After stopping in all the small towns on the way to Daphne from the airport, I suggested Josh take the highway to Orange Beach. I didn’t want to be tempted to stop again and really wanted to sink my toes into the sand and relax in his arms under our private cabana.
The reservations were made under my name, as we’ve decided to use it as long as possible until people realize we’re here and start hounding him. Josh reminds me that I’ll be the subject of a lot of scrutiny once the media gets wind that I’m with him. I can handle it; at least I think I can. I suppose nothing
prepares you for people following you around taking your picture, or stopping you on the street and asking for a selfie. One thing Josh has promised me is that when we’re eating dinner, he won’t engage fans, but asked that I understand that when shopping or walking down the street with him it’s a different story. I get it. He doesn’t want to ruin the fan base, and if I saw him trotting along I’d be asking for a picture too. It’s in our nature, I think as a fan. As much as I love being with him, I know there are going to be times when I hate his career. Even as a fan I fantasized about being with him. Being there with the glitz and glamour, standing proud next to him as our photos are being taken. And now that I know him and have had a taste with the spotlight, I can’t see how the spouses don’t crack under pressure.
Love conquers all, though, and that’s the motto I’m going to live by.
Absentmindedly, my hand slips into his as I stare out the window at the passing cars. Young women, with the tops to their cute little cars down, are oblivious of the fact that I’m holding hands with Joshua Wilson. I have no doubt in my mind that if they could see through the tinted windows their phones would be out and all sense of responsibility would be lost as they try and snap a picture of him.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks as he exits the highway. Right before my eyes is the most pristine waters I have ever seen. I know they’re not best, but seeing the white sands and the crystal blue waters is enough to make me catch my breath. I’ve always loved the ocean, but now it’s going to have a different meaning, being here with Josh on our honeymoon.
“Nothing in particular.”
“Must’ve been something because I saw you frown.”
Did he? Was he paying that close attention to me while I was daydreaming?
Glancing over at him, I smile. “I was remembering a time when I fantasized about being with you, like this.” I hold up our conjoined hands. “And now I’m wondering if it’s just a dream.”
He picks up our joined hands and kisses mine, then places them back on his lap and continues to navigate to the parking lot. “We spent ninety-days locked in a house together. I hope by now you’ve come to terms that this is real and I want to be with you.”
“But you hate marriage,” I blurt out without thinking. His aversion to marriage has never left my mind. In fact, thoughts of him deciding this isn’t for him plague me. Will I wake up one day and find his bags packed by the door with a somber expression on his face, telling me he’s leaving? Or better yet, will he cheat because that is the example his parents set for him? My parents have a happy marriage, but it’s not without trials and tribulations. I remember them fighting a lot when I was younger, but they never seemed to stay angry at each other for long and I always went to bed with the image of my mom wrapped in my dad’s arms.
After turning off the car, Josh angles his body as much as he can to look at me. His fingers caress my cheek and a shy smile plays along my lips as he does. I can’t help but lean into his touch and wonder if this feeling will ever go away.
“I did, and I probably still do, but you make everything seem effortless. Maybe it’s the newness of being in love or the fact that you and I connected on a different level. I don’t know, but I don’t want this feeling to go away. When I try to look at the future, you’re standing by my side. There were many nights that I laid awake with you sleeping on my chest, and wondered what it was going to be like outside the house with you not next to me. Each time, my heart ached, Joey. And that was something I didn’t like feeling.”
He leans toward me and I meet him halfway. When our lips touch, it feels like it’s the first time again. Everything I felt on stage comes rushing back and I find myself holding him to my lips longer, afraid of letting the memory go. The rush of excitement, the lights and the audience are on instant replay as his lips move softly along mine.
When we break for air, he whispers, “Wow.” And I know he felt it, too.
He kisses me again, quickly, before exiting the car and running in front of it and to my door. It’s funny, I never expected him to be a gentleman, especially considering he has people that do these things for him, but he is and I like it a lot. When I was with my ex, he didn’t hold the door or rush ahead to open it. He lagged back and waited for me to open it. I was annoyed at first, but grew accustomed to just doing it myself. I suppose that should’ve been my first sign that we were doomed.
With his hand held out to me, he helps me out of the car. Josh plants a kiss right on my lips, out in the open for everyone to see.
“I’m going to go check us in,” I tell him breathlessly. Maybe we should’ve stayed in the hotel for another day before venturing outside. I like the idea of being wrapped in his arms, but I also like the thought of being outside and frolicking in the water with him.
Once we are checked in, the cabana boy—no, that’s not his official title—takes us to where we’re going to be staying. It’s private in the sense that no one can see into our cabana unless they’re walking by, but definitely wide open in the aspect that the beach is public. Josh thanks him and gives him a tip.
“Do you think he recognized you?” I ask as I set out our beach towels on the chaise lounges.
“If he did, he won’t say anything. Most places like to keep their reputation of being a place celebrities can visit. It’d suck if I posted something negative.”
“Would you do that?” I inquire. I’m curious to know if it’s something he’d do if our location were outted.
“Depends. Here, probably not. We’re out in public and it’s to be expected, although not from an employee. If we were somewhere private, yes, I’d expect complete anonymity.”
“Should I expect the same?”
“Absolutely,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “If you decide to go to the spa, I would expect them to treat you better than they treat me.”
My fingers play with the ends of his hair. It’s surreal to think that his name gives me any sort of power in the circle of Hollywood. I don’t even know how I’d go about using it for something like that.
“You’re my wife and everyone knows it. When you call to make a hair appointment, or schedule a manicure, these places aren’t going to tell anyone. They’re used to keeping their client lists to themselves.”
“It’s so strange.”
“You’ll get used to it, but what you won’t get used to is this.” Josh suddenly scoops me in his arms and an errant squeal escapes through my parted lips. I expect him to toss me onto the chaise, but instead he takes off running toward the ocean.