Paper Moon (25 page)

”

With a huff of boredom, Karen grabbed John's arm and dragged him out of the mainstream of visitors. “Let's get away from these children.” She pointed to a dimly lit niche in the rock. “Take my picture over here.”

Assuming a Hollywood pose for the camera, she smiled. The flash went off with John's push of the button.

“Now let me get you.”

“Let's not let the group get too far ahead.”

“Indeed, that would be a bad idea, no, señor?”

The hair on John's neck lifted, raked by the cold invisible finger of recognition. He knew that voice even before he saw the face of Jorge Rocha's henchman, the same guy who'd beat the greedy college student to a pulp. Argon was taller and thinner than his boss, with a ragged scar across his face from forehead to cheek. John wondered how the eye it skipped over had been spared.

“John?” Innocent as she was, Karen recognized a thug when she saw one—or maybe it was Argon's overpowering cologne that ran her off. She hurried to John's side for protection, sending his thoughts into a furious spin.

Argon ran with the pack, too cowardly to take anyone on alone . . . which meant he was most likely here to deliver a message.

“Don't be frightened,
señorita
. I work here and do not wish for you and your friend to get lost. You are not to leave your group.”

“Right.” Karen tugged on John's arm. “Let's go.”

“Young people should keep in touch with their families, no,
señor?”

So that was it. John had not touched base with Rocha since the day at the pyramids, and El Jefe was getting nervous.

“They might think that you have run off or gotten lost.”

Like he was crazy enough to make the same mistake as the last kid who double-crossed Rocha?

John nodded. Javier must have OD'd on carbs and forgotten to let his uncle know what had happened. “Yeah,” he said. “We'd better catch up. When I get my cell phone charged, I'll even call home.”

“John, the tour's almost out of sight,” Karen said.

John lifted his hand at Argon. “Keep up the good work, buddy.

Sorry we dallied.”

By the time he and Karen caught up with the tail end of the tour, John ventured a look over his shoulder. Instead of moving along toward the exit with the crowd, the illustrious Argon was heading in the wrong direction, the idiot. Still, John's heart scampered over itself from the encounter. Even idiots were dangerous.

Caroline sat on a bench near the snack stand and rubbed the back of her heel. It wasn't blistered yet. To save further abrasion from the sandal strap, she put a Band-Aid on it.

“I can't believe you wore sandals,” Dana remarked. “The brochure recommended sneakers for all the tours.”

“What price, beauty,” Caroline grumbled.

The yellow daisy on her black sandals had been a perfect match to the one on her black and yellow cropped pant set. Contrary to her practical nature, she'd tried for a feminine look as opposed to the sensible but klutzy pyramid-climber ensemble. But after all that walking down into the belly of the earth and climbing back out, she looked as though she'd just finaled in the Olympics— sweating, limping, and grinning through the pain.

“Besides, I didn't get to read the brochure last night like some people. Otherwise I'd have worn sneakers and left this sweater behind.” She tugged at the garment tied to her waist. “I thought all caves were cool.”

“If you had gone out and missed Blaine last night, I'd have personally wrung your neck.”

Caroline cut her friend a sidewise glance. “You
could
have warned me about this Cupid conspiracy.”

When Caroline had returned to the room last night, the girls interrogated her until she pulled rank on them, insisting on lights out and quiet. In truth, she could have played coy at their questions in a pajama party. Instead, she'd replayed the scenes with Blaine over and over in her mind—their conversation, the dancing, the romance—until sleep claimed her with the memory of his goodnight kiss outside the door.

She should have guessed the girls would be spying. But for the latch catching when she finally opened the door to her room, both would be sporting black eyes. As it was, they sprawled backwards, dissolving into squeals of embarrassed laughter. Surely Blaine heard the commotion, but he retreated like a gentleman to his room, rather than amplify Caroline's embarrassment with his presence.

“Blaine is the only one that matters.” At Caroline's scowl, Dana held up her hand as if taking an oath. “No one else that I know of.

Of course, Randy knows about it, but refuses to weigh in one way or the other. But even those who don't know that you two are involved think you should be.”

Involved.
The word bounced off the walls of Caroline's mind like the echoes in the caverns. Reason seesawed back and forth between excitement and caution. Part of her wanted to fly on the wings of love. Blaine wanted to take care of her—and of Annie.

When her daughter told her how he'd asked her permission to court her mother, Caroline's heart had melted. And when he'd awakened a side of her she'd thought beyond revival with his touch, his kiss, so had the rest of her.

Yet another side wanted to run on the feet of fear. He wanted to take care of her. Did that mean putting her in a box where she lost her identity again? Would he break Annie's heart? And could the woman he'd awakened in Caroline bear rejection again when someone younger and smarter turned his head?

“I see you found the Band-Aids,” Blaine said, interrupting the mental fray with his return from the snack bar. “I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a kitchen sink in that bag somewhere.”

“Mothers invented the Boy Scout motto,” Dana told him. “Be prepared.”

Blaine handed over one of the iced lemonades he and Randy purchased from the vendor.

“Delicious,” Caroline pronounced after taking a sip. “This is the real thing—”

“Mom!” Annie snapped a picture before approaching the bench with her entourage in tow.

Great,
Caroline thought. Now her what-the-cat-dragged-out-ofthe-cave look was preserved for posterity.
Thank You, God, that Annie
wasn't around when Blaine showed up last night. I have enough to atone
for without bludgeoning my child to death with a disposable camera.

She pulled an exaggerated grimace. “Gee, we missed you guys.”

“I hope you didn't try to get any pictures in the caverns,” Blaine said. “There's no way to capture something that impressive on film.”

“We know.” Annie grinned at him, nothing short of adoration in her gaze. “Buy the postcards. What is it with you? Have you got a postcard franchise or something?”

Blaine winced, digging into a bag from the souvenir shop. “I've been found out.” He produced a book. “I guess I can return this book with professionally done pictures about the caves.”

“Oh, man.” Annie took the book and opened it. “I was looking at this earlier, but it would break my pocketbook. It'd be great for Mom's school.”

“That's what I was thinking.”

“Are you going to tell them about that creep in the cavern?”

Kurt asked, peering over Annie's shoulder at the book.

“What creep?” Caroline asked.

“You are such a big mouth,” Karen admonished him.

“It was nothing really,” John spoke up. “Karen and I stopped to take a picture, and some guy who worked for the place came out of the shadows and told us to catch up with the others.”

Blaine pounced. “Couldn't you take a picture without leaving the group?”

Karen jumped in on the defense. “Not without a dozen other people in it, Daddy.”

“Yeah, they weren't that far behind,” Kurt said, earning surprised looks from Karen and John. He heaved a big shrug. “So sue me. I went back to check on you two and saw him. He didn't look like a tour guide to me.”

“Me neither,” Karen agreed. “This guy wore a suit, and his aftershave stunk to high heaven.”

“What made you think he worked for the place?” Blaine asked John.

John threw up his arms. “Look, I don't know, man. He told us to catch up with the others, and we did. I wasn't going to stand there and argue with him.”

“And it was my fault, Daddy,” Karen said, coming to John's defense. “I wanted to sit on the rail and pose by one of the big rocks, so I made John wait till the others moved on.” She gave Kurt a scathing look. “I wasn't going to say anything about it.”

Blaine studied John. “Do you think we should report this guy?”

John held the man's gaze. “I don't think it was a big deal, but do whatever you think. It doesn't matter to me.”

Caroline spoke up. “Maybe you should report him,” she said.

“Can't hurt, and might help.” At least it would take the paternal heat off John.

CHAPTER
19

“Acapulco or bust.”

The excitement of the students resounded in the cheer as Bill pulled away from the restaurant-souvenir shop where they'd stopped for lunch. With history out of the way, only fun and adventure awaited for the next two days.

“So what did Hector say?” Caroline asked Blaine, once the vehicle was underway. “About the guy in the cavern.”

“He informed the manager, and a couple of security officers were sent to sweep the caverns, although the likelihood of finding someone who doesn't want to be found is small. They didn't seem terribly concerned, since no one was hurt and the guy did offer good advice.”

Caroline leaned against the bus seat. “Well, at least they know about him.”

“Maybe a little scare will make my daughter have more respect for the rules.” He whistled a breath of exasperation.

“Hey, rebellion isn't just limited to teens,” Caroline protested. “I read in my devotional this morning about a hotel that sat on the edge of a river. They posted a sign that said ‘No fishing from the rooms,' but everyone was doing it. Then one employee suggested to the exasperated manager that they take the sign down. He did, and the fishing stopped!”

“A ‘lead me not into temptation' rule, huh?”

“I guess people never thought of it until they saw the sign.”

Caroline frowned. “I'm sure there's a message in there for us as parents . . . like, concentrate on dos rather than don'ts?” Her thought process brightened. “It's basically a standard educational tool that accents the positive.”

Blaine shook his head in wonder. “How do you do that?”

The mental light went out. “Do what?”

“Make connections like that. I'd never have compared a fishing sign to working with kids.”

“That's because you are left-brained, or linear in thought. Being a scatterbrain, I find the pieces off the beaten path.” Caroline grinned.

“Scattered or not, it's a gift.” Blaine put his hand over hers and squeezed it.

The compliment made her squirm . . . or was it the kindling of interest in the gaze Blaine locked with hers. He wanted to kiss her . . . and he did. Not with his lips, but with his look. The memory of his kiss the night before played upon her lips as though it were the real thing.

“Mom?” Annie peeked through the crack between the seats in front of them. “Are you going to the beach with us this afternoon?”

Caroline's heart sighed as the moment disintegrated. “Where?”

“The beach,” her daughter prompted. “You know, swimsuits, water, sand?”

The word
swimsuit
washed the last away like a bucket of ice water. Blaine hadn't seen her in unforgiving spandex. She could wear a T-shirt. After all, the tropical sun was vicious on skin like hers.

“I'm thinking about it,” Caroline answered truthfully. Although if this relationship were to go anywhere, her baby-stretched, middle-aged belly was part of the package. And, with the aid of sunscreen, she did enjoy the sun-bathed beach and the rush of ocean. Besides, it was what she came for, wasn't it?