"It's so beautiful here," she says, turning her blushing face away from me to gaze at the azure waves.
"You haven't seen it yet," I say, gesturing at the beach path.
I take her hand, leading her down the steep steps as we move toward the isolated cabana. A wood platform that juts out onto the pearlescent beach, a couple of loungers set out on it, folded towels neatly stacked on them, and a small table with a crystal vase of flowers and some bottles of expensive sparkling water. The scene surrounded by four posters holding up the thin white linen that acts as a shade, swaying in the breeze.
"Oh my God," Willow says excitedly when she sees it, hurrying her step to get there quicker. "It looks like actual heaven. This is amazing!"
"I'm glad you like it," I say. It's sincere. Willow's so different from the usual women I take out that I was worried about hitting the mark. "It's ours for the day. What would you like to drink?"
I glance over at the waiter emerging from the fauna, and Willow follows my gaze to see him.
"Something with fruit. Fresh," she says.
"Alcoholic or no?"
Willow shrugs easily, as if she's up for anything now that she's happy and relaxed.
"Sure," she says. "It is my day off."
The waiter nods graciously in her direction, much like Charles, as if he knows exactly what'll make the customer happy.
"We have a green tea mojito that is very popular," he says.
"Perfect," Willow smiles. "Cole?"
"I'll have a single malt whiskey," I tell the waiter. "Your choice."
"Very good, Mr. Chambers," he says, before turning primly and heading back.
Willow eyes me playfully.
"He knew your name."
"Don't believe what they tell you-TV still has reach."
Willow dumps her bag and pulls off her hat, swishing her hair in the wind to loosen it.
"Oh, I'm sure you come here often. I bet the ladies love it."
"Is that jealousy I'm hearing?"
"Nope," Willow says, laughing so that I know she's not lying. "Just figuring you out a little."
"You don't have to figure me out-I'll tell you exactly who I am."
"Is that so?" Willow says, pulling the knot at the back of her kaftan and sliding it away to reveal a body that stirs every masculine fiber inside of me. So lithe and beautiful it's almost torture to look and not touch. "Tell me then: Do you swim?"
///
I stand up and perform my own show, pulling off my T-shirt and standing proud, knowing the long hours I put in every week with my trainer at the gym have sculpted my physique to near-perfection.
"What does it look like?" I ask.
Willow looks me up and down, then shifts her weight to one side, sassily.
"It looks like you're probably too worried about your hair to be a good swimmer."
I laugh in disbelief.
"Imagine that, being judged as a swimmer by someone from Idaho. What coast is that on again?"
"Hey, I was the captain of my swim team in college."
"And I'm sure the swimming pools in Idaho are really something." I look out at the roaring ocean. "But I grew up by the ocean, it's another level."
Willow beams at me, bouncing a little with eager naughtiness. Then she winks, spins, and starts running down the short beach to the lapping waves. I watch her for a second, just admiring her, a little stunned at how this girl is bringing out a side of me I didn't even know I had. Then I take off after her, giving chase as she laughs back at me over her shoulder, until we're wading into the water, diving synchronously into a rolling wave.
We swim out a little, and I find out Willow wasn't lying. She's a good swimmer, good enough to tease me, to sweep away when I get close, submerge herself, long legs flicking into the air before they disappear. I let her go, enjoying the push and pull, satisfying myself with the sight of the water catching her wet hair, gentle laughter mixing with the rush of waves. Until she emerges right next to me, taking me by surprise. I whip around and grab her waist underwater, pull her toward me, a shrieked laugh emerging from that pearl white smile as she brings her sun-glowing face to mine.
"So," I ask, mock-seriously, "are you the kind of girl who kisses on a first date?"
"I don't know. Depends on the guy," she teases, leaning in.
We kiss slow and gentle, as if we've got all the time in the world, the Pacific stretching out beyond us making it feel somehow more private, more intimate. I can almost taste her happiness, taste her inhibitions fading in the beauty of these surroundings.