The Beach

  The Beach

  R.S. Grey

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  The Beach

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Excerpt

  Doctor Dearest

  Chapter 1

  Stay Connected

  Author’s Note:

  The Beach is a standalone novella. However, at the end, I’ve included an excerpt from my bestselling romantic comedy Doctor Dearest which is Natalie and Connor’s story.

  The Beach concludes at around 75% on your device.

  Happy Reading!

  XO, RS Grey

  One

  “Welcome to paradise!”

  It’s the first thing I hear as I unfurl my limbs from the back of the taxi and stand to face the entrance of the hotel.

  Paradise. Right.

  I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months now. Tulum, Mexico, has been on my must-see destination list for years, and I finally convinced my friends to join me on vacation here. There was originally a whole group of us coming: my best friend, Natalie; her husband, Connor; and their daughter, Noelle. Then Natalie thought it’d be fun to add her brother, Noah, to the mix. After all, he’s best friends with Connor. It just made sense to include him.

  I panicked at the prospect of Noah joining us, so I immediately invited my boyfriend, Von, as well.

  We booked one of the hotel’s family villas. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms—lots of space to spread out and avoid my best friend’s hot older brother.

  I thought I’d survive just fine, but then they started to drop like flies.

  Connor had a last-minute work thing he couldn’t get out of.

  Noelle came down with a double ear infection and Natalie didn’t feel safe traveling with her outside of the country, especially without Connor.

  Von is…also not here.

  So that leaves me and Noah.

  On vacation together in a tropical paradise.

  “Welcome to The Beach!” The hotel’s curbside attendant smiles and holds out a huge pink hibiscus, which he apparently wants me to tuck behind my ear based on his enthusiastic gestures. I do it, nestling it in my long blonde waves, even though it feels a little corny. I also accept the jalapeño margarita he hands me, warning myself to take it slow even though I’m tempted to shotgun the thing on the spot. I already had some drinks on the flight down from Boston in preparation for my inevitable face-off with Noah. If I don’t pace myself, it’ll end up being a face-plant.

  “I’ve got your luggage,” the attendant tells me. “You can head into the lobby and check in.”

  I nod and thank him for the help before ascending the shallow concrete steps toward the front of the hotel. Lush plants grow on the perimeter of the stairs, making it feel like I’m stepping into a treehouse rather than a five-star resort. The lobby has no walls. Instead, lightweight white linens drape down from the ceiling of the thatched-roof hut, tied up against the support posts to allow the ocean breeze to carry in off the water.

  Rattan chairs pair with sofas and trendy coffee tables. The common area is filled with guests checking in and out, so I’m not immediately aware of Noah sitting on a chair facing me. Then I hear him call my name.

  “Lindsey!”

  My stomach squeezes tight as my gaze locks on him.

  It never gets easier.

  Looking at him, that is.

  Natalie likens her brother’s appearance to a moody French model. She only means it to be teasing, but it is, in fact, heartbreakingly true. His cheekbones are almost obscenely chiseled, and his brows are as dark as his artfully tousled hair. He rises out of the seat, drawing a few curious stares as he walks toward me.

  He’s wearing shorts and a loose white linen shirt with the top two buttons undone. A red hibiscus sits in his breast pocket, a splash of color that draws my attention only for a moment before I continue my quick perusal of him.

  He shouldn’t already look so tan and handsome—we only just arrived here. Some of us are still one shade shy of eggshell.

  He towers over me as he draws near, and I have to resist the urge to withdraw. My gaze focuses on his lips as he smiles.

  We don’t touch.

  We’re usually careful not to. At least I am.

  “Did the attendant grab your luggage?” he asks, glancing behind me.

  I nod. “Yes. Did you already check in?”

  His dark eyes snap back to mine and seem to carry a sense of amusement when he replies, “I was waiting for you.”

  So then we’re really going to do this.

  Vacation together.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  Noah and I have known each other for years. He came into my life because of my friendship with his sister, and we also work at the same hospital, but not in the same department. He’s in plastics. I’m in OB. Our paths don’t cross all that often, but when they do, I notice. It’s impossible not to take note of Noah Martin.

  I’ve had a schoolgirl crush on him since the first time we met, but I’ve never shared that with a soul, not even Natalie. Especially not Natalie. What would she do if she knew I harbored feelings for her brother? Sure, I tease her about how cute he is—it’d almost be weird if I didn’t—but I’ve never divulged my fantasies or the extremes my brain takes me to when I’m alone and lonely.

  My attention falls on his lips again, lingering too long this time…so I force my attention toward the front desk, downing a hefty sip of my margarita.

  Noah follows, coming to stand beside me at the desk so we can check in together. We give the receptionist our IDs and then she starts typing away on her computer, leaving us with nothing to do but talk or sit in companionable silence.

  Noah opts for the former.

  “How are things going with you and Von? Is he still coming?”

  I reply with a noncommittal hum, not ready to divulge the truth.

  “He’s a lawyer, right?”

  “Yes. A very successful one. Very important. And thank you for asking—they’re fine. We’re fine. Thank you.” I’ve thanked him twice now, so it’s probably time to shut my mouth before I actually let the truth slip out.

  Von and I broke up a month ago, but I can’t admit that to Noah. I’m mortified that I wasted over a year of my life waiting for Von to take our relationship seriously. A perpetual workaholic with no sense of boundaries, he never seemed to care if we had plans on the books. He canceled on me last minute all the time, but I let it slide because when he did show up, he was captivating and charming and always full of promises about what our future could be.

  He was so good at blinding me with possibilities that I was oblivious to the gaping holes in our relationship. I wrote off his wrongs in the hopes that one day he’d eventually change and pick me over his career.

  When he left me hanging on my birthday last month—sitting at a restaurant sipping champagne by myself for two hours—it was the final straw.

  I broke up with him that night via drunken text messages.

  “Almost out of this meeting. Sorry babe. I’ll make it up to you, I swear” was the last text he sent me before I replied with a typo-riddled explosion of feelings.

  “Fruck you! I’m done waiting. Th4d is over.”

  “ALshO YOU AREN’T THAT GO0D IN BeD.”

  Do I regret it? Sure. There are more dignified ways to end a relationship: a calm phone call, a certified letter sent via USPS—whatever. At least it’s over. At least I finally woke up and realized I deserve more than what Von was willing to offer.

  “Okay, we have you two booked in the family villa. Dr. Bro
oks, will Mr. Von Taylor be joining you? We can give you two keys now if—”

  I wave off her offer. “No key necessary.”

  “He’ll want his own key,” Noah prods.

  “He can use mine,” I say, clearing my throat and forcing a smile at the receptionist. “Now, is that everything you need from us?”

  “He’s not coming, is he?” Noah asks.

  “Excuse me,” I say, holding a finger up to her before turning to aim a narrow-eyed glare at Noah. “Do you have to be so nosy?”

  “I’m just curious about who’ll be staying in the villa with us,” he says, unaffected by my harsh glare.

  “It appears it will only be the two of you,” the receptionist says, trying to be helpful.

  She is not helping.

  “Would you like to downsize to one of our junior suites? It has plenty of space for two people.”

  I wave my hands at her like I’m an overzealous referee. “No! No.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that,” Noah replies. “We’d save money.”

  “Noah, we’re both doctors—money isn’t an issue. I’m not sharing a junior suite with you. I bet it only has one bed.”

  “A king,” the receptionist says, like that matters.

  Unfathomable.

  Noah shrugs. “I’m fine either way.”

  I narrow my eyes, not quite sure what he’s getting at. Recently, Noah’s been saying and doing things that don’t totally align with our carefully constructed friends-at-a-distance relationship. He remembers my favorite drinks, chastises me about Von, insists on walking me home whenever we’re all out together in a group.

  Up until this moment, I thought he did it out of kindness.

  But wanting to share a bed with me is not kind.

  It’s…something else.

  My cheeks redden and I gratefully accept the keycard the receptionist slides in my direction. With it, she hands us a printed layout of the complex. The Beach is a boutique hotel with five private villas and ten suites. The villas and suites are tucked away in the lush jungle, separated from one another by sandy walking paths. There’s a spa and pool and restaurant, but everything is secluded and set apart so that if you wanted to, you could stay near your villa and never see another living soul for the entirety of your stay.

  Birds squawk in the trees and cute little lizards skitter across the path as Noah leads me toward ours. It’s the one farthest from the restaurant and lobby complex, so I feel like we’re completely and utterly alone when we reach a white plaster building with a number 5 bolted to a bright aqua-colored door.

  He scans his keycard and pushes the door open, holding his hand out for me to enter first.

  “Why does it feel like you’re supposed to be carrying me over the threshold?” I tease as I brush past him.

  “I will if you want me to,” he replies, and because of how serious he sounds, I pick up my pace just in case he’s about to swoop me up into his arms.

  The white-walled villa is airy and inviting. There’s white furniture paired with rattan and rustic wooden accent pieces, and a huge bouquet of tropical flowers sits on the coffee table beside a chilling bottle of champagne and a little box of chocolates.

  Upon closer inspection, I see the treats were sent to us by Connor and Natalie.

  “Sorry we couldn’t be there! Drink a margarita for us.”

  I do exactly as I’m told, taking another sip of my drink before handing their note to Noah, who comes over, curious about the sender.

  “Our friends miss us, apparently.”

  He smiles. “Yes, but the question is…do we miss them?”

  He glances down at me and my sip of margarita gets lodged in my throat as I stand momentarily paralyzed, unsure of what exactly he’s playing at.

  Is he happy with this arrangement?

  I turn on my heels and breeze through the room toward the back row of windows. The central living room faces the ocean, and the sliding glass doors open out to a beachfront terrace with a hammock, couch, and outdoor tub.

  I have visions of soaking in it with a book, lost to the world.

  “When did you and Von break up?” Noah asks from behind me.

  I turn over my shoulder to see he’s sitting on the couch, untying the pretty red bow around the box of chocolates.

  “Who says we broke up?”

  One side of his mouth rises as he tugs the lid off the box and peruses the truffles sitting inside. He’s too arrogant for his own good.

  “So you’re together?” he prods, lifting a chocolate out of the box and bringing it to his lips.

  I watch him eat it while I hold my breath.

  I’m pathetic, I know.

  I turn back to the window and give him the truth. He’s going to find out eventually anyway.

  “We broke up a month ago.”

  “Good. I hated that guy.”

  He never even met Von.

  “But that leaves me with a theory,” he continues.

  “Do I have to hear it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes out at the crystal blue ocean.

  He ignores my teasing in favor of continuing. “You knew it would only be the two of us staying here and you still came.”

  My spine stiffens. “That’s not a theory. That’s a statement.”

  “Let me finish.”

  He sounds bossy.

  And…hot.

  “You still came because you want to be here with me. Alone.”

  There’s his theory, and I refuse to acknowledge it.

  Heat creeps up my neck and I sense him studying me. I can feel the pressure of his gaze on the backs of my bare legs, crawling up over my loose sundress. I wonder, with the sun pouring in through the windows, if he can see my figure through the light material.

  I shiver at the thought right as a fist knocks gently on the villa door.

  It’s the attendant with our bags.

  Two

  “How’s the hotel?”

  “Amazing. I’m standing in my room right now and the ocean is like ten feet from my fingertips. All I have to do is slide this glass door open and walk out into the sand.”

  Natalie groans. “You’re supposed to lie and tell me it’s not all that great. I’m suffering over here.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. Ugh, it’s horrible. So many palm trees.”

  She laughs. “Nice try.”

  “I wish you were here,” I admit with a glum tone. “We got your note, by the way.”

  “Oh? And the chocolates?”

  “Yes, thanks for those. Noah already opened them.”

  “I’m not surprised. He has such a sweet tooth. Make sure he doesn’t eat them all!”

  I have no plans to go back out into the living right now to stop him. Her brother can have every single one of the chocolates for all I care. I need to stay in here, behind the safety of my door. I never addressed his theory earlier. I used the hotel’s attendant as a scapegoat and hightailed it into my room under the guise of unpacking.

  “How is it, anyway? Just the two of you?”

  “Fine.”

  She hums. “Are you mad I abandoned you?”

  “How can I be mad? You’re taking care of your sick child.”

  “Yeah…I still feel bad though.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Are you sad Von’s not there? I told Noah he had to be extra nice to you.”

  I nearly drop the phone. “You told Noah we broke up?”

  “Yeah…well…I just thought—”

  “Natalie.”

  “What’s the big deal?!”

  The big deal is that if Natalie told her brother about my breakup, that means he KNEW Von wasn’t coming. He knew it would just be the two of us shacked up in paradise and he still came!

  Is that a big deal or am I reading too much into it?

  If not for the stupid theory he issued a few minutes ago, I would assume Noah was only here for a little rest and relaxation, but this all but proves where his intentions lie.

  “You still came
because you want to be here with me. Alone.”

  Do I? And more importantly, does he?

  HOLY SHIT.

  This can’t be happening.

  I’ve been so careful with my feelings for him over the years. Yes, Noah is ridiculously gorgeous. Yes, he’s a talented surgeon. And yes, I’ve heard through the grapevine that he’s a generous…uh…lover, but I kept all that information locked down deep in the recesses of my mind. I can’t entertain errant feelings for Noah. He and I have never been an option. He’s Natalie’s brother! He and I work at the same hospital! And most importantly, he’s so out of my league I doubt he even registers me as a willing female. To him, I’m probably just his kid sister’s friend, a shapeless blob he has to be nice to.

  I look down at my petite figure hiding under my sundress. I’m not shapeless and I’m not a blob, I remind myself, angry that my breakup with Von left my ego so bruised.

  “Lindsey,” Noah says from the other side of my bedroom door.

  Natalie hears her brother and tells me she’ll talk to me later. I hang up and walk over to answer the door.

  Noah’s standing on the other side, shirtless.

  My brain is so slow on the uptake that I’ve stared at his broad tan chest for a solid thirty years before I finally realize he’s asking me a question.

  “You want to come?”

  I gulp.

  Come.

  Like…SEXUALLY?

  I blink rapidly and he narrows his eyes, studying my weird reaction.

  “Down to the beach,” he says, nodding his head in the direction of the water.

  Ah.

  Right.

  “To the beach?! Sure!” I say, not because I actually want to go but because I feel like it’ll be more awkward if I turn him down. Why would I not want to go to the beach right now? It’s not like I flew down to Mexico to lock myself away in my room all week.