Not with the risk of her getting pregnant with a man she knew, who would find out if she had a child.
They both turned to see Shannon and Victor walking back to their table, his hand on her arm and both of them smiling and out of breath.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Dylan said.
Avery felt a slight doubt in the back of her head. “I do.”
Chapter Twelve
“I know what you’re doing,” Shannon said once the two of them were down to their birthday suits and floating in the pool under the light of the moon. The sidewalks rolled up early in Tulum, and the party below was down to a few die-hards at the bar after the band had finished for the night.
Dylan and Erasmo said their good nights, and Victor bowed out shortly after.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t even try and pretend. Dancing with Victor, invites to dinner . . . I’m surprised you didn’t suggest he join us in the pool.”
Avery looked down at her reflection. “Good idea.”
Shannon splashed water at her friend. “He isn’t the right guy to sleep with.”
“I never suggested he is. But he is the right guy to flirt with.”
Which was exactly what she’d done all night. Avery’s words swam in Shannon’s head continually about the man’s attraction to her. Her hyperfocus on his actions made it hard to see anything but the soft brown of his eyes or the way they smiled when he laughed at how clumsy the two of them were while attempting to salsa dance. If she were honest with herself, and right now she was doing her best to lie, the man was slowly tugging on her inactive libido. Men had led her on and off the dance floors in social situations many times in the past few years . . . since Paul . . . but she hadn’t paid attention to how their palms molded into the small of her back, or how they lingered on her shoulder. Probably because those dances were obligations during her friends’ weddings or the occasional fundraising event where saying no would have proved awkward. Again, the people pleaser in Shannon would come out, and she’d dance with strangers she felt nothing toward.
Just thinking about Victor’s long fingers and laughing smile warmed her. He was different.
“Look at it this way,” Avery started. “Victor is safe, right? I mean, he just broke it off with his fiancée, and the chances of you really falling for the guy are pretty slim, right?”
Shannon instantly agreed. “He’s not the keeping kind.”
“Exactly. But he is a decent transitional guy. You haven’t put yourself out there in forever. And yet you somehow expected you’d be able to come here, pick up a stranger, have sex, and move on. C’mon, Shannon. You had to know you’d stutter a few times before your sexual engine starts to hum.”
Shannon lifted her chin, wanting to deny Avery’s claim. “I’ve been running low on fuel for a while.”
“Men like Victor are the gas station. Let him flirt. Flirt back. Enjoy his attention and learn to cut it off. Something I don’t think you’re all that practiced on. He’s on the rebound and can’t be looking for more than the same thing you are. Positive opposite sex attention.”
“I’m not sleeping with him.”
Avery was quiet.
“I’m not.”
“Fine. Don’t.”
“Avery. I’m as fertile as they come.” She’d taken her ovulation tests over the past few months and mapped out her best days to conceive.
“Condoms still work.”
“I know, but no. I’m not going there. If something happened and I did end up pregnant with Victor’s . . .” She shook her head, unable to let the image continue in her head. “That would be wrong for everyone.”
“Relax. No one is getting pregnant tonight. Enjoy the attention, Shannon. That’s all I’m suggesting. When was the last time someone looked at you the way he did tonight?”
His eyes did hold hers a lot.
“It’s been a long time.”
“The man was undressing you with his eyes every time he thought no one was looking.”
“That sounds sleazy.”
“If he was open about it and added a ‘hey baby, your place or mine,’ then yes. But he only looked when he didn’t realize anyone watched. Know the difference between him and the ‘your place or mine’ guy. That is the guy you were looking for this week. Mr. Temporary. Mr. Hot Attraction Baby Daddy Material. Not Mr. Jilted Groom Bleeding Heart Guy.”
“I don’t see a bleeding heart.”
Avery sighed. “Me either. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Consider Victor a practice run.”
Practice run . . .
She could do that.
If it made a difference, Victor looked away when Avery stepped out of the pool.
The heat of the day had disappeared with the sun, but the warmth of the Caribbean kept the evening temperatures well into the low eighties.
The only thing that would make the habit-forming ritual of watching Shannon skinny-dip better would be if he could eavesdrop on her conversation. She felt their attraction, even though she seemed to squirm away from it whenever he leaned in close. Avery was making it easy, pushing it, even.
He had to respect a friend who approved enough to create opportunities for him to seduce. Which was why he looked away when Avery stepped out of the pool.
The moon didn’t offer much in the way of light, but that didn’t stop him from finding his perch moments before the women slid into the water.
Avery wrapped herself in a hotel issue bathrobe and disappeared into the room. Shannon lingered outside. She toweled off outside and turned around. Victor was sure that would be the end of it.
She surprised him.
Shannon dropped the towel on one of the many chairs on the deck and walked straight to the edge of her balcony. Anyone walking on the beach would have seen her . . . all of her. He glanced down at the sand and felt some relief to see it deserted.
She, too, scanned the space before leaning her elbows on the balcony to display her curves against the silhouette of the sky.
Victor squirmed in his chair, the soft erection of knowing she was naked in the pool now pressed firmly against his cotton pants.
Light went on inside their room, and Victor saw Avery pacing with a phone to her ear. Shannon seemed to notice, too, and instead of going inside, she pulled a chair closer to the railing, sat, and perched her legs so she could lounge in the moonlight.
No wonder sailors wrote stories and songs of mermaids and sirens on the shore, calling their name.
Shannon was a goddess stretched out, nude, with her head tilted back. He imagined the smile on her face and strands of her hair falling above the curve of her breasts.
Much as he wanted to free his dick, he refrained and just enjoyed her image. He had no doubt he’d recall this moment in the not too distant future when his body needed release, but doing so now, with her right there, didn’t feel right.
Yeah, and making a sport out of watching her walk around naked when she didn’t know it was anything but right.
This was his little secret. One he planned to keep to his grave.
Victor stretched out, ignored his teenage dick, and committed Shannon’s moonlit curves to memory.
If Shannon hadn’t heard Avery in the bathroom first thing in the morning, regretting the drinking from the night before, she would have thought the woman was faking illness to push Victor into her day.
“I didn’t think I drank that much,” Avery said, crawling back into bed.
“We did have wine with dinner and martinis at the bar, after.”
“Mixing is always a bad idea.”
Shannon did the mom thing and placed the back of her hand on Avery’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”
“I’d rather be hungover than sick.”
She pushed off the side of the bed. “I’ll go get some toast from the restaurant.”
“Yeah, that might help. If you see Victor, give him my seat for the tour today.”
They had planned a private tour that included kayaking, snorkeling, and a dip in the cenotes.
“We can skip the sightseeing.”
“No, go. I’ll feel bad with you sitting around here all morning. I’m sure this will blow off by the afternoon.”
She wasn’t sure about inviting Victor out for the day.
“I’ll be able to rest if I don’t think I’m ruining your vacation.”
Shannon imagined she’d feel the same if it were her. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The waiter at the hotel restaurant smiled when he saw her and asked if she wanted the same table as the previous day. Seemed her routine of dining alone first thing in the morning was being noticed. She accepted the table and ordered coffee, fruit, and yogurt and watched for a familiar face.
If Victor didn’t show up, she’d take it as a sign to skip the tour.
On her second cup of coffee, after her breakfast was finished and she was waiting on the toast for Avery, Victor snuck up behind her as she was checking her e-mail.
“Working on vacation?” he said close to her ear.
She jumped.
“I swear, Victor. You’re going to get hit doing that.”
He grinned, unfazed. “Violence . . . that will be new for us.”
“Us? There is no us.”
He sat opposite her. “Was that breakfast?” he asked, looking at the remainder of the fruit platter.
“After last night, I’m surprised I could eat at all.”
He glanced around. “Where’s Avery?”
“Not feeling well. I think she’s coming down with something.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He looked sincere.
“Me too. We scheduled a tour today at nine thirty.” Shannon looked at her phone, checked the time.
“Where are you going?”
She told him where they’d planned on spending their day.
“You can always go without her.”
If she was going to ask him, now was the time. “I wouldn’t want to go alone. There are still single-female travel advisories for the area.”