by Jo Leigh
Maybe he could arrange things so the masseuse would come to the bungalow. Oh, man, the thought of just rolling from the table to the bed was the thing dreams were made of.
No, wait. Him being a limp noodle when he was in bed with Meg wasn’t quite what he’d pictured.
The masseuse hit a particularly sore spot at the lower end of his back and he grunted. She eased up. “No, it’s okay,” he said.
The pressure came back, and along with it came the ache. Why did some pain feel so good? Maybe because of the knowledge that it was healing pain?
Ah, who the hell cared.
This was exactly what he needed. Not just the island, but the woman. Meg, not the masseuse. She was something else. He wished she could see how the job was eating away at her. It was incredibly obvious. In an odd twist of fate, it was watching Meg’s struggle with her image of herself that had helped him see himself for the first time in years.
Meg felt she owed it to her father, but dammit, from what she’d told him, her father wouldn’t have wanted that from her. Not everything. He’d been a good man. Surely he’d want his child to have some fun, to fall in love, to get married. But that wasn’t going to happen as long as she was wed to the people on that mountain.
Alex would find a way to talk about it, so that it wouldn’t threaten her. No one else was stepping up to the plate. He knew Meg had friends, but she rarely had time to see them. She’d turned to him when she needed to vent, and he’d paid attention.
A major part of setting up this trip had been to get her alone, so she couldn’t sign off from the computer when things got too uncomfortable. He wasn’t going to let it go, not when she needed so badly to see what she had given up, continued to give up, in the name of misguided loyalty. If he could cast off his shackles, so could she.
But that was for later. The only talk they were going to have, once they got to the bungalow, was going to be said in between gasps and orgasms.
He focused on the music, on those sultry sounds that were such a part of his world. He felt the warm oil on the warm hands as they kneaded his flesh. Mostly, he thought about what a lucky son of a bitch he was, and that he wanted to remember everything. He’d need these memories when he was back in D.C. He had a lot of people to face, a lot of decisions to make. It would make things easier if he could slip into thoughts of Meg.
“Sir?”
He heard the whisper, and grunted to let her know he was awake.
“Why don’t we take a small break. The sunset is so beautiful, I’d hate for you and your lady to miss it.”
“A break?”
“Don’t worry,” she said, in her lilting Jamaican accent. “I’m going to help you sit up, and while you’re sipping your delicious drink, I’m going to work on your feet.”
“My feet?”
She leaned down a little lower. “You’re going to love it.”
He believed her.
Her arm, quite strong, reached beneath his shoulder until he could gather the sheet and sit up. He turned his head to find Meg, already seated, a big wedge thing behind her back.
His wedge came as soon as he was settled, and it was remarkably comfortable. Then the two women brought low stools and sat down in front of them, out of his sight.
Meg grinned at him as if they’d won the lottery, and she held up her drink, umbrella and all. A slight lean to the left and he had his own drink. He raised it to her.
A few sips later, his right foot was caressed, and there was warming oil and the most incredible touch. He sighed, looking out at the fire-bright sky. Purple, pink, orange, all mixed together with exquisite care. Without even looking, he reached out his free hand, and there it was: Meg’s hand, reaching right back.
9
MEG FOLLOWED THE HOST out to the restaurant patio, consumed with the feeling of Alex’s hand on the small of her back.
It was full-on night now, and a gorgeous one at that, but the patio was illuminated with torches, lots of them, which made everything shimmer. They were seated with an unobstructed view of the beach. Their table was far enough from the others that they could talk easily. Music wafted over the deck—nothing too intrusive, kind of soft and tropical.
Meg picked up the menu. It was huge, and the first three pages were all drinks. Fabulous-sounding drinks made with fruit and rum, and she wanted to try them all. But since she’d already had two, she figured she’d better cool her jets. It was still fun to read the descriptions. “Hey, Alex, here’s one you should try. Sweet Death Becomes Her.”
“Her?”
“I don’t think it actually turns you into a girl.”
“Phew. And it would be…?”
“Malibu rum, silver rum, 151 rum, spiced rum and pineapple juice.”
“You know you can have your way with me without making me too drunk to protest.”
“You’re easy. I get it.”
He laughed. “I’m going to stick with the Magnum. Don’t want to mix my juices. What about you?”
“Iced tea. The regular kind, not Long Island.”
“Chicken.”
“I’d like to stay awake until we’re back at the bungalow.”
“Good thinking.” He went back to the menu, but she could see his eyes were crinkled from his smile.
She turned to the food portion, but she had the same problem there as with the drinks. It all sounded incredible, and although it felt as if she could eat all of page six, she knew she really couldn’t. The simplest way around this was to order the special fish of the day, whatever it was.
When she looked up again, the waiter, dressed in the blue-and-white tropical shirt that all the staff wore, was standing at the ready.
“Will there be cocktails to begin?”
Meg was just about to order when the hostess led a couple to the table next to theirs. Not just any couple—Walter and Tina.
Meg thought of diving underneath the table, but there was no time, and besides, they’d notice. Instead, when Tina said, “Hi!” with such obvious pleasure, Meg smiled. It wasn’t the end of the world, or even the end of the evening. She and Walter were probably very sweet people.
“Well, isn’t this a happy coincidence,” Tina said, as they approached the table.
“Yes, it is,” Meg replied, not daring to look at Alex. Of course she wanted their dinner to be private, but there was no way she was going to be rude. They’d just have to keep their voices down, that’s all.
The hostess smiled brightly, holding the large menus against her blue floral shirt. “You know each other? How nice. Would you like to sit together?”
Now Meg shot a panicked glance at Alex. His eyes were wide, blinking, and she knew he was searching frantically for a reason to say no, just as she was. But a brilliant response wasn’t forthcoming, not before Tina said, “That’s a wonderful idea, if we’re not intruding.”
“No, of course not,” Meg said. She pointed to the two free chairs. “There’s plenty of room.”
She felt Alex kick her under the table, but she didn’t even wince. The truth was, she’d heard the desperation in Tina’s voice, and she couldn’t ignore it.
It took a few minutes for them to get settled, with Brian, their waiter, hovering. Walter ordered drinks for himself and Tina. Alex asked for a .357 Magnum, and even though Meg really wanted a stronger drink, she went for the iced tea.
They all needed to read the menus, and that took a few minutes. She kept glancing over at Alex, who had a smile pasted on his face that barely disguised the annoyance in his eyes. Her tummy tightened with worry. Who would Alex be in a situation like this?
Brian came back with their cocktails, and then everyone ordered. Walter eschewed the local fare for a steak, which Meg didn’t understand. When in Rome…She ordered the catch of the day, and Alex chose some shrimp concoction. Tina got into the spirit and decided on jerk chicken.
After the waiter left, Meg lifted her drink and held it up, catching Alex’s gaze. “To adventures,” she said.
For the
first time since Walter and Tina had joined them, his smile reached his eyes. “To adventures,” he echoed.
They toasted, and their company joined in. After a long sip, Meg turned to Tina, figuring she was the one who needed to talk. “How did you two end up here?” she asked.
“Our children surprised us for our anniversary. Twenty-five years.” Tina shook her head. “It seems impossible, but there you have it.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. It’s our first vacation in…” She glanced at Walter, who looked as if he’d rather be anywhere other than Escapades. “I don’t remember. A long time. Walter owns a printing plant and business has been booming. We don’t seem to have much time off.”
“We had no business leaving now, either. Martin’s making a complete mess out of the history text, and who’s going to pay for that, eh? It’s not coming out of his paycheck.”
“That was very nice of your kids,” Meg said, not sure it was all that polite to ignore Walter’s comments, but more concerned with Tina than him.
“It was.” Tina reached over to meet Walter’s hand on the table, but he didn’t notice. She drew back, a slight blush pinking her cheek. “They’re good kids. Danny’s a pharmacist. He’s engaged to a wonderful girl. And Elizabeth is studying English literature at Northwestern.” She brightened a bit after taking a sip of her drink. “What about you two?”
Alex chuckled. “Yeah, what about us two?”
“We’ve been online friends for a long time. This is our first real date,” Meg explained.
“My goodness,” Tina said. “Walter, did you hear that?”
Walter looked up. “Never met before, huh?”
“Nope,” Alex said. “First time.”
Walter pulled his cell out of his pocket and put it on the table, right next to his salad fork.
“That seems very brave,” Tina said. “I’ll admit, I don’t know much about online dating, but I hear it’s very popular.”
“It’s working out pretty well.” Meg waggled her brows at Alex. “Of course, this is just day one. We’ll see how we feel after four more days.”
Alex coughed, and then she felt his foot touch hers again. He lifted his drink in such a way that only she could see his lips. He mouthed, “This sucks.”
She laughed, then coughed to cover it up. Not trusting herself to even look at him, she turned back to Tina. “Where are you from?”
“Iowa. Walter’s plant is the largest in the state. He does the printing for two big magazines, but mostly, he prints textbooks.”
“Do you work at the plant?”
Tina shook her head. “No, I was a stay-at-home mom. Which was wonderful when I had children to stay home for.” She looked at Walter again. His gaze was on his phone, though, and Meg wondered if he knew how unhappy his wife was.
“So now it’s time to find something new,” Meg said. “What do you love to do?”
Tina laughed. “Love to do? Good grief. Well, I read a lot. It’s about the only thing I’m good at. I tried knitting and I’d rather stick the needles in my eyes. I’ve managed to kill every plant I’ve ever owned. So it’s back to books.”
“Books are wonderful. You know, Alex is a writer. He’s a columnist for the Washington Post.”
Finally, Walter perked up. “You write for the Post? What’s your name?”
Meg grinned. “Alex Rosten.”
Walter nodded and his lips actually curved a bit. “I’ve seen you on that morning news show on CNN.”
Alex was spared a humble response when the food arrived, but the ice had been broken. For a little while, they all concentrated on their meals, but when Tina did try to include Walter, he either grumbled or ignored her completely. It wasn’t fun sitting there, and Meg felt Tina’s embarrassment acutely. The worst of it was when the cell phone rang, and Walter walked away without a word or a backward glance.
The whole encounter reminded her a little too much of what it had been like when she was growing up. It didn’t matter what her family was doing—eating dinner, celebrating a birthday, if the phone rang, her father tuned them out as if they’d been a mildly interesting television show. Meg remembered a few times when her mother had objected, but it had been useless. The work came first and last.
With some guilt, she thought about the times she’d left her friends in the lurch. No wonder her invitations had become so scarce. She’d fallen into the patterns she was raised with, and hadn’t done a thing to find the kind of balance that could have made her family life one filled more with joy than tension.
The food was spectacular, and Meg focused on that instead of thoughts of Tina and Walter, which meant she ate far too much. She didn’t even have room for dessert. She liked Tina, and wished things could be different for her. Maybe the island would work its magic on Walter. Stranger things had happened.
At last Tina folded her napkin on her plate, and touched Meg’s hand. “Thank you for letting us intrude. It was a very nice dinner.”
“I’m glad you were here,” Meg said. “We’ll see you back at the bungalows, I’m sure.”
The older couple rose, and Walter shook Alex’s hand before they left.
Meg watched them walk away. The second they were out of range, Walter got back on the phone. Tina’s shoulders slumped as she walked slightly behind her husband. All Meg could do was think about what she’d done to herself, to her own life. Her work had become all-consuming. And in the end, what did it leave her with? What would she have when she was too tired to make the house calls? Memories of operations? Of birthing foals? Stitching up dogs? Could that possibly be enough?
ONCE THEY’D LEFT the restaurant and were on the path again, Alex pulled her into his arms. He looked at her, his eyes serious and his body warm. He didn’t speak. Instead, he kissed her. A long, slow, deep kiss that let her know he was glad they were alone again.
She was, too. Very glad, although she couldn’t feel too bad about sharing dinner. But this—this was what she wanted. Alex. Just Alex.
Finally, he pulled back. She laid her head on his chest as he continued to hold her tight.
“Next time we go to dinner,” he said, “let’s make sure our table is just for two.”
She nodded.
“For the record, I think you’re an amazing person.”
She looked up at him. “Really.”
He smiled at her. “It might be a problem, you know.”
“What?”
“You being so nice, and me, well…The first word that comes to mind is asshole. I’m sure there are more, but asshole pretty much sums it up.”
“I don’t believe that. Not for a second. You’ve been nothing but wonderful.”
“You bring it out in me.”
She thought about that for a moment. “You bring out good things in me, too. I guess that’s why I couldn’t wait to turn on the computer at night. It was the best part of any day.”
He kissed her again, briefly, sweetly. “You want to go check out the disco?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Oh?”
“I forgot something at the bungalow,” she said.
“You did? What?” he asked.
“To make love to you.”
“Oh.”
She took his hand in hers and turned toward the path to their end of the beach. “Any objections?”
“Not a one.”
“Cool.”
They walked, not rushing, content to be alone under the brilliant moon, letting the scented air slide over their skin. There were lots of people on the path now, some in bathing suits, some dressed to party. Almost all of them were touching, kissing. It was impossible to feel anything but romantic, but Meg knew her feelings had more to do with the man then the setting.
“You know,” he said, “when I left D.C. it was snowing. I was afraid they might cancel the flight. I was flying to the tropics, but I needed to take my heavy coat because it was freezing out there. From the moment I got to the airport,
I felt like I was cheating. Like I had something over all the poor schmucks going on their business flights, with their computers and Palm Pilots and cell phones attached to their ears. Despite the earthquake I was leaving behind, I was on vacation. But better than that, I was on vacation with you. We weren’t going to meet for hours, but it didn’t matter. You were already there. In my head. You have been for a very long time.”
“Oh, my.” She squeezed his hand as she thought about what lay ahead. She was going to have sex. With someone she liked so much. On an island. In February.
The last time she’d had sex had been, what, two years ago? And it hadn’t been the stuff of dreams. He was just a guy she’d met at a seminar. Another vet. Which turned out to be a plus when, in the middle of the rather lackluster boink, she’d had to leave. A sick dog. The guy had never called, and she hadn’t cared.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She pushed her hair behind her shoulder and tried to get back to being happy she was here with Alex.
“Come on. Something went south.”
Searching for a dismissive lie, she couldn’t think of a thing, until she remembered that this was different. She could tell him anything, right? “Just reliving my last date. If you want to call it that.”
His steps slowed. “That bad, huh?”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t awful so much as it was nothing. The heavens most definitely didn’t part.”
“Have they ever?” he asked.
“Maybe not the heavens. But I thought I was in love once,” she admitted.
“You never mentioned that before.”
“It wasn’t a big deal. A college romance. Hank was a year older, and we were both studying our tails off. He ended up at a big animal hospital in Chicago, and that was it.”
“He didn’t break your heart?”
“Not really. I think the idea of him was more attractive than the man. And since then, it’s been all work, all the time,” she said.
“You’re satisfied with that?” Alex asked.
“No. I want more. I just have to figure out how I’m going to get it.”
