Accidentally in Love Page 3

  “Hey, welcome back.” Camille smiled. “You took off on me for a sec. Drinks here.” She lifted her shot and clanked it against mine. “Bottoms up, girlfriend.” She winked and tipped the amber-coloured fluid back.

  I followed suit and downed my shot, ending with a shudder. I wasn’t a fan of tequila. “Wow.”

  I opened the leather-bound menu and perused the few choices for dinner. Each meal came with an appetizer, a salad, a dinner of choice, and followed with a dessert. No wonder they recommended booking a couple of hours. It would be an experience for sure.

  Deciding what I wanted to eat, preferably something tame and known, I set my menu down. “I was flipping through the hotel guide and there are lots of neat things to do while we’re here. I’d love to go whale watching and do the turtle release.” Both of those sounded pretty tame. There were other, more adrenaline-based excursions, but not to my liking.

  She didn’t move her focus off the menu. “Nah. I’m content to hang out on the resort and relax.”

  “I’d pay for your outings.” Camille had drained her meager savings to join me. She’d never been a penny-pincher or a saver, rather a-spend-as-you-get-it type person. Actually, I was pretty sure she lived off her credit card. I, on the other hand, always had been a saver. My savings were very well padded, so much so, that taking time off between jobs and throwing in a ten-day trip barely scraped the surface.

  Peeling her gaze off the nice selection of food choices, she gave me a look that suggested I end that conversation instantly.

  “So,” I said, changing the topic back to our relaxing plans. “Want to hang out on the beach or the pool tomorrow?”

  “If it’s the pool, one of us needs to get there early and save seats. Wade says after eight there’s nothing available.”

  That wasn’t that early, at least for me. “Sure, I’ll grab the seats. It’ll be fun to hang out by the infinity pool all day and swim up to the bar.”

  “Great, can you get seats in the adults only pool? I don’t want to be splashed by the kids.”

  I sighed. The adults only pool was surrounded by bushes and trees, closing it off. There was no beach view from that area. It was something I couldn’t wrap my head around. Why would you come here and not take in the view? “Are you sure? The beach view is pretty amazing.” I looked out west to drive my point home.

  The sun was nearing the horizon, sending golden rays of oranges and pinks across the sky. It didn’t even hurt to stare at the orb as it lowered itself, eventually touching the edge of the ocean. It was beautiful.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, if we party tonight, you’re not going to want to listen to the screams of children either.” She gave me a soft nod. “That’s why these restaurants are nicer than the buffet one. No kids here.” She sighed and shifted in her seat. “I deal with those little brats all day long so don’t take it so personally that I want a break from them. It doesn’t make me a bad person.”

  “I never said that.”

  “No, but your face did.” She pointed at me. “Here, I’m not Miss Evans. Here, I’m Camille, the Canadian partygoer. You should crawl out of your shell a bit too. Ditch the girl you are at home and unleash your inner goddess. Because honestly, you’re a fucking knockout, and there could be a hell of a party between your legs if you’d let it happen.”

  “Thanks, Camille.” I wasn’t sure if it was a back-handed compliment or not. Who was I back home? A dedicated employee. I was, until I had to quit. My co-workers were making my life hell and reporting their behaviour to the boss only made the situation worse. Boss was probably as bad as they were, anyway. Just as well I got out. The new dental office seems much more professional. Time to move on to bigger and better things.

  Mesmerized, I watched as the sun fully immersed itself in the ocean, turning off its full glow. All around us, a flickering of soft lights lit up the terrace, and the waiter appeared out of nowhere and lit the candle in the center of our table.

  “Another round of drinks, please,” Camille asked him and watched as he walked away. “You know, I could get used to this. It’s so much nicer than back home.” She placed her hand on mine and squeezed. “Thanks for asking me to join you. I love that you are my best friend and that you asked me to get away with you and help you unwind.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Maybe here, you’ll even find your happiness again.” Stretching out her other hand, she tucked some of my hair behind my ear.

  Camille always got extra affectionate with alcohol, which is probably how she convinced Wade to join her own personal party. I didn’t worry. Camille was a control freak and was able to defend herself in just about any situation. To me, her affection was just Camille being Camille, and the constant touching she did never bothered me. Jumping her chair closer to mine, she caressed my cheek and leaned against my shoulder.

  The weight of a thousand stares pulled me away from the top of Camille’s head as I searched the terrace for the source. Suddenly I made eye contact with Jon.

  Challenge completed.

  Chapter Four

  Camille had another couple of rounds and drank mine as well. The drinks were stronger in the a la carte restaurant than they were on the pool deck, and it hit Camille pretty hard. Her inhibitions were no longer inhibited. She rubbed my thigh. Or my back. Or she twirled my hair. I didn’t mind because it was Camille, my best friend since grade school. What bothered me were the stares and sly smiles I’d catch on Jon’s face when I made eye contact. How lucky that he was sitting two tables over and had a direct line of sight to my drunk and flirtatious best friend, who strangers would probably think was my overzealous lover.

  The meal was finished, and I left a hefty tip for the waiter tucked under my water glass. Camille had flirted incessantly with him and he looked very uncomfortable. Even I was borderline annoyed, and I was used to it. The huge tip was my apology for allowing her to continue drinking as I should’ve stopped her at least a round ago. Probably two rounds if I was being honest.

  “Alrighty, time to go.” I braced myself and gave my hand to Camille to pull her to a stand.

  She was a dead weight and yanked so hard I thought my arm would break free from its socket. “You’re so beautiful, Tess.” She ran her hand down the side of my cheek.

  Heat flooded across my face. “And you’re so drunk.”

  “Nope. I feel fine.”

  As much as I wanted to believe that, I knew better. Her first step was a stumble, and I nearly missed catching and righting her. It was going to be a long walk back up to the hotel room.

  “Do you need a hand?” Jon rose as I pulled Camille passed his table.

  “She just needs to walk it off, but thanks.”

  “I love you, T-bird.” Camille tipped her head onto my shoulder and wrapped her arm around my waist.

  I somehow managed to stagger Camille out into the lobby and up to her hotel room, an adventure which took a full thirty minutes. The resort wasn’t that big, she was just that drunk and everything was suddenly very interesting. Ever watched a drunk person have a conversation with a pot of flowers? Not nearly as amusing as it sounds. And when her reflection in the elevator talked back, the squeal that exited her rivaled a child’s at seeing Santa Claus.

  Even digging her key card out was a battle, but I finally found it and unlocked her room.

  “Ah, home,” she said, freeing her feet from her sandals, which slid across the room. She flopped over to the bed, ignoring the swan made out of towels, and fell face first into the white duvet. “Just let me sleep for a little bit, and then we can go out. Go dancing in the bar or go to the games room.”

  She was a lightweight with her alcohol. Almost like she had a borderline intolerance of it. It didn’t take much for it to affect her and tonight proved that. With all the food, the five or six shots should not have knocked her out. She should’ve paced herself more but really, as her best friend, I should’ve intervened.

  I put her phone and key card on the desk and
sat beside her, rubbing her back. “Oh, Camille. What am I going to do with you?” Grabbing the remote, I flipped on the TV, however, everything was in Spanish, and I was in no mood to translate it all inside my head. It was a process as I translated into French, which I knew well and then into English. Tonight, I didn’t have the energy. Instead, I stretched out beside Camille and closed my eyes.

  After a few blissful moments of solitude, Camille bolted upright and covered her mouth. “Time to go, Tess.” She ran for the bathroom.

  Another good thing about Camille was she knew my limitations and being around someone while they were physically ill was one of them. Before her retching sounds assaulted my ears, I was already out the door. Just knowing she was throwing up was enough to turn my stomach and make me feel ill, I’d likely be joining her prayers to the porcelain god if I didn’t escape. Camille had once told me I was a physical empath, whatever the hell that meant. I thought it was more like I just couldn’t stand the sound of barfing.

  I made sure the door was closed and locked and headed over to the elevator. It was still early and going back to my own room wasn’t an appealing thought when there was still so much to see and do. Upon stepping into the elevator, I spotted a sign for the nightly entertainment. Tonight’s performance was the Mexican take on Grease. Having memorized the movie from watching it a hundred times as a kid, it sounded like a fun way to pass the time.

  It was a nice walk over to the other part of the resort where the play was about to be performed. The theater area was tucked behind the resort, impossible to have seen from my balcony, which was surprising given the size of the place. A stage sat at the far end and there had to be over two hundred chairs set up. I picked one near the front and off to the side.

  “Can’t wait to see who plays Kenickie.”

  I turned in the direction of the male voice, wondering if he’d been addressing me.

  Jon sat in the chair behind me, smiling his charming dimpled smile. “Good evening, Jess.” He winked at me, and for a moment I had the chance to take in his soulful eyes. They weren’t dark like I’d thought or a mossy green. Instead, under the stage lights, they were a soft blue, almost grey.

  Right, I was Jessica. “Good evening.” I returned my focus to the stage. A cardboard cutout of Greased Lightning sat propped up on the left side, near the stairs.

  “Where’s your date?”

  “My best friend,” I corrected, “is up in her room puking.” I hung my head, shame filling me as I just absolutely can’t handle being around a sick person. Had I been paying more attention to her, I would’ve stopped the drinking from getting out of hand.

  “Yuck.”

  “I agree. That’s why I’m here. I’m a terrible human for not being compassionate about that, or worse, not even being able to physically stomach helping her. But I’ll check on her in a bit.” I waved my phone. “She’ll text me when the worst is over.”

  “I don’t think that knocks on your compassion. I think it means you know your limits.”

  “Anyway …” I turned my attention back to him and searched out his entourage, that big guy Irwin and the petite lady who ate supper with them. “Where are your friends?”

  “This kind of thing doesn’t interest them in the least.” He rose and pointed to the chair beside me. “May I move there?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great, it’s a little awkward talking to the side of your face, as beautiful as it is.”

  Well damn. That was the sweetest thing I’ve been told in a long while. He inched in front of me, and I took every opportunity to check out the perfect ass moving beneath a pair of white pants. They fit him like a glove—not too tight and not so baggy it was all left to the imagination. There was enough showcased to send my imagination sailing.

  “That’s better,” he said, sitting and readjusting the chair. He crossed his legs and placed his hands in his lap.

  I pulled my wrap over my shoulders as a warm breeze blew through the area. “So, how was your dinner?”

  “Amazing. The food here is so good. How was yours?”

  “Great. My friend is a little cautious with her eating, but she managed to find something to enjoy. I liked the variety to choose from and had the goat meat tacos with extra hot sauce.”

  “Yeah, I like things spicy too.” He winked and I cast my gaze to the ground.

  Spicy would not be a category I fell into. Fact was, Camille was the adventurous one who had the goat meat tacos while I ate the more cautious foods, such as the enchiladas with ground beef and a mild sauce. But whatever, I wasn’t dining with Jon.

  “Tomorrow … do you have plans?”

  “Oh yeah, big plans.” That beach was calling my name, however, this time I’d be more proactive in my sunscreen application.

  “Ah, too bad. I’m taking a sailing tour over to the island tomorrow. Rumor has it, on the west side, there is a nudist beach, and there’s supposed to be an authentic eatery. Everything’s cooked over a fire since there’s no electricity. Thought maybe you’d want to join me.”

  “On the nudist beach?” I scoffed. Dream on, lover boy.

  He shook his head. “Oh, God, no. Not my thing. I wouldn’t mind collecting a few starfish to take home. They're supposed to be plentiful over there as long as the naked tourists are gone.”

  “You know it’s illegal, and that they kill those, right? The ones you buy in the mercados? They haven’t died of natural causes.”

  “Really?”

  “So I’ve heard.” I shrugged, not remembering who had told me that. But it stopped me from ever buying one.

  The opening lyrics of Grease blasted through the speakers, crackling in intensity and silencing any further conversation. Although the show was magnificent with the actors singing and dancing and generally doing a bang-up job, I couldn’t keep my focus on them entirely. Jon kept checking me out and moving in his seat, attempting to drape his arm on the back of my chair. He didn’t get that far, but it wasn’t for a lack of effort. I’d like to think it was because he was nervous or something.

  Forty minutes later they wrapped up with a huge finale, running into the audience and pulling people onto their feet. I was one, and at first, I wanted to say no and firmly glue my ass to the chair, but jumping up and dancing like no one cared, that was something Jessica would do. Besides, no one here knew I was a terrible dancer, and most likely, they probably didn’t care either.

  I hopped up and joined the guy who played Sonny and did my best imitation of the hand jive. It was more like some kind of fit as I nearly hit him in the face, but still it was fun. There was something oddly freeing about laughing and having a hoot in front of complete strangers. I wished Camille could’ve seen it.

  The song ended as the lights on the stage dimmed and the rest of the area lit up. Party was over.

  “You were great.” Jon appeared by my side.

  “You should’ve come up. Frenchie did ask you to dance.”

  “No thanks. I prefer to sit and watch.”

  “Do you now?” It came out before I could stop myself.

  He responded by smirking. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to the main part of the resort.” He offered me his arm, which I hesitated to take. “I promise I don’t bite.”

  Slowly, I wrapped my fingers around his arm, and watched his face attempt to hide his delight. I hoped I was more successful in keeping mine under wraps.

  “Shall we?” He led me out of the courtyard.

  We roamed silently along a lit path back to the main entrance of the resort. The breeze was warm as it blew around us. Gentle sounds from wind chimes joined the rhythmic chirping of the grasshoppers. It was a beautiful symphony and a feast for the ears. I could’ve stayed out on the path for the whole evening, but alas, I followed Jon into the lobby.

  “Care to grab a drink?” he asked as he released my hand.

  “On one condition.”

  “And that would be?”

  “We take it outside. It’s too nice to be insi
de.” And it was quieter. Even through the glass doors the music blared. I wasn’t in a party mood; I’d rather enjoyed the cozy, borderline romantic walk back and didn’t want the night to end.

  “Fair enough.” He held open the door.

  The bass was an assault on my eardrums and soul. We marched through crowds of people, both young and old, as we passed two pool tables and several bar-height tables littered with glasses filled with a multitude of coloured fluids.

  At the bar, Jon leaned against the wooden railing. “What would you like?” He cupped his hand around my ear, his warm breath tingling against it as he tried to not yell over the music.

  “A cabana.” Yes, I preferred the froufrou girly drinks, and the cabanas were right up my alley. Pina colada mix, vodka, and grenadine to give it a healthy pink flush. I wasn’t much of a beer drinker, nor a straight up hard liquor consumer. I needed the sweet.

  He gave me a look that questioned my sanity, but turned to the bartender. “Dos cabanas, por favor.”

  Drinks in hand, he motioned back to the lobby, which I happily led us to, holding the door open for him this time. Once the doors closed, the volume dropped by seventy-five percent and we were free to talk at a normal level.

  He handed me a pink drink. “Your cabana.”

  “Cheers.” I clinked it against his and walked over to the stairs, descending the tiled steps to the main floor. A few feet away from the stairwell, the open air greeted me like an old friend, and I welcomed the embrace.

  I decided against the tables scattered around the pool and instead parked my butt on a rattan couch built for two, it felt a little more romantic sharing the seat. Jon sat beside me, and we were close enough that our knees touched.

  We were in a darker part of the resort, but not in total darkness. Lights from the nearby pools provided ambient lighting, as did the inset lights around the paths. Where the daytime was prone to more of a boisterous atmosphere, the evening was soft and romantic.

  “It’s beautiful here.”