Chapter 15
15
T hey floated for another lap around the lazy river after the wave machine turned off. Greer had squeezed the water out of her hair after the waterfall, and now she brushed it back, fluffing it with her fingers as it dried.
Looking at her, Dean’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t wanted a woman this badly since his divorce. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted a woman this badly.
He’d loved the feel of her hand in his, her skin smooth against his rougher palms. And he relished that kiss. He’d have gone on kissing her under the waterfall if the beat of the water hadn’t driven them apart. And yet, for all his emotions, he hesitated to go any further. He was a workaholic father who didn’t intend to have another serious relationship, especially with a woman he could disappoint the way he’d disappointed his wife and daughters. Greer’s boyfriend had just dumped her. A myriad of emotions went along with that, and he didn’t want to cause her any more heartache.
Yet he couldn’t stop wanting her touch, her taste, her kiss.
They dunked themselves once again by the exit steps, trying to get out of the unwieldy inner tubes. Greer came up laughing, swiping her hair and once again squeezing out the water. “It was just starting to dry,” she complained with a pout.
Dean couldn’t resist another kiss, this one short and sweet, with the taste of laughter on her lips. Then he held her hand as they climbed out of the water.
Her smile was contagious as they crossed the patio, then a bridge over a pool where kids played Marco Polo, screaming out the words. Passing a server carrying two pineapple drinks, Greer grabbed Dean’s arm. “What are those?”
The bartender had sliced off the pineapple tops, pinned cherries to the pineapple skin for eyes, and used stubby carrot pieces for the nose and orange slices for a mouth.
“Pineapple daiquiris,” the young server said, her smile wide. “But you can have any kind of daiquiri you want.”
Greer clapped her hands like Nana. “Thank you.” Then she hung on Dean’s arm. “We have to order those when we get back to the beach. The pineapple face is just too hard to resist. It’s as cute as the coconut drink Bernice had the other day.”
He loved her laughter, her childlike enthusiasm, her sweet scent. She should have smelled like the chlorine of the lazy river, and yet he scented something more, something fruity, maybe mangoes, something that was all her.
As they crossed the wooden bridge behind the Aztec pyramid, delighted peels of childish laughter floated down to them. Dean pulled Greer down a path that led to the pyramids’ pump room. He didn’t care about the noise. All he wanted to do was touch her. Now.
Gathering her into his arms, he took her mouth, sweetly, slowly at first, her lips parting, the kiss deepening. Then she slid her arms around his neck, pulling him close, the imprint of her breasts against his chest, the rock hardness of what she did to him against her belly.
They broke apart only at the sound of voices on the nearby path.
But Dean didn’t let her go, finger-combing her hair away from her face. She tipped her head back, and he was glad they’d left their sunglasses back on the beach so he could read her eyes, warm with desire.
He’d wanted to say he’d never fallen so hard for a woman. But his heart hurt that he couldn’t tell her his feelings. This could never be more than a fling. Even as much as he wanted to pretend it could be. It felt like a corny romance movie. Man meets woman and they do all the things they’ve only ever dreamed of. Then they both fly off into the sunset in opposite directions.
Except that in a romance movie, the man and woman always meet again. But Greer still needed to deal with the lover she lived with. And Dean was still a workaholic dad.
None of those thoughts came out of his mouth. Instead, he cupped her face in his palms and ran his thumb across her lips. “You’re beautiful.” Then he kissed her again, long and sweet, drinking in her flavors and her scent.
He didn’t want to think about the end of the movie. He wanted to live in the romance with her in his arms.
On the beach, the girls were racing back to the lounge chairs, squealing at the heat of the sand, their suits wet from the ocean.
“We just saw an amazing drink served in a pineapple,” Dean said. “You want one?”
“What kind of drink?” Lisa asked, brushing sand from her feet before flopping back on the chair.
“Pineapple daiquiri,” he said. “Greer and I are each having one.”
Dean’s gaze on her sent tingles along Greer’s skin, snatches of sensation when he’d kissed her and looked deep into her eyes.
“And they have these?—”
Greer shot her hand out to stop him, remembering only at the last moment not to actually touch him. “Don’t ruin the surprise,” she said with a smile.
He chuckled. “Okay. I won’t spoil it. I’m ordering four of them just for fun.”
“Is that the pineapple drink with the eyes, nose, and mouth?” Cynthia asked innocently. Or not so innocent.
Dean flopped dramatically against his lounge chair. “You spoiled the surprise.”
Cynthia laughed, and Greer felt happiness well up inside her for Dean. They were like a father and daughter who didn’t have a single problem with each other.
“I’d love one, Dad. Thank you.” She looked at her sister, and Lisa added, though with a slight hesitation, “Me too. Thanks, Dad.”
Dean stood. “I’ll go get them.”
Cynthia swept her hand toward the waiter a few lounge chairs down. “Just ask him.”
But Dean waved her off. “That’ll take way too long.” He turned to Greer. “Will you help you carry?”
“Of course.”
Though he held out his hand, she didn’t take it, conscious of his daughters. They stopped at his mother’s lounge chair. “Any aftereffects?”
Behind her heart-shaped sunglasses, Greer was sure Nana’s eyes matched the radiant smile on her lips. “Best day eh-vah,” she elongated the word just like her grandchildren.
Dean’s smile was as brilliant as Nana’s. “I’m ordering pineapple daiquiris. You want one?”
“That would be awesome,” Nana drawled. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“Any other takers?”
There were so many takers that his three sisters jumped up to help carry all the drinks, but not before Greer grabbed Dean’s hand. “I’ll charge it to my room.” He opened his mouth, and she put her fingers against his lips. “I’m paying. Promise?”
Shaking his head, he finally smiled. “All right. I promise. And thank you.” She gave him her room number for the charge.
As they scurried across the hot sand, Greer found herself separated from Dean as Bernice hooked her arm around her elbow.
“You make my brother happy.”
Greer didn’t know what to say, which gave Bernice permission to go on. “I mean it. He actually looks happy. And things look better with the girls. You’re a fabulous influence, Greer.”
Greer had to deny it. “It’s not me. He’s really trying to work things out with them. He loves them very much, and it breaks his heart that the relationship isn’t as good as he’d like.”
Bernice stroked her arm as Dean got in line at the cart. “You understand perfectly,” she said. “It’s very good for him.”
Greer had to stop her. “Please, Bernice, don’t matchmake for us.”
Bernice laughed so loudly that Dean turned his head. Greer was glad Fabiola and Sylvia were up at the counter with him.
“It doesn’t look like I have to do any matchmaking at all. You two are hitting it off splendidly.”
Greer’s chest tightened. She enjoyed his kisses, his touches, but she wanted it to be private. “We might have hit it off. But this really isn’t a relationship. When we get back home…” She shrugged, hoping Bernice would get it without her having to say the words.
But Bernice waved a nonchalant hand. “You don’t have to think about going home right now.” She leaned in close to drop a kiss on Greer’s cheek. “I know you’ve got a relationship you have to deal with. And truly, I’m not pushing you two together. I just want you to enjoy this vacation. Especially after what you’ve been through. I want Dean to enjoy himself too.”
Dean signaled as the server handed over the first of the pineapple drinks.
While Sylvia took that tray, Bernice added, “You’re coming to the island dinner show tomorrow night, aren’t you?”
Greer opened her mouth, saying, “I—” only to have Bernice cut her off. “You have to come. Phillip already got your ticket. Do you have anything pretty to wear?”
Greer had already picked out her clothes for the trip before the fight with Conrad, pretty dresses and all. And she’d packed everything. “Yes. I brought a nice dress.”
Bernice hugged her. “Good.”
Greer added, “I really need to pay Phillip back.”
Bernice waved a hand. “Don’t be silly. He gets complementary tickets.”
“For all of you?” Greer tipped her head, pursing her lips.
Bernice shook off her question. “Not for all of us. But the four of us kids have already paid for everything. So yours was just one measly complementary ticket.”
Looking at Dean as he worked with his sisters, she knew she’d go. She wanted to be with him. And nothing would stop her.
Except for Nana’s parasailing, which she agreed once was enough, the next day was a delicious repeat of the previous one. Walking, sunbathing, drinking margaritas, eating nachos, rushing down the waterslide with Dean, riding the raging waters. And all the kisses they’d sneaked in when no one was looking.
The only thing marring it was that Dean’s daughters had opted not to take a walk with them. It would have been nice to get them together. But then Greer had also enjoyed the time alone with him.
After the lovely day on the beach, she’d found Phillip to thank him for the dinner show ticket, to which he’d replied, just as Bernice had said, that they often received complementary tickets to encourage visitors.
Now she lounged in the tub, pampering herself with bath oil and bubbles and getting ready for the island dinner show.
And for whatever happened afterward.
She didn’t allow herself to feel guilty. She was on vacation. What happens in Mexico stays in Mexico. Right? But she didn’t answer her phone when Conrad’s name popped up. Hearing his voice would ruin the day. She didn’t want to be yelled at or castigated. Though she wondered if everything would be worse when she got home if she stopped taking his calls.
Pushing herself down into the water until it reached her chin, she whispered aloud, “I don’t care. I’ll deal with it all when this vacation is over.” She let the call go to voicemail. And ignored that too when she stepped out of the tub.
The spaghetti strap dress hugged her breasts and fell in gentle folds to her calves. Pairing it with a shawl warm enough for a boat ride, she surveyed herself in the mirror. And liked what she saw.
As she stepped off the elevator in the lobby below, Dean came to her immediately, taking her hand and drawing her into the group. “You look lovely.”
She smiled. “You do too.”
He looked down at himself. “I never thought long pants and a Hawaiian shirt could be considered lovely.”
“I stand by my compliment.” She wanted to kiss him in front of everyone. And the glint in his eye told her he wanted the same thing. But neither of them indulged. “Where are Lisa and Cynthia? They’re not coming?”
A grimace creased Dean’s mouth. “Our young adult contingent is going into Puerto Vallarta for the evening.” He chuckled, the grimace disappearing. “We’re just old fogies. They don’t want to be with us.”
She remembered now that none of the young cousins had raised their hands the evening Phillip asked for a head count. She stepped closer to brush her arm against Dean’s. “Funny, I don’t feel like an old fogy.”
He whispered, “You certainly don’t look like an old fogy.”
She basked in the warmth of his words.
When everyone had arrived, they climbed into two trolleys for the quick trip down to the taxi station, where Dean had ordered a bus to take them to the adventure center.
“I’m so excited.” Nana clapped her hands. “Phillip told me all about the show. It’ll be fantabulous.”
Excited voices filled the trolleys, everyone speculating on what they’d see.
“I’ve heard the food is excellent and the show is magnificent,” Honoria said, her wife Zendaya seated next to her.
Greer leaned close to Dean. “But what about Phillip and Rosa?”
“They’re staying behind to take care of the younger kids so all the parents can enjoy the show.”
“That’s so sweet of them.”
“Besides, they’ve seen the show many times.”
Once at the taxi stand, they boarded the bus, which soon dropped them off in front of a large bamboo gate. Following along the cobbled walkway past lighted tiki torches, they entered the check-in line, which, thankfully, wasn’t long. Soon, they had wristbands for the first boat to head to the island. Small souvenir shops lined the path to the boat dock, where it opened onto a patio with several tables and a bar, all surrounded by jungle foliage. A crowd milled about, waiting to board.
Before they could order a drink at the bar, a short whistle blew and over a loudspeaker came, “In two minutes, we’ll be boarding boat number one. Those of you with priority boarding, the blue wristband, are invited to come to the dock now.”
Greer held up her wristband. “I’m blue.”
Dean rested his against hers. “Me too.”
When he took her hand in his, leading her to the boarding line, her heart beat faster at the thought of what the night would hold.