Chapter Ten
Jackie
Jackie rolled over on her front, pulling one of the pillows to her and scrunching it up under her chin.
Her feet dangled over the side of the bed as she tried to beat insomnia with every sleeping position she knew, including lying sideways on the bed and facing the open balcony door.
Not even the first rays of the sun peeking over the horizon were enough to soothe her tangled emotions.
There was no use pretending she didn’t know why she’d been unable to sleep a wink.
Of all the hotels in Cancún, why did he have to choose this one? Why did it have to be right now, when she was here? If it had been last year, or even six months ago, she wouldn’t have been here. But no. He had to turn up right now.
Twelve doors down the corridor.
Twelve rooms.
Twelve balconies.
She knew exactly how far his suite was from her room, and it was eating her up.
Jackie pushed her face into the soft pillow.
She could lie to herself and pretend she wasn’t affected, that everything between them was in the past. But it seemed that her brain and heart couldn’t communicate and agree on the same course of action, because even though logically she knew it’d been ten years, he’d moved on and she’d hurt him in the worst way she could’ve, her traitorous heart recognized its dusty missing piece yesterday, longing to connect with it and become whole again.
Something that could never happen.
Her unblinking eyes stared at the thin, zigzag line across the ceiling.
She could do it, right? Spend the next two weeks avoiding him, busy herself with work and, under no circumstances, tell him why she left. There was no way she was diving back into all that, not after ten years of navigating the heartbreak.
Pleased with herself for opting for a solid plan of letting cowardice take the wheel, Jackie stumbled out of bed.
Growing up, she hated early mornings. She’d often grumble when she had to get up in the pitch-dark at dawn to help with ranch chores, but the older she got, the more she appreciated it.
The special kind of quiet before everyone else woke up.
When she was at the Brooke’s Plains, she’d saddle up a horse and go on a sunrise ride.
Away from home, she got into running and, sometimes, she cleared her head by immersing herself in a spa pool.
At Mexican Jewel, the indoor ones in the hotel’s lower ground floor were her favorite.
Not many guests frequented them, preferring to hang around the outdoor pools, and that suited Jackie.
She pulled out a black one-piece swimsuit from her dresser, smiling at the thought of some peace and quiet.
Stone walls glistened with droplets of water and swelled with soaked up melody of conversations they witnessed. The crystal-clear pool surface shimmered in the atmospheric lighting, showcasing the gorgeous spa area designed to look like the inside of a covered cenote.
For Jackie, cenotes were the absolute highlight in the Yucatán Peninsula. Natural sinkholes created by a collapse of limestone bedrock to expose stunning blue water.
She smiled at the fake stalactites edging down from the ceiling as she walked down the stone steps. Before she reached the bottom, her heels dug into the floor.
Someone was swimming in the pool.
In all the time Jackie had been here, she’d never seen anyone use the gorgeous pool for serious swimming.
Until now, it seemed.
Jackie narrowed her eyes at the head bobbing up and down as they swam. Even though she couldn’t see their face under the professional goggles or their hair under the navy swim cap, she knew right away who it was.
“Mitch,” she muttered under her breath.
Without thinking twice, she ducked behind the wide rugged column next to one of the spa pools.
Pressing her back to the stone, her bare skin chilled from the cold and the shock of the unexpected encounter, she gulped for air.
Seeing him wouldn’t help her clear her head and, most definitely, wouldn’t get him out of her mind.
He looks good.
Jackie closed her eyes and tipped her head against the column. How long would it take to wipe the image of his chest from her memories?
The sound of rippling water snapped her out of her thoughts.
Surely, he’d be leaving soon. She’d need to find a new morning ritual while he was here.
Maybe she could go for a dip in the sea.
Or jump in the deep end and continue swimming until the water swallowed her whole.
Perhaps that was the only way to save herself from any further embarrassment.
She peeked out from the side of the column.
He’d swapped breaststroke for freestyle.
There was not a single thing she’d forgotten when it came to their time together, but watching Mitch swim had always been addictive.
He moved so effortlessly, like his body was one with water.
Before they met, she’d never watched a swimming race—probably because of her fear of water back then.
After she’d seen his first one for the Texas Longhorns, she was hooked.
Every stroke was like kryptonite. She remembered how quickly the roughly twenty-five seconds passed as he swam the fifty-meter backstroke, his best distance.
Often, she thought that if she’d blinked twice, she’d have missed it.
Her airways constricted as she watched Mitch reach the end of the pool, waiting to see his flip turn, but it never came. He got to the end of the pool, touched the wall and, after a brief stop, pushed himself off the wall.
Jackie’s forehead creased in confusion. Mitch’s flip turns used to be one of his big strengths, especially in his trademark backstroke.
The names of each part of the flip pushed to the front of her mind, like no time had passed since he had explained them to her all those years ago.
Somersault, pushing off the wall in a streamline and finally butterfly kicks underwater before resurfacing and resuming backstroke …
He reached the other end of the pool.
Again, Jackie waited for the flip turn, but it never came. Remembering she was meant to stay out of sight, she returned to her hiding place.
“I know you’re there, Jackie. You can come out.” His voice, laced with amusement, echoed off the stone walls.
Jackie’s cheeks burned and she swallowed through a lump in her throat. She hadn’t realized he’d finished swimming.
Water splashed on the floor in a violent thrust.
Her heart rate picked up. She didn’t have to look to know he was getting out of the pool.
“Come on, no need to be shy.” His voice was closer than she expected, way too close for comfort. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
His hand found her, his wet fingers gently skimming the inside her forearm, and her heart dropped to her feet.
She jerked, stepping away. “You still swim.”
“Sure do. It’s the only time I can think with no distractions.” Mitch pulled the swim cap off his head, his wet hair curling. He combed his fingers through it and shook his head, drops of water flying everywhere. In his other hand, he clutched his sleek black goggles.
Her breath hitched as she took in his bare chest, arms …
Her gaze dipped lower down to fitted black jammers, through which she could easily make out the hard lines of his thigh muscles.
He’d always favored these over swimming trunks—something about cutting through water more efficiently than bare skin or baggy fabric; another thing filed away in her memories, apparently.
Mitch pulled down the material on his left leg, his eyes boring into her face. “What are you doing here?”
Jackie sniffed, her gaze trailing back up to his face. Goggle indents rimmed his eyes that somehow looked more blue than green in the golden glow from the LED lights scattered all over the wellness pool facility.
She blinked, struggling to string the words together. “Me? I work here.”
He grinned. “I know that. I mean, in the pool.” His gaze dipped to her swimsuit’s cleavage, black material peeking through her beige linen shirt dress. “You swim now, too?”
Jackie inhaled and pulled up the front of her dress. If she could, she’d pull it over her head to hide from him. As childish as it was. “I like to start my morning here.” She nodded to one of the spa pools. “It calms me down.”
A smile shadowed his lips. “You aren’t afraid of water anymore.”
“You know I’m not.”
Their eyes linked and the weight of their shared pasts crushed against Jackie’s chest.
No, she wasn’t going to linger on the memories. It was all done and dusted.
“I’m glad to hear,” he whispered, his eyes keeping hers captive.
Jackie worried her bottom lip between her teeth.
Awkwardly, she swung her hands in front of her, like she was warming up for a workout.
She didn’t know what to do with herself, how to react to his presence so close to her.
Like her worst nightmare and the best dream rolled into one, neither of which she’d ever shaken off.
She shrank back from his gaze, blinking at her clasped hands. Realizing Mitch wouldn’t walk away first, she opened her mouth on a sigh: “Right, well … Have a good day. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
Jackie turned to leave but stopped when he called her name. Cords pulled tight through her center; her pulse slowed its trek through her veins.
“Why did you leave?” Mitch’s voice was a hushed timbre, tight with emotion.
His question formed into a knife and sliced her heart in half. Slowly, Jackie whirled round to face him again. She tried to swallow but her mouth had dried up.
He’d asked her last night to tell him it wasn’t his fault; and it wasn’t.
It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her.
If she thought telling him that would bring him the comfort he was seeking, she’d have told him.
But there was nothing healing waiting for him in the truth.
He’d been left at the altar, by a woman he loved; fixating on her reason for leaving was probably easier than trying to process his actual, real heartbreak.
Ten years could dull even the deepest wound, couldn’t it?
She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Mitch. We both moved on. You should enjoy your vacation and forget all about me.”
Hurt flashed deep in his eyes. “Do you really think I could?”
They looked at each other, the eye contact both familiar and foreign.
The water filters in the pools dampened the sound of Jackie’s heart.
Memories swam in her mind, snapshots of the time they’d spent together.
If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear their laughter and see Mitch’s younger face right in front of hers.
If she focused hard enough, she could almost taste his lips on hers.
If she let herself go, her legs would buckle underneath her as she remembered how it felt when …
That jolted her back to the present. She backed away further, stopping only when she hit the stone wall. She crossed her arms over her chest, deluding herself she could put some physical barrier between Mitch and her malfunctioning heart.
“Because it’s impossible to forget you, Jackie. I don’t think anyone who’s ever met you would be able to do it.” His lips pressed into a thin line, the corners lifting in an unsuccessful attempt at a smile. “Besides, even if I could forget you, I’d never want to.”
Her gaze focused instead on her toes, peeking out from her flip-flops. “It might’ve been less painful.”
“Sure. But it’d mean not remembering the happiest years of my life. That isn’t really a price I’d ever be willing to pay.”
She wanted him to come closer, to touch her, to lift her chin and force her to drown in the mesmerizing depths of his emerald eyes.
And yet, she couldn’t let him anywhere near her.
All her wants and thoughts jumbled together in an incoherent mess. Contrary as fuck.
“I’ll tell you what. Have dinner with me tonight.”
Her head snapped up in time to catch him awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
“Dinner. With you,” she repeated, her brows riding up higher with every syllable. “Why?”
Mitch nodded, a resolute smile on his lips.
He shrugged. “You told me you’re no longer the girl I knew in Texas.
I told you I wanted to meet the woman you became.
I meant it, Jackie. I want to hear what you’ve been up to for the past ten years.
That’s it, no hidden motives. Just genuinely curious how you’ve been. ”
She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but he cut her off before she had a chance to utter a single word.
“Oh, come on. I don’t bite. For old times’ sake.”
She glared at him.
He smirked, innocently enough, but his body language hadn’t changed much in the past ten years. The no-biting comment was also a lie, if she remembered correctly. A shiver kissed the top of her spine at the memory of his teeth scraping her skin …
Before her brain could rein in her heart, she blurted: “Fine. But I can’t today, I have work to do. Tomorrow?”
Mitch grinned, dipping his chin. “Sounds good.”