Charming Deception, Page 7

“Jaks, this place is absolutely gorgeous…”

“Our place, baby, yours and mine. And, yes, it is.”

“Are you getting hungry yet?” Jakson asks.

“No”

“Okay. Then, how about we go for a little walk on the beach? That usually makes you feel better. Want to change just in case you get the urge for a little dip?”

The idea sounds wonderful to me. I nod. He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom, pulling open a drawer and pulling out a pair of white swim trunks with navy and red piping down the sides out of a drawer. I looked around. The calming beiges and taupes of the bedroom remind me of sand and shoreline, and are set off dramatically by the classic dark cherry Queen Anne furniture and a bit of English country garden influence. It’s warm, inviting, and restful. It looked like both of them. And everything was extremely neat.

“Jaks, I...” 

He anticipates my question and pulled open a dresser drawer in the adjacent dresser. “Your bathing suits and cover-ups are in here. Water shoes are in the bottom of the closet. I’ll get them and some towels while you change.” 

He pulled off his clothes and stepped into his swim trunks. I watch him intently. Tall, lean, sinewy, but not skinny. I like the way he moves, agile, sure-footed. Cat-like. Big cat-like. Grr-rr.

I walk around the large comfortable room. I open a door, and am surprised to find a large, perfectly organized closet full of gorgeous clothes and shoes. I check the labels. Size ten. 

If I am married to sweet, handsome hunk HIM and I live HERE in this gorgeous tropical paradise, and all this beautiful high-end stuff is MINE, then why am I not skipping around here, doing the ‘I’m the luckiest woman on this planet’ happy dance? Why do I feel this nasty, dark, suspicious, paranoid streak inside me as wide as Cleveland?

He turns to me, interrupting my silent rant, looking very good in his swim trunks, with towels for both of us. He pulled a navy shirt out of the closet.

“Is my sweetheart suddenly shy? Do you want to change in the bathroom?”

Again I nod, go in, and close the door. The bathroom is a beautiful, restful oasis of sea green glass tiles and a seafoam green shower curtain. More odd-looking water filters. 

White shutters adorn the window, and there are shelves on both sides of the window displaying little lighthouses from around the world. I recognize them. I bought some of them myself on vacation when I was in college. Look! Lake Erie and Cape May. And my husband brought me one back every time he had to go away on a business trip without me. Well, I guess at least I remember I have a husband.

I pull off my clothes and step into a one piece, one shoulder black swimsuit. Expensive. Good support on top. I look cautiously in the mirror, not getting too close. The bathing suit not only fit, it fit well. In fact, surprisingly, I look damn good. I slip a black lace blouse over the suit as a cover-up.

I quietly open the medicine cabinet and poke around, looking for something else to jar my memory. First-aid items, alcohol, peroxide. Dental care necessities. Aspirin, shaving items. Nothing out of the ordinary. According to the contents of this medicine cabinet, we are two very healthy and extremely neat people.

“Sam? Honey? Everything okay in there, babe? Need help?”

“No, Jaks. I’m fine. Be right out.” I quietly close the cabinet door and come out of the bathroom.

“Ah, there she is! The irresistible woman who stole my heart.” He stands there and looks at me for a moment, as if he expects me to say something. What?  “Uh, okay,” he continues, “I have our water shoes and some towels. Let’s go.”

7.