Chapter 25
“There’s this guy in Yucatán who inherited some family land,” Jasper finally decides to tell me where we’re going after an hour of driving “and he decided to dig a well in his backyard.”
“Then he found a treasure?” I guess, because it sounds way too convenient.
Caribbean, inherited land, wells being dug… everything about it screams secret treasure.
“Almost,” he says. “He found a cenote.”
“You’re serious?”
Which, honestly, is better than treasure.
“A bunch of people started trying to buy the property. Hotel chains, restaurants…” he goes on. “And the guy didn’t want to sell or turn the cenote into a tourist attraction. He usually keeps the place closed, but on some special occasions, he accepts guests.”
“Are we, by any chance, today’s guests?”
“We’re today’s guests,” Jasper confirms. “He also usually cooks a traditional Yucatecan lunch for those guests.”
“Lunch?” I force a surprised look. “On our non-date?”
Jasper lets out a laugh.
This just gets better by the second.
“Because this is starting to look a lot like a date, you know?” Still, he shakes his head in denial. “Private cenote. Traditional lunch. No guy has ever put this much effort into a ‘non-date’ with me.”
“I’m just trying to help you learn more about Mexican cuisine, Jules. You should be thanking me.”
“I know Mexican cuisine very well already, thank you very much,” I answer, acting superior.
But he knocks me right off my pedestal with no effort at all.
“Those Taco Bell burritos you used to eat after getting drunk on Four Loko in college don’t count, you know?”
Just hearing it makes my stomach growl, reminding me I didn’t eat breakfast today.
“I’d kill for some Taco Bell burritos right now.”
“You’re a monster,” he says, offended.
We’re on our way to meet a guy with a private cenote in the Yucatán countryside, and here I am craving Taco Bell. Honestly, even I’m a little offended by myself.
Jasper abandons the theatrics for a moment to check the GPS and informs me, “We’re close. Fifteen more minutes.”
And those fifteen minutes pass in a mix of silence and sarcasm, sure, but also with…
normal moments? Not that sarcasm isn’t normal for us, not that silence stopped being comfortable, but you know.
Normal. I filmed an especially pretty stretch of the road.
I handed him the water bottle when he asked and even unscrewed the cap for him.
I turned on the radio and sang Madonna while he silently judged.
Simple as that. Normal.
Until the car stops in front of a rustic farm with a wooden gate. The kind you actually have to get out of the car to open.
Jasper gets out without complaining. Then he pulls the car through and parks on the other side of the fence. Before he can get out again, I beat him to it and close the gate myself. And this time it’s not even to be annoying or to play the independent woman, it’s to return the favor.
My God, what is happening to us?
Roberto is the owner. He introduces us to his wife and kids before guiding us down a dirt path through the trees, lined with palm trees, cacti, and a whole bunch of native tropical plants.
Looking at it, you’d never guess. Neither Roberto nor the poor guy who left him this land could have imagined it. But here we are. Going down step after step carved into the stone, already blinded by some almost radioactive blue glow even before we see the water.
I don’t need to tell you there aren’t many cenotes in Cincinnati, Ohio. Or in New York. So I was not prepared. At all. For the beauty of the place we walk into next.
After descending who knows how many steps down that carved staircase, we’re inside a cave. The ceiling is a mix of stalactites in every shape and size, and in some parts they blend with roots and little green branches from the plants above, hanging through cracks in the stone.
It’s through those same cracks that the light pours in and hits the water perfectly, making the bottom glow from the inside out. I freeze on the steps, completely stunned.
“This looks like an Indiana Jones movie set,” I tell Jasper, standing behind me.
And even he, the guy who always has the perfect line ready, doesn’t seem interested in saying anything. He just meets my gaze, lips slightly curved, not a smile exactly, just… satisfied.
I don’t think I’ve seen Jasper look so innocently satisfied before.
The steps wrap around the enormous crystalline pool, leading down to a stone platform protected by a small fence made of branches, where a round table and two chairs await.
Because it’s one of the lowest areas of the cave and not much light reaches it, the entire wall is dotted with tiny points of warm yellow light that, as we approach, I realize are candles.
It’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
And Jasper is the one who’s doing this.
I seriously need eight hours of sleep because I’m almost positive this is a hallucination.
Roberto finishes explaining everything about the place, pointing out that the bathroom is up above, and gestures toward a small folding screen made of the same branch-like wood in the corner, where I can change.
He tells us about discovering the cenote and explains their importance to the Mayan people and how they’re still considered sacred today.
Our conversation is a mix of English and Spanish, and I’m pretty sure he’s emphasizing all of that because he doesn’t want us having sex in here.
He also tells us lunch will be ready in about an hour, so we have plenty of time to swim, take pictures, and enjoy our date.
I look at Jasper immediately, waiting for him to correct Roberto for calling this a date, but he says nothing. My jaw drops and stays like that until Roberto climbs the steps back to the surface, leaving us alone.
“What?” Jasper finally asks, smug.
“You’re a box of chocolates, Jasper Hassmann,” is all I say.
“I have no idea what that means.”
He has clearly never seen Forrest Gump in his life, an insult to world cinema, but at least it gives me the chance to sound completely original when I reply, “You never know what you’re gonna get.”
He presses his lips together.
“Is that bad?”
“No.”
“Is it good?”
“Also no. It’s just…” I pause, searching for the right word. “Intriguing.”
He immediately flashes a dirty little grin.
“Intriguing enough for me to get lucky tonight?”
“Is that why you’re doing all of this? To get lucky tonight?” I ask, eyebrows raised.
“Of course. Why else would it be?”
I roll my eyes, already anticipating the nonsense he’s about to say because he takes a step back, like he’s keeping a safe distance so I won’t hit him.
“It’s always been my dream to have sex inside a cenote.”
When I step forward, he lifts both hands defensively.
“I’m kidding.” Then he steps back again. “I don’t want you getting arrested for being naked where you shouldn’t be. Again.”
A bigger step now.
A bigger smile, too.
“Besides, I don’t need to try that hard to get lucky with you, Julie. You’re very, very easy.”
It takes some effort, but my closed fist still manages to land on his stomach. The problem is, I’m sure every muscle in his abs was flexed from the start, protecting his organs from any damage.
Jasper has never done anything without planning it thoroughly.
My only option is a different kind of attack.
“You just ruined every chance you had of getting lucky tonight, sir.”
“No, I didn’t,” he says, stepping closer, his dark eyes almost reflecting the candlelight all around us.
No, he didn’t.
“Yes, you did!”
“We’ll talk about it later,” he says, voice firm and decided, like I don’t get a say in any of this. “Now take off your clothes and put on something sexy for me.”
I inhale deeply. Very, very deeply.
“And don’t try to hit me again, you know how much I like it.”
I’d say I’m planning to stab him someday, but I’m pretty sure the bastard would enjoy that too.
I stay frozen in place, watching as Jasper begins unbuttoning his shirt. Only when he finishes doing that does he turn to face me again, shirt open, his chest rising and falling slowly with every breath. His abs appear and disappear as he takes another step closer.
“I might do that, if you guarantee we’re gonna see the pyramid,” I say, using the tiny leverage I have to negotiate my interests.
That doesn’t happen often, you know.
“We are, Julie. We’re gonna see the pyramid,” Jasper grumbles impatiently. “You’re like a stubborn child.”
But I ignore his whining and bolt behind the screen to change clothes.