Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Ispend three glorious hours in the spa soaking in a mineral spring, sitting in a steam room, and receiving a massage from a woman with magical hands.
She turns my body to putty, working out all the knots in my muscles.
I’ve never felt better. As I emerge from the locker room, Fernando is waiting for me in the reception area.
“Somebody looks happy.” He laughs. “I take it you had a good time.”
“The best. I’m glad you forced my hand. I didn’t know how much I needed it.”
“Your back is feeling better, then?” he asks.
“Much.” We slowly walk side by side out the glass doors to one of the many garden areas. “How was your massage?”
“I can’t tell you. I didn’t end up getting one. I’ve been playing phone tag with my aunt and waiting on the car people.”
That’s right. I’d forgotten about the whole thing with the concierge and the tow truck. I stop walking. The lightness I felt a few minutes ago has been replaced by a harsh return to reality. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all good. I have my trusty old heating pad. It works as well as any masseuse.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Anyway, I have some great news and some bad news to share with you.”
“Okay. Give me the bad news first. I’d rather get it over with.”
“When the tow truck driver turned up, it turned out we had two flats instead of one. I was hoping the shop it’s been taken to would be able to put on a new set of tires today.
But when I spoke to the mechanic, he let me know the ones we need are special order.
It’ll be three days before he can get them in. ”
I inhale air sharply. “That stinks. Our schedule was already ambitious. Spending two extra days here isn’t what we wanted, but there isn’t much we can do about it. We can’t drive without tires.”
“Well, we could return the rental and get a new one. But the fees for returning it in its current condition are going to be astronomical.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It’s better to wait it out.”
“No, I agree. What’s the good news?”
“Do you remember when the concierge mentioned us staying here for two nights?”
I nod.
“Well as it turns out, Tía Yesenia is giving me an early Christmas present. We have an all-expenses-paid stay for the next two nights.”
“All expenses paid,” I repeat.
“Uh-huh. She reserved the best room at the resort for us. We don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to, but I thought considering the circumstances . . .” He trails off.
“I’m not one to turn my nose up at a gift like that. If your aunt has already paid for everything, we’re staying. Unless you think we shouldn’t.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” His tone shifts to confusion.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’d want to enjoy your gift alone.”
“No. Tía Yesenia was crystal clear that this was for the pair of us. Remember, she thinks we’re a couple.”
I nod. “We’d better make sure we take more photos here so we can show them to her when we meet.”
“Definitely.” He pulls out a key card from his pocket. “Come on, let’s go check out the room. Javier said the private elevator is near the reception desk.”
I dry swallow. A private elevator to the presidential suite. Is this really my life right now?
The door swings open to the living room and my jaw drops.
This is hands down one of the nicest rooms I’ve ever seen.
“I think my whole apartment could fit inside here.” I walk over to the window and draw the curtains back.
The entire wall is a window that overlooks the ocean.
The water is a stunning turquoise color, filled with tiny dots of seabirds, surfers, and boats.
Spinning around, I take in the remainder of the room. There are two couches, a recliner, a glass coffee table, a fireplace, and an entertainment set with a large TV. The dark-green walls are tastefully decorated with seascape portraits of what I’m guessing is the Valencia area.
I continue my tour, entering the dining room next.
The wooden walls are adorned with a hundred different seashells.
There’s a long rectangular table that could fit about ten people, surrounded by light-blue chairs.
The place settings are made from crystal and fine china.
I pick up a wineglass and turn it over in my hand—there’s a pattern of tiny seashells. “I wonder if this is all handmade.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Fernando says, casually leaning against the door frame. “This is the nicest suite I’ve ever stayed in, but I just noticed we may have a slight problem.”
I return the glass to the table and face him. “What do you mean?”
“There’s only one bedroom.”
“Oh.” My mouth drops open. Of all the possible problems, only one bed has never crossed my mind. One of my rules for us traveling together has been that we have to have separate rooms wherever we’re staying, but I guess that’s about to fly out the door.
“Um, I think we can manage. That is if you don’t mind me claiming the living room sofa,” I say.
“Nuh-uh.” Fernando’s brows knit together. “The bedroom is yours. If anyone is going to be sleeping on the sofa, it’s me.”
“But this is your Christmas gift. You should have the bed.”
He shakes his head. “You’re the one with the sore back. Not to mention you’re supposed to be the princess. I’d never steal the bed from you.”
Here we go again. Both of us being stubborn. “What if one of us got the bed tonight and the other tomorrow?”
“I suppose it’s the best compromise we’ll be able to come up with.” His jaw stiffens. “But it won’t stop me from trying to convince you to keep the bed.”
“You can try all you want.” I chuckle. “I’m good at holding my ground.”
“So am I.” He crosses his arms. “Challenge accepted.”
We stare at one another for a solid thirty seconds, neither wanting to break first. Eventually, I give in.
There’s too much I want to see and do. “Did the concierge happen to give you a list of the hotel amenities? This might be the only time I’ll ever get to spend in a place like this.
I don’t know about you, but I’d like to take full advantage of every offering. ”
“A girl after my own heart.”
His words send a warm, tingling feeling through my body.
“It’s all on the hotel app.” He whips out his phone.
“The username is Alvarez and the password is our room number, 3013.” He hands me the device.
“Let me know what interests you first. I was thinking about going snorkeling this afternoon, but there’s also golf, a pottery class, and wine tasting, just to name a few of the activities. ”
“Snorkeling in winter? Isn’t the water too cold?”
“You forgot who you’re asking.” He smirks. “I work in an ice rink for a living. With a wet suit, the cold doesn’t bother me.”
I cock my head. “You’re one of those people who does polar plunges aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged.” He chuckles. “You’re welcome to join me.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I shiver. “Ice-cold water is for drinking, not swimming in.”
“It’s not that cold. Maybe sixty-three degrees?”
“That’s cold enough.” He shrugs, and I pop open the app, log in, and begin swiping through the electronic brochure.
My eyes bulge. Fernando saying there were a few activities offered by the resort is the understatement of the century.
There’s page after page of various offerings.
I glance up. “It could take us a month or more to try everything they have here. I’ll have to make a top-ten list.”
He nods and checks the time on his phone. “We still have a couple hours of daylight. If you’re not interested in snorkeling, would you mind if I went?”
“Knock yourself out. While you do that, I think I’ll head to the beach. It may be too cold to swim, but it’s warm enough to sit out and soak up the sun while I make some calls home.”
Fernando flashes me a thumbs-up. “I’m gonna go change. I’ll meet you back here in a couple minutes. We can walk down to the beach together.”
I grab my swimsuit from my suitcase and step into the guest bathroom.
Although I normally would’ve donned the black one-piece I’ve had for a couple years, Daphne insisted I update my swim attire and swap for a bikini for this trip.
I can still hear her voice. “Everyone in Europe wears a bikini. If you wear a one-piece, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb. ”
I stare at the white floral print. It’s another leap out of my comfort zone. I don’t typically wear something so girly or white. I dress for comfort. When I’m not in scrubs, I live in my black leggings, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. I take a deep breath and slip into it, sliding a blue sundress over it.
“You ready, Ava?” Fernando calls out a few minutes later.
“Coming, I just need to wash the sunscreen off my hands.”
Once my hands are clean, I reach for my hat and sunglasses and enter the living room.
“Do you think—” I’m frozen in my tracks.
I need to dive headfirst into the cold ocean, pronto.
Fernando is wearing nothing but a pair of fitted swim trunks that don’t leave much to the imagination.
All those times I’ve wondered what was under his clothing, and now, I officially have my answer. He’s a lean, mean, ripped machine.
“Do I think what?”
“Uh . . .” I fumble for an excuse. “I should put sunscreen on my back too? I couldn’t reach it. I mean, I’ll probably just be lying in a chair and not exposing that much skin, but better to be protected just in case.” I force a laugh.
It’s hard to focus when every tiny movement he makes shows off the way he’s built.
His chest, arms, back—all of it looks like it’s been chiseled out of marble.
His broad shoulders taper into a lean waist, and when he shifts, I catch a glimpse of his abs.
They’re a little soft, but I can still make out six squares. My brain short-circuits.
And this is him after retiring? What kind of shape was he in when he was competing? I always knew he was strong—lifting humans over your head takes a lot of muscle and power—but now I can see it. And wow. Just wow.