Chapter 3
Bait and Switch
Lexi took a picture of her pina colada and sent it to Anna so her bestie would know she was putting herself out there and having a spectacular time. Well, at least she was putting herself out there and enjoying her tropical cocktail.
Wearing her singlehood like a bright neon-pink sign was so awkward.
She stood out like fireworks in a snowstorm.
Anna would argue Lexi should own it, at least for one night, so she could experience the same kind of scorching-hot sex the characters in Anna’s steamy novels enjoyed.
The thought tickled Lexi’s tummy—with excitement or indigestion, she wasn’t sure.
Her sex life with Conrad had been … passable.
He wasn’t the adventurous type, and he’d preferred blow jobs over intercourse, which had been fine at first because she had enjoyed giving them to him.
Not because he’d tasted good, but because she’d loved giving him pleasure.
He, however, hadn’t been so eager to reciprocate.
Consequently, she’d spent much of their three-year relationship frustrated, though she’d gotten really good at giving head. So there was that.
The few times he’d put his face between her legs, he’d stopped short and raised his head with a sour look.
Didn’t matter how much she’d washed beforehand.
And using his fingers? He’d scrub them raw with a manicure brush afterward.
His reactions should have been her first clue …
her fifth, her tenth. But she had been inexperienced, and she’d been in love.
Could she have sex with someone she didn’t know on this trip? One-night stands and anonymous hookups had never appealed. There had to be a strong attraction and some kind of heart connection. How could you forge an intimate link, even a weak one, in only a few hours?
Don’t overthink. Go with the flow. If he’s hot, jump his bones—or let him jump yours. Don’t even ask his name! Anna goaded her.
Pulling out the umbrella skewer, she slid off the pineapple chunk with her teeth.
The juice burst in her mouth. So good. Pineapple in Colorado was a luxury Lexi rarely allowed herself, and even on the few occasions when she did, the flavor simply couldn’t compare to the fresh, tropical stuff she was currently munching.
A sudden idea struck: Maybe she could get a job writing copy for the Sapphire about their delicious drinks.
Of course, she’d have to sample them all, multiple times, to get the details just right.
She was good with details, which was one of the traits that made her a great employee.
She executed an inner eye-roll and reminded herself she was on vacation; this was no time to wallow. She needed to let that part of her life go, just as her employer had let her go.
She panned the room filled with couples exchanging flirty looks and smiles.
Had she and Conrad ever looked that way?
She recalled staring at him with adoration, but she couldn’t remember him looking at her like that.
Had he ever loved her? It didn’t matter now, except she wanted to glean something positive from her heartbreak.
Learn from her past so she would be aware the next time around—if a next time came—and avoid the same mistakes.
Protect herself from being so utterly blindsided.
Looking back, she could see the many cues she’d missed. The way he never called simply to hear her voice. The way he forgot her birthday or the anniversary of their first date. The cavalier way he shifted his plans with her for a golfing buddy but never rearranged a tee time to be with her.
Conrad had been her second—her first had been her high school boyfriend the night before he left for college, and it had ended way too soon after much fumbling—so she wasn’t sure she had a great frame of reference for what fantastic sex actually was.
From the steamy bits Anna would read aloud from her romance novels, there was a whole other world behind closed bedroom doors, and Lexi was curious about that world.
She longed to break out of her shell and discover other … possibilities.
Her gaze strafed the bar for eligible men—that’s where single guys usually hung out, right?
—but unfortunately snagged on Mr. Smartass minus the sunglasses and the riotous kaleidoscope previously covering his torso.
Naturally, he was single. Who’d want to spend time getting quilled by a porcupine?
He had exchanged the cacophony of color for a faded sage T-shirt with some washed-out logo on it, board shorts in subtle shades of blue, and worn flip-flops.
His untrimmed golden-brown hair curled over his collar, and days of dark stubble dotted his square jaw.
He looked borderline unkempt. How had he described himself?
“Current beach bum.” Yes, that fit. He’d also referred to himself as a former hero, and she’d detected a hint of melancholy there—not that she wanted to find out why the label was “former” and why it evoked sympathy.
Mr. Smartass was definitely not bed-partner material.
But when he turned and smiled at his buddy, Lexi’s heart stopped.
He was the gorgeous man she’d told Anna about.
All dark wavy hair and chocolate-brown eyes and smooth olive skin.
Oh mama, that man was going to the top of her prospects list—assuming he was available, of course, and had a decent personality.
Maybe Mr. Smartass could share some intel.
From their easy exchange, they were obviously friends.
For the next fifteen minutes, she kept her eyes on Mr. Dark-and-Handsome, ducking whenever one of the two men looked in her direction. Mostly, it was Mr. Smartass glancing her way, with a disapproving frown creasing the spot between his brows. What was the guy’s problem?
Sometime during her focused study, her empty pina colada was replaced with a fresh one.
Lexi attacked the pineapple before sampling the drink.
The cocktails grew more delicious with each sip, and she told herself to slow down.
The bartender probably used some sort of magic swizzle stick.
Oh yes, she certainly could pen a piece for the resort.
Mr. D-and-H downed the rest of his shot and slid from his barstool, laughed at something Mr. Smartass said, and cut through a swath of people on his way out of the bar. He seemed to be on a mission, and he never glanced her way.
With him gone, though, she got her chance for a little research.
She sucked down the rest of her drink and headed toward Mr. Smartass.
He watched her the entire way with an intense gaze that had her thinking twice about the wisdom of her mission, but she soldiered on.
When she took the barstool Mr. D-and-H had just vacated, Mr. S.
reared back. The ghost of a smile played on his full mouth.
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I have two perfectly even shoes, and I don’t plan to hold you up in a line or stumble into you.”
He smirked. Of course he did. “Things are improving.”
“I’m also not here because I’m interested in you for … you know.”
His brows flew to his tousled hairline in surprise. “Good to know. I’m not interested in you for ‘you know’ either.” He air-quoted the “you know.”
Ha! As if he could talk a woman into bed in his current state of dishevelment and smartassedness.
“Good. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we both know we’re on equal footing here.”
“Especially now that you have both heels.” He made a big show of leaning over and checking out her sandals.
She let out an errant giggle, remembered herself, and yanked on the hem of her too-short dress.
Mr. Smartass’s eyes—they were greenish gray, like his T-shirt—drifted down to where she tried to turn a short skirt into a longer one.
Why had she let Anna talk her into this micro dress?
Her friend’s voice chirped in its usual unfiltered way: “If you want a penis tickling your lady parts anytime this century, you have to show it where to go.”
She cleared her throat, and Mr. Smartass’s eyes snapped back up to hers. Maybe he liked what he saw—not that she wanted him to like her bare legs, but it boded well for her chances with his friend.
The cute bartender—Matt—appeared with a questioning lift of his brow, and Mr. Smartass asked Lexi what she was drinking.
“Penis coladas.” Horror flushed her face, and she covered her mouth as if she could reel the words back. Meanwhile, both men’s eyes went wide, and choked laughter soon followed. She was too mortified to look at either of them.
Omigod. I can’t believe I just said that!
Matt recovered his composure swiftly, while Mr. Smartass’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “I don’t remember seeing that one on the drink menu. What’s in it?” His voice reminded her less of gravel and much more of something sinfully smooth, like toasted caramel.
“I-I … What I meant was, um …”
Matt bailed her out. At least he was a good guy. “May I fix you another pina colada?” He might have put a little too much emphasis on the drink’s true name, but she wanted to hug him anyway.
“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Her calm voice was probably betrayed by her face, which had to look like she’d been sitting by the pool all day without sunscreen.
“Coming right up.” Matt pointed at her neighbor’s half-empty glass. “Refill for you, sir?”
Mr. Smartass held up two fingers. “Thanks, and make it a double order for the lady. On my tab.”
On his tab? The guy was rude and pushy. More proof he had pegged himself well with the smartass label. A moment too late, his entire drink order registered.
“Oh no, I can’t drink that much.”
Mr. S. shrugged. “You don’t have to finish them. I just thought I’d save our bartender an extra trip for refills. Plus, his tip goes up.”