8. shrimp tacos
shrimp tacos
OTHELLO
Once we pull away from the airport, the city slips behind us like a montage. We enter a new world of lush greenery and endless shades of blue from the Pacific.
Damn. I’m really in paradise.
It’s beautiful here. Like, beyond beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Marley looks as if she’s in a trance, her eyes spellbound by the island. The fact that this woman is in a car with me right now is blowing my mind. I’ve thought about seeing her again so many times, and now she’s right here.
The comfortable silence we seem to share is effortless. There were plenty of moments like this on the flight. Just a natural, pleasant stillness between us. And the laughter… I hadn’t laughed like that with someone in a long time.
Her vibe and the energy we’ve shared the past several hours already feels like something intimate has formed between us. We’ve shared a meal together, watched a movie, and shared our history. And yet, it isn’t enough for me. I’ve become addicted to her company. Craving more of her time.
We’re about thirty minutes into the drive when I gently tap Marley’s leg to wake her up. “You hungry?” I ask, my stomach answering for her with a sharp growl. “We’ve got another hour to go, but I’m starving.”
The airline’s meager offering of cookies, macadamia nuts, and that bland chicken and veggie lunch hadn’t come close to cutting it.
“Where would we even stop?” Marley wonders, glancing around at the scenery.
Lush banana trees stretch alongside us, and just beyond them, the ocean glimmers as the sun sinks into its depths, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The view feels like something out of a dream or a movie. A perfect, tranquil paradise.
The salt air drifts through the car, blending with Marley’s fragrance, which smells like a mixture of something rich and tropical, like vanilla, sweet bananas, and flowers.
The warm breeze tousles her hair, strands of her locs and loose curls dancing across her face. She’s completely captivated by the world around her. And I’m completely captivated by her.
She nods toward a tiki-style bar nestled in the distance. “Bet they’ve got some really good drinks.”
My stomach growls. And hopefully, some good food.
We’re both right.
The flavors are unforgettable. I order every appetizer and entrée our stomachs can hold.
Festive cocktails, fruity, vibrant, and dangerously smooth, snake through my veins, each sip warming me from the inside out, giving me liquid courage.
The booze works its magic, and before I can second-guess, I hold out a shrimp taco to Marley.
“Try this.”
She pauses, and I notice her cheeks flush as she quickly scans the restaurant to see if anyone is watching us. Then, slowly, she leans forward, her lips parting as she bites into the taco.
I catch a stray drip with my hand beneath, but it’s her reaction that wrecks me. Marley’s eyes flutter closed, and a soft, satisfied moan escapes her as the flavors hit.
My pulse spikes, my mind swimming in a pool of inappropriate thoughts.
Marley savors the bite with a pleasure that makes my dick jump against my thigh. I drag my eyes away, forcing down the ache that’s building inside my chest, but it’s a losing game.
I clear my throat. “So…which one’s your favorite?”
On top of the dip sampler, quesabirria, jalapeno fries, and guacamole, we’ve tried the Mahi-Mahi, Kālua pork, pineapple chicken, and now the shrimp tacos.
Marley nods, her mouth chewing slowly, and her eyes pinched closed in pure ecstasy. Seeing her taken aback by a fuckin’ taco puts me in a choke-hold. I want to be the one to make her feel like that.
There is a bit of sauce at the corner of her mouth, and she swipes it away with her thumb. The way she puts it in her mouth and licks the juice from it has me damn near about to lose my shit.
“Definitely the shrimp,” she answers, her voice soft as she covers her mouth mid-bite.
I smirk, bringing the same taco to my lips.
“Let’s see what all the fuss is about.”
My expression bears the same as hers after a massive bite.
She’s right. This shit is good.
But then I wonder how good she tastes.
Down, boy. Tone it down.
I grunt and straighten myself under the table. “I need to know,” I pause to swallow my food. “Are you still on that dating app?”
“What? Hooked? Oh no. I couldn’t take it seriously.”
“The dates you went on or the app itself?”
“Both.”
“Same. I mean, think about it. Online dating is literally online shopping for adults.”
She laughs out loud, covering her pretty mouth with her hands. “I’ve always thought of it that way. And the guys I was matching with just seem like a bunch of men ready for situationships.”
I shoot her a look of amused confusion. “Situationships? What the hell is that?”
“A thing where two people explore an unspoken arrangement physically and romantically. I mean, some people love it, but for someone like me, I can’t deal with inconsistency, the lack of effort, and pointless conversations that lead to nowhere.
It’s just a full-out mess that eventually leads to resentment. ”
“Okay,” I snicker, blown away by her response. “I think I’ve been in a few of those before.”
“We featured an article about it in my magazine once. Ten Signs You’re in a Situationship. You’d think my love life would be top-notch with all the advice we give, but no. I still can’t seem to get it right.”
“I’ve never called them situationships, but that’s a good way of putting it.”
“Because that’s literally what they are. I couldn’t take anyone on that app seriously, though.”
“No one to match what you were looking for?”
“Not one.” Marley tilts her head up thoughtfully. “In fact, I don’t even know why I was on there. Boredom, maybe. Boredom can put you in some crazy situations.”
“Situationships,” I correct.
“Right,” Marley giggles. “Exactly that!”
“So, tell me what you have on this itinerary you made.”
“Why do I feel like you’re mocking me?”
“I’m not. I just want to know what you’re doing while we’re on this beautiful island.”
She gives me a dangerous side-eye, and I can’t help noticing how cute she looks when she’s that way. Guarded, coy, and reserved.
“Well,” she begins, wiping her hands on a napkin. “I have a few Pilates classes scheduled. A yoga at sunrise—”
“Hold on. Wait. At sunrise? Meaning you’re not sleeping in but getting up before the crack of dawn on vacation?”
She cocks her head to the side, attitude written all over her face. “That’s exactly what that means.”
I hold my hands up in defense. “My bad. Please continue.”
Marley clears her throat. “There’s a chocolate farm tour scheduled. And I believe I have a stroll on the Kapalua Coastal Trail booked for Thursday. And that’s only because the dolphin tours are sold out. Everything else is mostly beach or poolside days with a book.”
“Well, that’s not what I was expecting you to say. I thought you were doing cliff diving and jet skis.”
“Me? The Persian Cat?”
My shoulders shake as I laugh.
“Do I look like a cliff diving and jet skis type of girl?” she quips.
I take her in, this beautiful, successful, career-driven woman.
I wonder if she doesn’t know how to be anything but reserved and responsible. She has probably spent most of her life stitching herself together with structure and discipline.
“No, you do not look like the kind of girl.”
“I can barely keep it together on a plane. The last thing I’ll be doing is jumping from a cliff,” she laughs. “But I don’t live in a bubble. I know how to have fun.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“And I definitely don’t think vacations always mean wild and adventurous.”
“You’re right. They don’t. I mean, I wouldn’t exactly call this a vacation for me, anyway.”
Her brows rise as she looks at me over the rim of her third, fourth margarita?
We’ve been testing everything on this menu.
And I almost want to tell her to take it easy, but I’m sure she knows how many drinks she can handle.
Instead, I grab my glass of water I’d ordered earlier.
It’s still ice cold and sweating with perspiration.
“Why wouldn’t a week in paradise be a vacation for you?” she asks.
“Cause I’m going to be around a bunch of people I don’t know. The ones I do know I don’t particularly like right now. I’ll be forcing myself to have a good time, and pretending jokes are funny, and conversations are interesting just to make it through the week.”
“I don’t think it will be so bad.”
“Being in the wedding of two people that betrayed you?” I ask her.
She weighs my question and then nods. “Okay, yeah, I guess that will be a huge hurdle to cross.” And we both laugh. “But you’ve already proven you’re the bigger person by showing up.”
“And that’s not on my own accord,” I remind her.
“Maybe, so. But you didn’t have to do it. Not unless something else is pulling you here.”
I glance at her, wondering what she means.
“The bride,” Marley answers. “Are you over her?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m over her,” I say.
Marley gives a tight-lipped grin, looking as if she wants to press the issue but is holding back.
Her head nods slowly, and I can tell she’s gone down an inebriated rabbit hole the way her eyelids lower and her gaze lingers.
Her mind seems to be elsewhere, and then realization hits her, straightening her like an iron rod. She clears her throat and looks away.
“Well, we should hurry to the resort,” she admits. “I wanted to visit the beach before it gets too dark.”
“Of course. Your vacation agenda.”
“Yes, that. I appreciate you opening up to me. You’ve been a perfect gentleman, and this was the perfect date. So, thank you.”
My brow lifts in amusement. “You think this was our date?”
She blinks. “Is it not?”
I tilt my head, feigning offense. “Absolutely not. We’re just two hungry people who stopped to get something to eat.”
I pick up my glass, pausing before I drink.
“A date with me is an experience, Marley. This?” I gesture to the mess of half-eaten plates and empty glass cups that the waitress has failed to clean up. “This is just an appetizer before the main course.”