Moonlight and Margaritas (12 page)

She gathered her wetsuit without replying and headed back out on deck.

Shit.  Joe turned over the engine on his boat, giving Paul and the guests the signal that they'd be moving soon.  What the hell was he doing flirting with Elena like that?  He'd fallen back under her spell without even realizing it.  He really needed to meet someone new.

They'd had their fling.  It was time to move on.  He didn't need to be smacked upside the head with a marlin to know he was treading in dangerous waters.  He was attracted to her just a little more than was healthy for his current lifestyle plans, and that was exactly how his relationship with his last girlfriend had started. 

That had to stop.  Now.

Then again, maybe he should be patting himself on the back.  He'd been sorely tempted by Elena, but ultimately, he hadn't caved.  Things might have been a little dicey a few moments ago, but he'd extricated himself before he'd been sucked in too far.  He'd maintained control.  He was the man.

Damn good thing he was headed to Mojitos later on.

The boat rocked with each wave as Elena headed toward the wheelhouse.  Joe had pulled into Cabo's marina several minutes ago, giving her plenty of time to gather her gear and wait to see if he'd help his guests disembark.  Paul had assisted everyone instead.  She'd lingered on deck long enough to realize he was avoiding her.  Too bad.  She didn't want to leave without saying a final goodbye.

As she hovered at the door of the wheelhouse, she found Joe and Paul standing just inside, both of them stripped of their diving gear and bare-chested.  Joe glanced up, his expression not unfriendly, but definitely wary.

Elena smiled anyway.  "Thanks for an amazing experience today, at least most of the time.  I'll always remember it."

Joe and Paul both nodded.  "You're welcome," Joe said.  "Are you doing okay?  If you'd like, Paul can drive you to the medical clinic so a doc can look at you."

She shook her head.  "I'm okay.  Thanks to both of you.  Plus, the cream is really helping with the itching."

"Good."

Elena glanced between the two men, more nervous than she'd been before she'd talked to Joe for the first time the previous night.  "Would it be possible to speak to you alone?" she asked Joe.

Paul widened his eyes as though it just registered to him that he might be hampering their conversation.  "Oh, uh, yeah.  I gotta do something anyway."  The teenager hurried around the corner of the wheelhouse and out of sight.

Joe raised his brows.  "Something I can help you with?"

Elena exhaled a pent up breath.  "I don't understand this whole hot and cold thing that's going on between us.  One minute you don't want me on your boat, but you don't like any other men near me, either.  You ignore me, then you tend to me.  You flirt with me, then you turn away." 

Joe stiffened under her pointed stare.  "I treated you like I would any other guest."

"
Really
?"  That was a big, fat lie.

He shrugged.  "Yeah."

The boat bobbed, and she grabbed the door for support.  He obviously wasn't about to own his actions.  "So, there's nothing between us other than a great one-night stand?"

"No."  He folded his arms across his chest.  "Right?  I mean that's what we both wanted."

"That's what I thought, but that doesn't explain this uncomfortable wall between us."

"What wall?"

"Come on.  Admit it.  You have your guard up."

He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it.  Then opened it again.  "What do you want from me, Elena?"  He held his hands wide, an expression of confusion on his face.

"Friendship?"  She didn't want to leave with this weird, detached feeling between them.  "I would like to look back on this experience and laugh about what a great time I had."

He hesitated a second before he relaxed his features.  "Friends?  Okay, you're right.  We should be friends." 

"Good."  That made her feel better.  "More than anything else from this vacation, I'll remember you, Joe Stephens, and our hot night in Cabo."  She smiled and held out a hand.  "Thank you."

His frown returned.  He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he tugged her toward him, embracing her in a hug.  She leaned into him, enjoying the feel of his solid body against hers.  She wanted to keep him like that forever—a source of pleasure and love with no-strings, no conditions, and no expectations attached. 

He didn't immediately let her go, and she wondered if he'd be open to spending a second night together.  "I'm having dinner tonight at Playa de Cortez.  I'd love it if you'd join me."

He pulled back, and she could see the tentative look in his eyes.

"Wait.  Don't answer."  She didn't want to hear him say "no".  "Just…I'll be there at seven.  Come if you want, okay?  If not, then we part as friends."  She turned and left before he could reply.

She dared a smile at the possibility she might have another evening with him.  He'd been hesitant, but he'd also held her in a powerful embrace for longer than necessary. 

She found she liked playing the odds.

Mercedes waited for her in the marina parking lot, the rest of the passengers already loaded inside the hotel's van.  "You sure you're okay, chica?  I was really worried about you."  She surveyed the red snaking wounds on Elena's arm.  "Those are some nasty welts."

Elena handed off her gear to the driver to stow in the back of the van before she wrapped her good arm around her friend.  "I'm fine, and I'm sorry about what I said to you earlier.  I know I hurt you, and I’m deeply sorry."

Mercedes nodded, giving her an accepting smile.  "It's okay."

"I just worry about you, you know?"

"I'm a big girl, Elena."

"I know, but you're also my friend, and I want the best for you."  This was a peace offering to her friend, but she hoped Mercedes knew she wasn't about to sit back and watch her drown in a pool of self-destructive behavior. 

The issue was far from over.

Joe strode through the door of Mojitos, looking forward to the assault of cool air, dim lighting and loud music.  He wasn't disappointed.  It was still early evening and the number of guests hadn't reached full throttle yet, but there were more than a handful of women there who might be willing to flood his mind with new memories.

He was certain that's what he needed. 

Being in his favorite haunt would put things in perspective for him.  A strong shot of tequila was in order, and his good drinking buddy Marcus had already navigated his way to their spot at the bar.  No surprise that his friend hadn't lost his fondness for Hawaiian shirts, but for some reason, tonight Joe welcomed the familiarity.  Everything was back to normal.

He waited until the cowboy lifted his beer bottle to his lips before approaching and clapping Marcus on the shoulder.  His friend choked on his drink, giving Joe a good chuckle.  "How's it going, buddy?"

Marcus coughed.  "Good God, Joe.  Y'all trying to kill me?"

"Toughen up, man.  I barely touched you."  Joe slid onto his barstool, nodding to the bartender who already had his usual Corona ready.  "I'll need a shot of your best tequila, too."  He glanced at Marcus. 

His friend eyed him through watery eyes.  "What you celebrating?"

"Freedom."  Joe took the shot of tequila straight from the bartender's hand and downed it.  He gasped out his appreciation as he slammed the glass on the bar and then sucked on the lemon.

"I'm all for freedom."  Marcus lifted his bottle and touched it to Joe's.  "Hope you brought your wallet tonight.  I spent a little too much last night and need a booster."

Joe laughed.  "I did."  He swiveled in his seat, excited that he'd be making back some of his money because he
wasn't
going home alone.  "But it's not going to help you any because I'll be taking your money tonight."  He scanned the crowd, searching for a woman who could be his drug of choice to erase Elena from his mind. 

No one in particular stood out. 

He turned to Marcus, reminding himself to be patient.  "Anyone caught your eye, yet?"

He tipped his cowboy hat.  "Damn right.  I ain't been sitting here burnin' daylight."  He grinned and nodded toward the back of the bar.  "See them two buxom blondes in the corner?"

Joe spotted the women who were dressed almost identically in amazingly short denim cutoffs and skimpy lime green bikini tops.  He barked a laugh.  Marcus definitely had a "type" he preferred.  Of course, any red-blooded man wouldn't mind taking a moment to admire the curves they seemed to enjoy displaying.  One of the women caught his eye and winked.  "The twins?"

"Yup."  Marcus grinned like a man who'd just discovered a chest full of Aztec gold.

"Setting your sights high, man.  Which one you going for?"  Maybe he'd see if he could find solace in the other one's company.

"Both."

Joe snorted and glanced wide-eyed at his friend.  "Then I
really
hope you brought some cash.  If you're going for two, then you're paying double when you strike out."

Marcus laughed.  "No problemo."  He picked up his beer bottle and stood.  "Watch this." 

Joe rolled his eyes as Marcus swaggered his way to the twins' table.  Within five minutes, he had his arm wrapped around the waist of one, while the other leaned forward whispering in his ear.

Damn.  What the hell did women see in him?  Was it his southern drawl?  Maybe Joe needed to try faking one.

"What's the matter?" a female voice asked from behind him.  "Your friend won't share?"

He turned to find a long-legged brunette holding a mixed drink and smiling at him.  She wasn't over-the-top erotic like Marcus's blondes, but still exuded a fair amount of sex appeal.  Score one for him.  "Yeah, I don't know about that hick.  He's, uh, quite the player.  Apparently, women go for that sort of thing."

"Hmm…"  She purred.  "Not me.  I like someone…more like you."  She sucked the thin red straw sticking out of her fruity drink, watching him over the rim of her glass.  "Do you like to dance?"

Joe became aware of the couples dancing to a slow beat.  "Sure."  This was the first step in his recovery, and he couldn't be happier.  He left his drink on the bar and led the brunette to the dance floor.  Her perfume caught his attention as he pulled her close, but the scent was too strong, not subtly sexy like Elena's.

"How long have you been in Cabo?" she whispered in his ear.

"I’m actually living here for the moment," he answered.

A few awkward seconds went by before she spoke again.  "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a tour guide for diving expeditions."  Which reminded him, after his quick ascension earlier chasing after Elena, he'd better let Gelinas know he'd need to send any interested guests to another local dive company.  His body would need extra time to rid itself of the nitrogen before he dove again, and it wouldn't hurt him to have a few days off.

The woman in his arms pulled back and looked at him expectantly.  "You know, after you answer my question, you're supposed to follow with one of your own.  It keeps the conversation flowing."

"Sorry."  His foot caught on hers, and they stumbled a bit.  "Double sorry.  You're probably regretting asking me to dance." 

"Too much alcohol?" she asked, peering at him with dark eyes.

He laughed.  "No.  Probably not enough."

She returned the laugh, but he could tell she wasn't impressed.

The music droned on, and he tried to stay focused on where his feet were landing so he didn't screw up again.  It had been so easy to dance with Elena, but this?  This was torturous, and he knew it wasn't his partner's fault.  As beautiful as she was, their chemistry rated a zero on the attraction scale. 

When the song finally ended he had to clamp down on a sigh of relief.  She followed him back to the bar where they'd left their drinks and picked up her glass now covered in condensation.  "Thanks for the dance."

"Yeah."  He felt like a total ass.  "Sorry about your toes.  I'm usually a much better dancer."

She hesitated, then spoke.  "Look, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you don't belong here in this meat market.  It's obvious your mind is elsewhere."

"You're probably right."  His plan to erase Elena wasn't working so well. 

"Yeah."  She nodded, giving him a friendly smile before she left.

Damn it.  He downed the rest of his drink, then drummed his fingers on the bar.  How the hell was he supposed to forget Elena when he couldn't get her out of his head long enough to give another woman a chance?  Something had to give. 

He didn't want to admit it, but he wanted to see Elena again.  That he couldn't deny.  Right now, she was probably wondering if he'd show at the restaurant, and the thought of her sitting there alone nipped at his conscience.  Problem was, he couldn't allow himself to become emotionally involved.  That would screw up everything.

Okay, wait a minute.  Maybe he was coming at it from the wrong angle.  Maybe…his strong attraction to her stemmed more from the fact that she'd done the leaving that morning instead of him.  Sure, she was beautiful and intelligent, but no more so than the woman he'd just danced with.  It was his
ego
that couldn't forget her, not his heart.