Chapter 36 36.

Chapter 36 36.
Chapter 36: Ashley’s POV

I officially hated Amanpulo. Because apparently paradise turned Marcus Bryson into an even bigger problem. The man should honestly stay inside boardrooms permanently for public safety.

After insulting my hat, Marcus casually grabbed a towel from one of the resort staff before sitting on the empty lounger across from us like he belonged in luxury beach advertisements.

Which unfortunately—he did. Meanwhile my friends were acting embarrassing. Especially Troy. He kept staring at Marcus openly like he was studying modern art.

“Please stop looking at him like that,” I muttered under my breath.

“I’m appreciating beauty respectfully.” I rolled my eyes.

“There is nothing respectful about your face right now.” Steve nearly laughed into his drink. Vanessa simply removed her sunglasses slightly while looking toward me.

“You’re handling him surprisingly well.”

I frowned. “Him?”

Vanessa gestured lazily toward Marcus. “He’s usually worse during vacations.”

Marcus looked entirely unbothered. “I’m sitting quietly.”

“You insulted my hat within thirty seconds,” I reminded him.

“Because it’s enormous.”

“It’s fashion.”

“It’s a portable roof.”

Troy suddenly defended me dramatically. “The hat is iconic.”

“Thank you.”

Marcus leaned back comfortably against the lounger afterward while crossing one arm behind his head. And honestly? That movement should not have affected me the way it did.

Pregnancy hormones were humiliating. Steve looked between us suspiciously again before grinning.

“Oh yeah,” he muttered. “There’s definitely something weird here.”

“There isn’t,” Marcus and I answered immediately.

Again. Silence followed. Then Troy pointed aggressively.

“See? That synchronized answer thing is terrifying.” Vanessa actually smirked slightly this time. Meanwhile I wanted to drown peacefully in the ocean. To save myself, I immediately stood up from the lounger.

“I’m swimming.”

Mia looked toward me instantly. “Don’t go too far.”

“Yes, Mom.”

I started walking toward the shoreline quickly before this conversation destroyed my remaining dignity. Unfortunately—after only a few steps—Marcus stood too.

Oh no. Steve looked delighted.

“Interesting.” Marcus ignored him completely before casually following after me toward the water. I turned around immediately in disbelief.

“Why are you following me?”

“You look like you’re about to drown out of spite.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It does for you.”

I narrowed my eyes aggressively while warm ocean water touched my feet. “You’re ruining my peaceful beach morning.”

“And yet you keep talking to me.” That shut me up briefly.

Annoying man. Marcus stepped slightly closer afterward while the breeze moved softly around us. Then quietly—“You do look nice today, Ashley.”

Oh. Oh no. Because somehow—that simple honest compliment affected me more than all the teasing combined.

I stared at Marcus for a full second. Because honestly? That compliment sounded far too sincere coming from him. No teasing. No sarcasm. No smart remarks.

Just—honest. And somehow that made it significantly more dangerous. The ocean breeze moved softly between us while shallow water touched our feet. I crossed my arms defensively almost immediately.

“You’re acting strange today.”

Marcus looked calm. “I gave you a compliment.”

“Exactly.” A faint amused breath escaped him. Tiny laugh again. Honestly? I needed him to stop doing that. Not so funny anymore.

“You really don’t know what to do when someone’s nice to you, huh?” he asked quietly.

Excuse me? “I know how to handle kindness.”

“You look suspicious every time it happens.”

“That’s survival instinct.”

Marcus shook his head slightly before looking toward the ocean. For a brief second—silence settled between us again. But this silence felt softer somehow.

Less argumentative. More dangerous.

I looked down toward the water carefully while adjusting my oversized hat dramatically.

“Well,” I muttered lightly, “thank you I guess.”

Marcus glanced at me again. “For what?”

“The compliment.”

“You’re welcome.”

Simple. Again. Why did simple things from him suddenly feel heavier lately? This island seriously needed regulations.

From farther behind us, Steve suddenly shouted loudly—“Are you two flirting or fighting?”

I closed my eyes immediately. “Oh my God.”

Marcus looked completely unbothered. Meanwhile Troy yelled back—“At this point we genuinely can’t tell!”

I turned toward Marcus accusingly. “See what your existence causes?”

“My existence?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the one standing here blushing.”

I froze instantly. Then aggressively—“I am not blushing.”

Marcus looked entirely unconvinced. Which unfortunately meant—I probably was. I tried very hard to ignore the fact Marcus Bryson was standing ridiculously close beside me.

Very hard. The ocean looked too inviting anyway. Clear water. Warm sunlight. Peaceful atmosphere. I needed distraction before my brain completely melted from his random compliments.

So without overthinking further, I removed my white cover-up carefully and tossed it onto one of the nearby loungers. Immediately—the ocean breeze touched my exposed skin. And unfortunately—so did Marcus’s attention. I felt it instantly.

Dangerous. Very dangerous.

Because suddenly the yellow two-piece swimsuit didn’t feel like a harmless fashion decision anymore. I pretended not to notice him for the sake of my remaining dignity and stepped closer toward the water instead.

But before my feet could even fully touch the ocean—Marcus spoke.

“Did you put sunscreen?” I blinked slowly. Then turned toward him in disbelief.

“…What?”

Marcus looked entirely serious. “Sunscreen.”

I stared at him for another second. “You stopped me dramatically for skincare?”

“You burn easily.”

Excuse me? “How would you know that?”

“You complained about it once after a company event.”

Oh. Oh no.

Because apparently Marcus remembered random things about me too now. Dangerous information. I crossed my arms immediately.

“That’s actually creepy.”

“It’s observation.”

“That’s what serial killers say.”

Marcus ignored that completely. “So?”

“So what?”

“Did you put sunscreen?”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Yes, Dad.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes slightly. “You’re sarcastic when embarrassed.”

“I’m sarcastic always.”

A tiny smirk appeared briefly again. Then unfortunately—his gaze dropped lower for one dangerous second before returning to my face. And somehow—that single glance made heat crawl straight up my neck.

Oh my God. This is so bad.

Steve’s voice suddenly echoed loudly from behind us—“MARCUS BRYSON WORRIED ABOUT SUNSCREEN?”

Troy gasped dramatically. “THAT’S BASICALLY MARRIAGE.”

Seriously? When are they going to stop all these unnecessary side comments?