying at the Bahamas Grand Hotel and I swear I saw you there earlier.”
I bite my bottom lip. “And you didn’t come over and say hi?”
He chuckles. “You were with someone.”
I nod slowly. “Right. Xander. He’s my best friend.” My phone beeps as I say that and I look down at it. “And he is actually texting me right now.”
“No worries,” Tanner says, his smile sending a wave of warmth through my body. Men never look at me like this… or maybe just not the men I want to be looking this way. The man. Him. There is something about Tanner that makes me feel totally invested.
I read Xander’s text and make an in-the-moment decision. One my boss Clive would approve of, one that my friends would be shocked by. “Do you want to go dancing?” I ask Tanner. “My friend is a DJ. He’s at a club tonight and since it’s my birthday, I thought maybe—”
“I’d love to,” he says, cutting me off.
Jose lifts his eyebrows. “You sure, Twila?”
“Twila — you’re Galy’s daughter?”
I frown. “How do you know my mom?”
“She checked me in at the hotel today.”
I swallow, remembering that my mom mentioned a handsome man checking in earlier. Maybe this is him. Maybe this is a sign.
Tanner wears a light blue button-up shirt and brown leather sandals. His shoulders are broad, his biceps shaped with muscle, his smile contagious. And he is into me.
“Oh, I’m, sure, Jose,” I tell my co-worker. “I’ve never been so sure in my life.”
3
Tanner
She calls a cab — and a few minutes later a car pulls up to The Red Crab. Apparently some friend of her mom is the driver.
“Were you out to dinner alone?” Twila asks.
I swallow, totally smitten and taken in by this woman. She’s the girl I saw from my balcony, and it feels like it’s meant to be — us seeing one another again.
“I’m in town for my brother’s wedding,” I tell her. “A group of us went out for dinner.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “And you didn’t want to stay with them?”
“No. He may be my brother, my only family, really, but we’re nothing alike.”
“Why are you so different?” she asks, rolling down the window of the cab. The balmy night air sweeps through the car and I exhale, relaxing more in her presence than I have in ages. The driver keeps looking in the rearview mirror as if checking where my hands are. They’re on my knees — but damn, that is sure as hell not where I’d like them to be.
“Mark has little respect for women,” I explain. “For hard work, for anything, really, that doesn’t come easy.”
She nods slowly. “I see. And you’re the opposite of that?”
I shrug, realizing that could sound conceited. “I’m not perfect, hell, not by a long shot, but I do have different values than him.” I run a hand over my jaw. “And you, do you have a sibling rivalry?”
She smiles, her dark hair looking as if it’s been tousled by the waves. God, I want to run my fingers through it. “No, I’m an only child. My mom raised me on her own. So it’s just been the two of us against the world.”
“That and your million followers.”
She laughs. “You looked at my Insta?”
“While I
