“You’re thinking about it?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Who?”

“Xavier…and James”

“Xavier…oh, that guy whom you said made those golden animal statues and decorated the gallery with gold and silver vines, etc, one holiday season?”

“Yes…he got good press out of that through the Art Magazine piece.”

“Through Sonja, you mean,” Tina snorted, tickling Bette on the side as she said so.

Bette smiled, shook her head and glanced at Tina.  She pulled her to stop their walk, tucked her hand under Tina’s chin, and kissed her deeply.  Miles…no…planets away from Sonja’s kiss.

“Mmmmmm… no one’s ever kissed me the way you have, either,” Tina murmured, as Bette pulled back.

They resumed their walk to their villa, arms encircled around each other again.

“James would love it out here, too,” Tina commented, picking up from where Bette left off.

“Are you saying you’d support it?,” Bette asked teasingly, as she glanced again at her wife.  Achingly beautiful in the moonlight, she thought.  Tina was a-glow, too.  Lit up from within.  Do I light her up?

Tina smiled at Bette, feeling her fervent glance.  No one can fake that look, she thought. Just pure, unadulterated love shining from those beautiful brown eyes.  Does she feel my own love for her, too?

They got to the boardwalk that connected their villa to the main island. It was a relatively short distance from the main island, but, “our villa seems like it’s technically part of the resort,” Tina said, as she and Bette walked languidly to the door, “but it feels like it’s somewhere else entirely.”

Bette laughed.  She knew Tina would fall for the whole romantic scene of the island, the other-worldly sense of it.

“You didn’t answer my question,”she observed, as Tina unlocked the door. The blonde was pouring water on the Bette’s feet to wash the sand out from it, and then scooped another large scoop of water from the large jar set to one side of the door, to wash her own feet out.

Tina was chuckling as she let Bette through the door first, and then shut the door behind her, locking it.

Bette had opened a mini-champagne bottle, and had poured out some for Tina, handing her a flute, and then poured a glass out for herself.

They clinked glasses.  “Well?…” Bette pressed, as she pulled Tina towards the open outdoor terrace.  Tina drained her glass, and turned Bette towards the bedroom instead, smiling at the bemused look of her wife, and laid her glass on the table by their bedroom door.

“You’ll get my answer after,” she whispered huskily, as she pushed Bette into the room, shutting the bedroom door behind them.