“But now that the op is done,” said Chris. “I think you could—”
“Nope. It was unprofessional.”
“Unprofessional,” Chris said with an eye roll. “There it is again. They never said that about James Bond, you know.”
“Yeah, but there’s the whole gender double-standard thing.”
“Right. There’s that.” He took a swig of his beer. “Well, since you work twenty-four seven, I don’t know any other way you’d meet someone.”
I shoved the tortilla into my mouth. Me neither.
“So, back to Dalton then,” he said, his eyebrows raised. “The kiss. It was…?”
A grin crept across my face.
Chris smiled. “But the job.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what are you gonna do?”
I sighed. How the hell did I know?
“Let’s order some margaritas,” he said.
“Yeah.”
He waved to our waiter.
“You know what my job means to me, Chris. I’ve finally got what I wanted. I’m a Special Agent. I can’t mess this up. I’m holding on by a thread as it is.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of, etcetera, etcetera. But I’m not sure it’s worth it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just a difference between me and you. I wouldn’t let the job stand in my way.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “But then again, my job is just that. A job. I know yours is about your passion in life. Believe it or not, I understand your conflict. I’m afraid I don’t have any good advice.”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling deflated.
“Except that you should make a point to go out with some other guys. Just for fun. Let off a little of that steam.” He eyed me. “Maybe that would help clarify your feelings all around.”
I shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Well, we’ll just have to find you one,” Chris said. “That’s what vacations are for, right?”
“No. This vacation is to spend time with you. Just the two of us. I’ve been neglecting my friend too much lately. That’s what I’m going to focus on from now on. No men. Period.”
The waiter arrived.
“Two margaritas,” Chris said, then a quick, “Make that a pitcher.” He rose from his chair with a smile spread across his face. “Ah, here he is.”
I spun around. A guy walked toward us, smiling at Chris. He seemed familiar. I knew him, somehow.
He came right to our table, wrapped his arms around Chris and planted a big kiss on his cheek. Then it hit me. “Doug!”
He nodded, grinning at me. “In the flesh.”
I’d met Doug on my first undercover op. The op where I’d met Noah, in fact. They’d both been involved with the same activist group. And Chris had been there, too.
I rose from the chair. “You’re…? I mean, the two of you?”
They were smiling like jackals.
“So in Costa Rica you two… and now you’re together?”
Chris said to Doug. “She’s quick, really. Any second now it will kick in.”
Doug’s face fell. “You haven’t told her about me yet?”
“Poppy’s been really busy. She can be quite focused when on the job.” He turned to me. “You can be quite focused when—”
“All right”—I held up my hands—“I’m such a bad friend. I can’t believe this. I’ve been so clueless.” I gave Doug a hug. “But I’m happy for you. Really. Wow,” I pulled back and looked at him. “Doug from Costa Rica.”
I searched my memory for details. An aspiring actor, bartender. He had a rugged handsomeness, all muscles and clean-cut—that all-American boy look. He stood a few inches taller than Chris and had a good thirty pounds on him, with the arms of a man who’d thrown his share of hay bales. Chris was his opposite, with his olive skin and alluring eyes. They were adorable together.
Chris grabbed him by the hand and guided him to the chair next to him.
I plopped back down in my chair and waved to our waiter. “Otro vaso, por favor.” Another glass, please.
“Margaritas,” Chris said to Doug. “Poppy’s working out a serious dilemma. We figured a little tequila was in order.”
“I see,” said Doug. “Anything I can help—”
I glared at Chris. “Enough about me. Tell me all about how you two got together. I mean, obviously I missed it. So, fill me in.”
Their eyes met and—I swear to God—twinkled.
“Well, it was that morning, at Noah’s treehouse,” Chris said, the words gushing out. “Tell her.” He nudged Doug.
Doug turned suddenly shy. “You tell her.”
A hint of disappointment crossed Chris’ face. He nudged Doug again. “C’mon, don’t be that way.”
Resigned, Doug started. “When I got there and saw Chris for the first time—”
“He couldn’t take his eyes off of me.”
Doug nodded. “He was playing with Clyde. It was so sweet.”
Clyde was a white-faced capuchin who’d been taken captive as an infant and made a pet by a wildlife smuggler. He’d become part of the activists’ group, their mascot. Everyone loved him.
“I miss Clyde,” I said.
Doug gave me a warm smile. “He was a good little monkey. And I’ll never forget seeing him and Chris together.” He turned to Chris, his eyes shiny with bliss.
“It was love at first sight.” Chris glowed with joy. “And you, carrying a watermelon. Like Baby in Dirty Dancing. All shy and sexy as hell.”
Doug let out a little laugh. “That’s how I felt, too. My tongue wouldn’t work to form words.”
“I thought it was adorable,” Chris said.
The waiter set the pitcher of margaritas and three glasses on the table. He lingered a moment, his eyes on Doug, a discomfort in his manner.
I waited for him to be gone from earshot. “That was odd,” I said.
“We’re used to it,” Chris said, blowing it off.
“Guys like us, being open, isn’t exactly commonly accepted here in rural Mexico,” Doug said. “Well, anywhere for that matter.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” I muttered. Though the waiter hadn’t looked at Chris that way. Only Doug.
I poured margaritas from the pitcher, and handed glasses to Doug and Chris, then held mine up. “To the love birds.”
We clinked our glasses and I downed a hefty swallow of the citrus-infused tequila. Yowza, that was potent, but I welcomed it. All this lovey-dovey talk was making me feel worse about Dalton. Totally selfish, I knew. I was happy for Chris. Really. But Chris always had his act together. Of course he’d meet someone who adores him and they’d have a wonderful relationship.
Aw, hell. Buck up, McVie. Be a good friend. I said, “And then what happened?”
“You sent us shopping.”
I had. They’d played a part in my undercover op.
“Poor Jack,” said Doug, unable to keep his eyes off Chris. “He must’ve felt like the awkward third wheel.”
“He was a good sport,” Chris said.
“But then, when you stood up to that crook, I mean, you had him by the short hairs, and I knew you were made of steel.”
Chris glanced at me. “I was terrified, actually. It was all part of the act.”
Doug put his arm around Chris and snugged him closer. “If he’d’a laid one hand on you, I’d’ve beat him to a bloody pulp.”
“Well, I didn’t know that. You were only playing my bodyguard, remember?” He grinned. “You made great arm candy though.”
Doug turned back to me. “I guess we have you to thank for bringing us together.” He held up his glass. “To Poppy.”
“Ah,” I said and welcomed another belt of tequila.
“So, the tequila, is it helping?” he asked.
“What?”
“The dilemma,” he said.
Chris shook his head. “Nothing can help Poppy out of her own head.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said, decided another gulp might. “It’s a work thing. A rule I might’ve broken.”
Chris smirked. “Since she’s such a rule follower.”
“Hey, I carry a badge.”
“She’s got man troubles,” Chris said. “Bad.”
Doug hesitated, his eyes flitting from Chris to me. “Did you already tell her—”
Chris made a tiny shake of his head.
“Hey, there’s lots of fish in the sea,” Doug said, all cheery and optimistic.
I think I scowled, but I managed to turn it into a hopeful grin. Not sure I fooled either one of them though.
I stared at my glass, giving it a turn, then another turn, then I looked back at them. “How is Noah?”
Chris stifled a grin. I wanted to smack him. It was his fault I was thinking about Noah—Noah with the tummy-tingling smile, the athletic, lithe body and the I-live-life-the-way-I-want-the-rest-be-damned attitude.
“Good. Good,” Doug said.
“What’s he been up to? Since I saw him last?” Have a girlfriend already?
“Well, you know, he’s been good,” he said, nodding uncomfortably.
Yeah, I shouldn’t have been asking anyway.
“So,” I pasted on a happy face. “I’m so glad you’re dating. What a wonderful surprise. The big secret revealed.”
Doug turned to Chris. “Shall we tell her?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“What? Tell me what?”
Chris gazed at Doug, all smitten, then looked back to me. “We’re engaged!”
“Oh my gosh.” Oh my gosh! “Congratulations!” I leaped from my chair, knocking over my margarita.
“You devil!” I lunged into Chris’s arms again. “Not a peep. I can’t believe it. I’m so happy for you two.”
I hugged Doug, too. Then Chris again before I sat back down.
The waiter rushed over to wipe up my spilled drink.
“So when’s the big day? What’s the plan? I’m so out of the loop.”
Chris laced his fingers together. “I was hoping you would help me plan it.”
“Oh, Chris.” I blinked back my emotions. God, I was a mess.
“As soon as we’re married, I’m going to build Chris his dream house.”
Chris swooned. “Doug’s been taking a class in carpentry.”
“Are you done eating?” Doug asked, looking at his watch. “Ready for the rest of the surprise?”
“There’s more?”
“I’ll pull the Jeep up to the door,” he said and was gone.
“Are we in a hurry?” I asked Chris.
“Just running a little late is all,” he said with a grin.
“Right. My fault. I didn’t know.”
“How could you?” He tossed some money on the table as he rose from his chair.
I got up to follow him. “Doug’s a great guy. He’s obviously madly in love with you. I’m really happy for you.”
“I know. I keep pinching myself.” He smiled wide, happier than I’d ever seen him.
I sat in the back seat of the Jeep with Lucky the dog on the seat next to me. The top was down. I had to tuck my hair under a hat to keep it from swirling around my head, but the fresh air was worth it.
About ten miles down the road, Doug turned the Jeep off the main road, if you could call it that, onto a two-track that curved through a lush valley, then back to the seaside. Finally, he pulled into a grassy lot, killed the engine, flung open the door and piled out.
“We walk from here.”
“Where are you taking me?” I asked for the forty-seventh time, tightening my backpack straps.
“Still a surprise,” Chris said. “But I guarantee you’re going to love it.”
A hundred yards down a narrow path, the entire length of which we shoved palmetto fronds out of our way, we came to a wooden post with a hand-carved sign that read, “Sea Turtle Conservation Camp.”
I came to a halt, giddy with excitement. “Turtles?”
Chris nodded. “Doug has been working here for a few months. When I came to visit the first time, I knew right away that you had to come, too. You’re gonna love it.”
“Yes, yes I am!”
“And you couldn’t have timed it any better,” Doug added. “We expect an arribada any day now. Conditions are ripe. High tide, new moon coming.”
“An arribada?” I asked. “I’m not familiar with that term.”
“It’s a mass nesting of olive-ridley turtles. Thousands, could be tens of thousands, simultaneously crawling out of the ocean, sometimes scrambling over each other to find a place on the beach to bury their eggs. The great part is, because this beach is so remote, they’ve managed to keep it a secret from tourists.”
My mouth must have dropped open.
“I told you you’d like it,” Chris said, all grins.
I wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. “You’re the best.”
“Let’s go then,” he said. “Pick up the pace.” He winked and turned to continue.
Another fifty yards down the trail, we emerged from the jungle onto a beach where rolling waves folded over and lapped up onto the sand.
To our right, the undergrowth had been cleared above the highwater line and a camp built in the shade of the tall trees. One sturdy cabin was surrounded by several palapa-covered platforms with hammocks hanging from wooden posts.
“It’s a little rustic, but Chris said you could hang,” Doug said.
“Yes, of course.”
“The gang’s probably eating down in the cooking area. We eat a late lunch, then have personal time before we head out on patrol,” Doug said, gesturing for us to follow. “There’s a wood-fired stove. We take turns cooking the meals for our little crew.”
A small group of volunteers were gathered around a picnic table. Three young women and two guys, college students, for sure. And Noah.
Noah with his confident, movie-star stance, looking at me with those eyes, those all-passion-all-the-time eyes. “Noah?”
He rose from the table. “Poppy.”
My breath caught at the back of my throat. “Noah.”
He smiled and a warmth flushed through my body.
“Poppy.”
I spun around and shot Chris a you-didn’t look.
He winked.
I spun back around. “I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I said, the words sticking to the roof of my mouth. “I mean, I didn’t know you were here.” My god, McVie, you are smooth. “What I mean is, Chris dragged me down here as a surprise. I had no idea.”
Noah looked right at Doug. “Well, that makes two of us.”
His eyes came back to me.
I rushed forward and gave him a hug. “It’s nice to see you.”
His arms around me, his body pressed to mine, felt so…right.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said with that husky voice, the one that stimulates that hormone that turns off my brain and makes me want to—
“These are our student volunteers,” Doug said. “Tyler and Justin. And Molly and Nikki. And Rosie is here all the way from the U.K.”
“Ah, that’s great,” I said, shaking their hands with way too much enthusiasm, trying not to look at Noah.
I let my eyes go there, to his, for a moment. Okay, it could have been half a second, could have been five minutes. I don’t know.
Finally, I broke away, back to the students. They stared at me, amused looks on their faces.
Yeah, whatever. We had a thing. So what?
“Are you all studying to be marine biologists?”
I got shrugs, general shaking of their heads. “We just want to help save turtles,” Molly said.
They hovered over the dog, cooing and petting her while she wagged her tail like crazy.
“Good for you.” I glanced back at Noah.
Doug piped up. “We wanted you both to celebrate with us. After all, you brought us together.”
He and Chris wore their jackal smiles
again. Chris winked. Again. Geez.
Noah didn’t seem to notice. “So. How are you?” he asked, his eyes locked on mine.
“I’m good.”
“Your job?”
“Good. You?”
He stepped closer, whispered, “The last time I saw you, you slipped away without a proper goodbye.”
A rush of guilt flooded through me. “You know I—”
“It’s all right.” His eyes held me in a trance. “I understand.”
The sound of his voice, his eyes, took me back to his treehouse and the night we’d spent together. That hot, steamy night. “Don’t let me keep you from your meal,” I said and stood there like a dope.
He eased backward, keeping his eyes on mine. “Yes, I admit, I’m ravished.” He blinked. “I mean famished.” He grinned. “You fluster me.”
“I do not,” I said but couldn’t stop my cheeks from blushing.
His eyes moved to my lips, held there.
Doug stepped forward. “Yeah, why don’t you finish your dinner. I’ll give Poppy the grand tour.”
Chris grabbed me by the hand and we were headed toward the cabin.
Doug and Chris couldn’t stop grinning.
My fists landed on my hips and I dug my heels into the sand. “You guys realize how obvious you are, right?”
Doug shrugged. Chris winked.
“And stop with the winking!”
Chapter Three
I followed Doug and Chris in a daze. That unexpected reunion with Noah made me anxious. No, anxious wasn’t the word. Nervous? No. Whatever the word was for it, my heart was pumping faster than normal. I needed to get my head on straight before I saw him again.
Doug led us to the palapa-covered platforms, the sleeping quarters for volunteers. He showed me where I’d be sleeping and pointed out the eco-outhouse that was fifty feet or so down a side trail. Then back to the cabin, the center of it all.
“This is where we keep all the documentation, our equipment, that kind of stuff,” Doug held out his hand. “Give me your passport and anything else you have of value. We’ll keep it here in the safe. Oh, and your phone, too. You won’t get a signal out here anyway.”
I handed over my documents and phone.
“So is this a research station, then?” I asked.
Operation Turtle Ransom: A suspenseful, wild-ride-of-an-adventure on a tropical beach in Mexico (Poppy McVie Mysteries Book 4) Page 3
