Mexico

Charli

CHARLOTTE STEELE HAD her toes in the sand and a tropical drink in hand.

It was straight out of a Jimmy Buffet song, but she wasn’t exactly in paradise.

Her heart ached.

Her body wasn’t feeling much better.

Logically, she knew, after what she’d been through the past few days, the last thing she’d needed to do was take off for parts unknown—or, Playa del Carmen, to be exact. Hauling a carryon, even one as light as her own, and all the walking had been enough to make her almost pass out.

The doctors had said to take it easy.

But she’d had to get away.

Absently, Charli slid a hand down her side and gingerly probed the tender area on her abdomen. She’d checked the dressing and the wound that morning. It wasn’t red and there were no signs of infection, so she knew she hadn’t done any major damage. She’d just exhausted herself.

She’d already been exhausted and rundown on top of it, though.

What was a little more exhaustion?

Her phone chirped and she picked it up, lifting her sunglasses to better read the message in the bright sun.

All she could make out was the name, but that was enough.

She dropped it back down on the lounge next to her thigh.

Her brothers, or Riley’s girlfriend Bree, had been taking turns calling and texting her.

She’d only talked to one person—Con’s new girlfriend, Shawntelle. And nobody knew she’d been talking to Shawntelle.

The two of them had struck up an odd, and fast, friendship via Facebook and secrets Charli hadn’t ever shared had come pouring out of her as she chatted with the other woman.

She didn’t know why she found it so easy to talk to Shawntelle.

It didn’t even matter.

She only knew that for once she wasn’t burying an entire life’s worth of longing and secrets deep inside.

Since the message was from Riley, she left it alone.

She’d text him later, once she went inside to escape the sun for a while.

She already knew what he wanted anyway.

She wasn’t ready to give him an answer about when she was coming home, and she definitely wasn’t ready to tell him what was going on, so there was no need to rush into that mess.

“Would you like another drink, senorita?”

She squinted into the sunshine as one of the waiters paused by her seat. She’d learned the deal early on—she gave the first waiter who served her a ten-dollar tip to make sure he switched out alcohol for water every other drink, and kept the liquids coming.

She hadn’t come down here for anything other than to forget about the past few weeks, and the only way to do that was to keep her brain well-lubricated.

“Yes, Jorge. Please. Thank you,” she replied in the stilted Spanish she’d picked up. As he moved off toward the small structure that served as the bar, she shifted her eyes back to the incredible blue of the water.

She’d come down here to forget.

And she had to get drunk to do it, because just looking at that incredibly blue water made it almost impossible.

That color reminded her of one thing, and one thing alone—the most amazing pair of eyes in all of creation.

The eyes of Max “Shame” Schaeffer.

The man she’d loved since she was just a little girl.

The man who hadn’t picked up the phone the one time she’d needed him.

She clenched a hand into a fist and bit her inner cheek hard. It didn’t keep her mind from spinning back, though. She found herself thinking about a rainy night. And then, another night a few weeks later. It hadn’t been raining then.

Her breathing hitched.

She pressed her fingers to her left eye in sensory memory as her mind spun it all back up, churning the bits and pieces from that time like sand in an hourglass.

“Here you go, senorita. Ice water. Margarita on the rocks coming up next.”

She jerked, startled, and met Jorge’s eyes. He hesitated as he went to put down the water. “Senorita Steele, are you...ah...what is the word...are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jorge.” She gave him a tight smile and tossed back the rest of her watered-down margarita. “The heat. I think it’s getting to me.”

Concern washed over his leathery face. “Should we have somebody escort you back to the resort? The sun and heat can be brutal when you are not accustomed.”

“No.” She took the water he’d just put down and lifted it to her lips. “I probably just need more water. I’ll be fine.”

He waited another moment before he finally straightened and moved on, his tray full rainbow of drinks.

She stared at her water, focused on the ice cubes and tried not to think about the cold sweat that had broken out across her skin.