by Sue Seabury
YOLO
by
Sue Seabury
Copyright 2018
All rights reserved.
Summary
YOLO stands for You Only Live Once. Having spent half her life taking care of a husband, child, and mother, forty-something Katherine Dixon is determined the next half will be about herself. She’s looking forward to some serious R&R at the dreamiest resort in Puerto Rico.
One R conspicuously absent from her list is Romance. Twenty years of caring for a selfish ex was more than enough. She’s taking a break from men, possibly a permanent one. Kat isn't prepared for the resort owner to be so dreamy, or so naked. Maybe some experiences are worth trying twice.
For Hugo Diaz, YOLO means You Only Love Once, and once was more than enough. All he wants is for The Retreat to be a success. With his backer threatening to pull the loan, Hugo doesn’t need any distractions, particularly of the romantic stripe. Of all the resorts in Puerto Rico, why did Kat have to walk into his?
1
A naked giant was manning the front desk.
He had a pleasant face. His pirate’s curls were oddly appealing as well.
Still, most rapist-murderers had to have the charming-smile thing down. How else did they entice their victims?
Also, without a shirt, there was nowhere to hide his bulging muscles.
Of all the worst-case scenarios Kat had conjured up after the discussion-turned-shouting-match with her ex-husband about going it alone on this trip, dashing, stark-naked buccaneers hadn’t figured in any of them. She wasn’t expecting her new mantra ofYou Only Live Once to be tested quite so soon.
She craned her neck.
The necessary was blocked by the desk.
She rose up on the toes of her brand-new Tevas.
Only half-naked.
A stylish piece of blue and black fabric was wrapped around his waist. Some sort of sarong, she imagined.
She was still deciding if being murdered was preferable to admitting Darren was right when the man asked, “Are you all right?”
Kat started to say, “I’m not sure” but something wasn’t quite right with her tongue. Also, the room started to wobble. She’d noticed a high-backed wicker chair when she first entered the hotel. Hoping for good aim, she reached for it. The last thing she thought of before blanking out was relief at having brushed her teeth at the airport. If she needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, she’d like to be considerate of the giver.
*
When she opened her eyes, she was in the chair. It was as comfortable as it looked. The view from the reception area could not have been more different from her desk at the Silvertime Senior Center. Red and orange flowering vines framed a wedge of pristine turquoise sea. The room had no walls; it didn’t need them. According to the online brochure, the average year-round temperature was eighty-five degrees.
Kat felt a little like she was in an allergy medicine commercial; everything was a little blurry. And her eyes had to be playing tricks. Now there weretwo bare-chested men in front of her. She couldn’t recall any pictures of the staff in the online brochure. Kat shut her eyes again.
“Mrs. Dixon, are you all right?”
“Miss.” Kat didn’t like the sound of “Miz.” The official name-change form was filled out, but currently residing in a pile of papers in her kitchenette. She still wasn’t ready to have a different last name from her only child.
“Sorry. Miss Dixon.” Warm hands picked up her feet and rotated her ankles one at a time, then flexed her knees back and forth. “Does any of this hurt?”
She risked a peek with one eye. When the man from reception took her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, the fuzziness peeled away from his face. She opened the other eye. She wasn’t seeing double. The two faces were completely different: the big, wild-haired man had kind brown eyes with the beautiful long lashes only boys seemed to get. The new one had sun-kissed hair shaved close, and stunning eyes the color of the Caribbean sea. His two-day stubble added the necessary touch of bad-boy. If this was a dream, no one need wake her.
“I’m fine,” she said. “What perfect positioning you have for your furniture. Your website didn’t lie when it said ‘personalized service where our professional staff caters to your every need and desire.’”
The men’s faces changed from concern to amusement.
“Come on, I can’t be the first person to faint at such a view.” Kat’s wave included the men along with the other natural beauties.
The short-haired one laughed. He stood and patted her shoulder. The massive man was still holding her hand. It felt good, safe. Not the type of hand that would steal her credit card, rape her, or sell her to Bolivia.
“Hey, you want a drink?” the blue-eyed man asked. “A little rum to steady the nerves, yeah? I’m Ramsey, by the way.”
The mention of rum reminded Kat of the glass she’d broken when she tried to be helpful by watering a wilting potted plant near the front desk. When she replaced the bird-shaped watering can, she’d accidentally knocked over a glass sitting on the floor. To judge by the fumes, it was straight rum. She’d done her best to corral the shards of glass with a tissue, but was still searching for a trashcan when the naked giant showed up.
What luck the woman from the shuttle sauntered in at that moment.
“Ramseyrams me, get it?” A cackle followed that gem. “How ’bout some service over here, Huge-o Hugo?”
The two men exchanged glances.
“I’ll be right with you,” the big man said. Then he turned back to Kat and asked, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
How to bring up the broken tumbler without turning it into An Issue? What if one of them was drinking on the job and the other didn’t know? She didn’t want to get anyone in trouble, or get on someone’s bad side the first day of her vacation.
“You can go help her.” Kat patted the curved armrests. “I’m here for some R and R which I’m happy to start right here.”
With a parting look of concern, Hugo went behind the desk and shuffled some papers.
“Hey, Adonis.” The woman was watching Ramsey with a distinctly predatory look. “Ya miss me?”
During the shuttle ride, the woman had told Kat her name was “Queenie.” Seemed apt.
Ramsey nodded at Queenie then turned back to Kat. “I’ll go get you that drink.”
His demeanor said he was going to fix himself one at the same time.
“I’ll handle it,” the big man — Hugo? — said sternly.
Ramsey submitted with a brief nod. Kat could guess whose rum glass it had been behind the watering can.
“You can take care of my luggage instead,” Queenie said.
“Sure, sure.”
Poor Ramsey. Queenie’s luggage had filled not only the trunk, but the whole third row of the minivan. Kat’s one suitcase had sat on the front passenger seat, probably a defensive move by the driver. But Queenie was a sizable woman and the middle row wasn’t far enough away to save him from pinches with those dagger-like nails.
When Ramsey rose to collect her vast assortment of bags, Queenie put her talons to use tracing his tattoos.
Kat shut her eyes. The less she had to watch of the cougar digging her claws into the hot kid, the better.
She wasn’t here for any of that. Eighty-seven days post-divorce was much too soon. Anyway, these guys were too young. The big one looked about thirty, thirty-five, tops.
He handed a pen to Queenie, who took the opportunity to shamelessly fondle his biceps. These poor men needed aLook, Don’t Touch sign.
Kat laughed, then stifled it.
“Everything okay?” Hugo’s eyebrows creased.
She couldn’t think of a single appropriate
thing to say, so she gave two thumbs-up instead.
“I’ll bring you something to drink just as soon as I’m done here.”
“No rush.”
When Ramsey escorted Queenie away, Hugo stepped out from behind the desk. “So, water, juice, or something stronger?”
The man looked so perfectly at ease in his sarong. Kat tried to picture Bank Manager Darren in a skirt, and failed.
It now registered with her that Hugo’s feet were bare, too.
She needed to fess up about the broken glass, but what if she was wrong and he was the drinker? She chickened out.
“Um, sorry. What are my choices again?” He was so tall, she had to tilt her head back to see his face.
He knelt. So much bare skin. All it would take was one stray shard . . .
Her lips were dry; she licked them. “Oh, my. Service on bended knee. I might get spoiled.”
“It is my goal and also my pleasure to make your experience here as perfect as possible, especially since you read my website so closely.” His gaze rested on her, unwavering.
Kat forgot all about glass shards and melted right into those chocolatey eyes. “You’re doing a great job so far.”
Her feet flexed automatically.
He looked down at them. “Are you sure you didn’t hurt yourself?”
She held her breath, half-hoping to get a second inspection of ankles and knees but his strong hands stayed put on his broad thighs.
”No, but maybe I’ll break something so I can extend my stay.” She didnot just say that. Her hand went to her mouth.
He stood, all traces of friendliness gone.
“Joking,” Kat said with a nervous giggle that sounded like glass breaking, at least to her.
His expression relaxed only to neutral professional. “So, water?”
“That’d be great, thank you,” Kat squeaked. She really needed more than water. She cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to be a pest, but maybe a snack too?” She hadn’t eaten before the flight. Too worried about throwing up.
“Certainly. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you.”
One eyebrow went up. “To the kitchen?”
Kat twisted her fingers together. Everything was conspiring to keep her near that dratted broken glass. Her albatross. “Well, to the dining room? I don’t want to make extra work for you.”
Hugo’s bountiful curls bounced as he shook his head. “No trouble. Stay here and rest. Anyway, I want to send someone with you to your bungalow to make sure you don’t get hurt on the way.”
If he only knew the peril his bare feet were in.
Kat slumped in the chair, a cross between a guilty child and an infirm old lady. “Got it.”
*
She was still debating sneaking away under the pretense of a bathroom visit when Hugo returned with a tray that held a glass of water, some unusual chips, and orange-colored sauce in a bowl.
“Thank you,” Kat said. “What is this?”
“Plantain chips and mango salsa. Both made in-house.”
She didn’t usually go for greasy things like chips, too fattening and they didn’t satisfy. But the homemade salsa looked good. If only he’d brought a spoon.
“Is something the matter? Plantains are similar to bananas but less sweet, if you are wondering.”
“Oh, no, not that. Just, fried . . . Never mind.” Now wasn’t the time to be picky. She chose a broken chip and dipped it in the salsa. Flavors exploded in her mouth. The salty-crisp of the chip was the perfect foil for the sweet-spicy salsa. She almost swooned again, this time with ecstasy. “Mmm.”
“Let me know if you have any other preferences I should be aware of.”
His nod was polite but somewhat cold. No surprise. First her silly joke about breaking things to get a free stay and then insulting his cooking. She wished she could take them back. Her best friend Josie was always telling her not to care so much about what other people thought, but she couldn’t help it. It couldn’t be wrong to care about other people’s feelings.
Josie was supposed to have come on this adventure, but an ear infection had her grounded back in New Jersey for the time being. She’d promised to follow in a few days if she got the all-clear, but her gushing over Dr. Sheggertz had Kat worried she’d make excuses to stick around Princeton for extra doctor’s appointments and give Puerto Rico a miss. But Kat’s ticket was non-refundable. And here she’d thought taking the shuttle to Newark would be the riskiest step in her journey.
You only live once, Kat thought.Each person must follow her own path.
A delicious aroma of mango and spices wafted up.
And mine is here, now, eating these heavenly chips and salsa.
Kat finished chewing, then opened her mouth to say something complimentary, but Hugo had already turned away.
She ate and sipped penitently. She would have made more noises of approval, except that was rude and he seemed busy at the desk.
The ice water was just right after the spicy salsa and salty chips. She drained the glass, then rattled the cubes to get his attention. “That was so good. Thank you. Where can I put this?”
“Just set it on the table next to you.” Hugo brought over some papers on a tray.
“Oh, for goodness sake.” Kat laughed. “I can stand.”
“No need. Now, if you’ll just sign here, here, and here.”
She picked up the pen and signed without reading the fine print. This she did purely in defiance of Darren who always read every last word.
Hugo picked up a sheet at the bottom she hadn’t even glanced at. “It says here on your questionnaire that your vacation goals include many sports. Snorkeling, surfing, parasailing, hiking the rainforest —”
Kat held up a hand. The list summed up her and Josie’s thirty-plus year friendship: Josie signing them up for wild exploits, and Kat agreeing because together they were the dynamic duo.
But without Josie there to egg her on, Kat wasn’t feeling so adventurous. “My friend filled that out.”
“Oh, then let me get you a fresh form for yourself.”
“Oh, no, please—”
Hugo strode into the office and was back in no time. “Here we are.”
Kat accepted the piece of paper like the dead mice Mrs. Robinson, her son’s cat, sometimes left as a ‘prize’ on the doormat. “Thank you.”
She studied the page. Just coming here had been her goal. Her vacation experience up until today had consisted of a little efficiency apartment rental in Ocean Grove the week of the Fourth of July. Darren never liked to miss more than four consecutive days of work, and he didn’t want to go too far in case of an office emergency. In twenty years, there had never been any such emergency.
The other shirtless man returned, doing little dance steps on his bare feet. All the unprotected flesh. She really needed to tell them about the glass.
“Does surviving the plane ride count as a goal?” Her laugh came out like a balloon leaking air.
Hugo’s soft brown eyes crinkled. “Why don’t you take it to your room and think about it?”
Finally, a sanctioned escape. Wasting no time, she folded up the worksheet while Hugo summoned Ramsey to act as what she could only presume was her warden. Kat protested once again that she didn’t need an escort, but Hugo insisted. She submitted. Anything to get away from the scene of the crime.
Ramsey whistled a cheery tune as he led her out of reception onto a smooth, broad stone path to another room without walls.
“Dining room.” He gave a jokey rub to his rippling abs.
Trading one half-naked, intense man asking about her goals for another soaked in sex wasn’t much of an improvement for her nerves. Kat concentrated on the artistically-woven wicker chairs surrounding tables with intricate mosaic-tiled tops. Each one was different, yet complimentary. A lovely teak wood bar stood at one end, and flowers everywhere: on the tables, and twining around the wrought iron columns that held up the roof.
She pau
sed for a moment to take in the view of the sea again and caught an excellent back view of Ramsey. His board shorts showcased his lower half perfectly, but also reminded her of her son who had recently developed a passion for surfing.
“You doin’ okay, Miss Kat?” Ramsey gave her a naughty wink.
It made her feel an ounce of pity for the Queenie woman. She had told Kat during the shuttle ride she had no children. Lucky for Kat she had the internal compass of a son almost this man’s age to remind her how ludicrous it would be to fall for his flirty act.
“I’m fine, I swear. I just didn’t get much sleep the last few days.”
“Oh no? You a party animal, I see it. You a wild Kat!” He wrapped his arm through hers, and raked imaginary claws through the air.
Kat laughed. “How’d you guess? Was it my sensible sandals or my wrinkle-resistant travel dress that gave me away?”
“It’s the gleam in your eye that done it. I know what you here for.” His eyebrows twitched.
Alarmed at the implied “goal” in that carnal glance, Kat tried to pull away but Ramsey held on tight. He turned left this time and guided her down another smooth stone path toward the grass huts she’d seen on the website. They were even more charming in person.
“Rest,” she said. “That’s why I came. To get away from the daily grind.” And the silent apartment.
Ramsey waved a hand casually. “We can rest when we dead. Right now, you here in this beautiful place, you need to live it up.”
He held out a presenter’s hand, as if he were personally responsible for the natural beauty surrounding them.
It did seem a waste to sleep away her vacation.
“I’m here for relaxation, too,” Kat said.
Ramsey gave her another eyebrow waggle.
She had to tell someone about the glass or she’d never have peace of mind.
“Oh,” she said, as if she just remembered it. “I know one thing that’ll help me relax.” She looked quickly away when his nose twitched. ”Earlier, I accidentally knocked over the watering can at reception. There was a glass behind it. I’m very sorry. I know I should have said something sooner, but then Queenie showed up, and all the paperwork . . .” She trailed off. Signing a bill could hardly be considered an overwhelming experience.
