“Coming right up,” he promised. Fortune was smiling on them, because as they approached a couple climbed down from a pair of stools at the long bar. Ryan offered his hand to steady Juanita as she hopped onto one, then claimed the other.
They acquired a menu and studied it while a bartender brought their drinks. The day had gotten hot enough that Ryan ordered his margarita frozen. The tart lime slush was nicely refreshing. Juanita slurped several gulps of her strawberry daiquiri before slowing to a more moderate pace. She sighed, her tense shoulders relaxing. “Ah, that’s good.”
He’d have to trust her to know how much alcohol would relax her without making her careless. He’d better limit himself to one drink if he didn’t want to risk committing some slip himself.
They ordered some street tacos and a quesadilla to share. While they were waiting for the food to arrive, Ryan took the opportunity to tackle a subject he’d been avoiding, but which needed to be discussed before they got on the ship. “Carmen told you we’ll be sharing a room, right?”
Juanita took a drink before answering. “Yes. We both agreed that would make our cover more convincing.”
Ryan nodded, relieved. “It’s actually not a big deal. There’s a couch that gets turned into a bed whenever more than two people are sharing a room, so it’s reasonably comfortable. Carmen let me have a blanket and a couple of pillows from the bed. We can’t forget to put them back every morning before our room gets cleaned, but other than that we should be fine.”
“Good.” He couldn’t read her expression, but she seemed to accept the arrangement. At least, she wasn’t protesting.
“Any time you want privacy, just let me know, and I’ll leave the room. I might ask you to do the same sometime.” He didn’t foresee any reason he’d need to, but she’d be more comfortable making the request if she knew the arrangement was reciprocal.
“Okay.”
“I hope you know you can trust me not to take any inappropriate liberties. I’m in this to help you, not because I want anything out of it for myself.” He held her gaze for a moment to let her know he was serious, then grinned to lighten the mood. “Besides, your sister would kick my butt if I tried.”
“After I took my turn.” Juanita grinned back. “I know you won’t. But thank you for saying it.”
“No problem.” Ryan took a swig of his margarita. “However, while we’re being strictly platonic roommates in private, the more lovey-dovey we can act in public, the better.” He made a comically moony face and batted his eyelashes at her.
She giggled, as he’d intended. “What do we say when people ask how we met?”
“Carmen and I decided that the closer we stick to the truth, the better. So we just switched your names. Your sister Juanita works at my company and introduced us. It’s been a whirlwind romance. Our feelings are spilling out all over the place, and we’re too infatuated to care.”
She laughed again, louder. “I like it. Although I’m not as good an actress as Carmen is.”
“And I’m not an actor at all, but so far it hasn’t been hard. Just lots of adoring looks and occasional kisses when we think no one is looking. Although of course we make sure they are.”
He looked around with exaggerated care, then leaned toward her. She entered into the spirit of the deception, glancing back and forth warily before leaning to meet him. He touched her lips lightly, then straightened. “Like that.”
“Easy,” she said, and glanced away.
Was that a trace of breathlessness in her voice? Ryan hoped his own words hadn’t betrayed the way his heart had accelerated.
He hadn’t expected the kiss to affect him. The ones he’d feigned with Carmen hadn’t. Why should her sister be different, especially when they’d barely met? But it had. He had to resist the urge to lean forward and sample the warm, soft liveliness of her lips again. If he suggested they take the opportunity to practice a little more, would she acquiesce?
He banished the thought. It would be despicable to take advantage of her that way. He was here to help her, not seduce her. If he couldn’t trust himself to control any desire their deception might provoke, he’d better tell her they needed to come up with a different cover right now. It wouldn’t be too hard to fake a loud and dramatic argument that would explain them taking pains to avoid each other for the remainder of the cruise.
She sipped her daiquiri and turned back. “So, what else do we do? Just hang out together and enjoy the ship?”
“Exactly.” There was no need to deviate from the script he and Carmen had agreed on. He’d hate to miss out on Juanita’s company if he didn’t have to. “It probably would be fine to get off the ship in the other two ports, but every time someone looks at your ID is a chance for them to notice something wrong. So we won’t risk it. Lots of people prefer to stay on board, so no one will think it’s strange if we do.”
“Makes sense.”
Just then their food arrived. For a while they were both too busy digging in to talk. The perfectly spiced meat and fresh handmade tortillas made it clear why the restaurant was so popular. Ryan was glad they’d ordered plenty, because Juanita ate as if she hadn’t had a decent meal since she arrived in Mexico. He wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t.
They finished and Ryan paid, adding a generous tip. Juanita looked a great deal more relaxed, he was happy to note. Little wonder she’d been so jumpy, if she’d been starving.
They worked their way down the street, stopping to wander through any store that caught their fancy. Ryan found gifts for each member of his family, and Juanita picked out a string of onyx rosary beads for her mother. When they reached the pier, they made their way through the extensive outdoor mall that lined both sides of the road. An escalator carried them to the second story, where a walkway lined with shops crossed the road.
Ryan stopped at a booth displaying a rainbow array of brightly colored woven bracelets, each with a name in a contrasting color. Behind the counter a man worked with deft fingers, wrapping vivid nylon threads around a plastic core. “Look, you can get them custom made. My nephew would love one. His name is Jameson. He likes it, but he hates never being able to find it on those racks of keychains or pens at gas stations.” After a quick word, the proprietor went to work on a bracelet in Jameson’s school colors of green and yellow.
“They’re so pretty,” Juanita mused, fingering one in pearlescent white and deep rose.
“Would you like one?” Without waiting for her reply, he turned back to the owner. “One in those colors, too, please, that says—” He caught himself just in time. “—Carmen.”
At Juanita’s wistful sigh, he added, “And let’s get another one like it for your sister. Juanita,” he told the man.
When all three bracelets were finished, along with one in Astros blue and orange for him, Ryan and Juanita continued toward the pier. It was still early, but Ryan didn’t want to wait too long to board. It would be best to get it over with before the last-minute crowds made everyone testy and impatient.
Juanita’s steps slowed as they neared the place where two Mexican customs officials were standing by a folding table at the end of a roped-off lane, checking packages and IDs. She reached for Ryan’s hand and clutched it, her fingers squeezing so hard they cut off his circulation.
“It’s all right,” he muttered under his breath. But she didn’t relax. If anything, her grip tightened.
A glance at her ashen face told him they’d better pause and regroup. He pointed to where a small crowd had gathered around a painted backdrop flanked by potted palms. “Hey, look. That woman has parrots. Let’s go take pictures.”
For a fee, the woman set a parrot on Juanita’s shoulder and another on her forearm, while Ryan shot lots of pictures with his phone. They swapped places, and Juanita got some good pictures of one of the parrots nipping his ear. Then the woman insisted they pose together, each with a parrot on their arm, while she wielded their phones.
The red and blue bird on Ryan’s wrist opened its beak. “Beso,�
�� it croaked.
“What’s that mean?” he asked suspiciously. “Blood? It wants more of mine, I bet.”
Juanita chuckled. “No, silly. It means kiss.” She lifted her face.
“Beso! Beso!” the parrot repeated. The spectators added their enthusiastic encouragement. Ryan surrendered to the inevitable and bent to kiss her.
He meant it to be another quick peck, but her lips were so soft and inviting he couldn’t bear to pull away immediately. Neither did Juanita. She leaned into him. He couldn’t put his arm around her without disturbing the parrots, but he pressed closer, moving his lips, just a little. Just a light, gentle exploration. Juanita’s moved against his, taut and pliant and eager. They parted, her breath sweet and warm against his mouth, and he opened—
Ryan jerked away. The crowd’s noisy cheers turned to disappointed protest. Juanita stared at him, panting.
He forced himself to smile at her, then turned to the spectators with a shrug. “Sorry, folks. Show’s over.”
They jeered good-naturedly. The woman smirked as she transferred the parrots to their perch and handed their phones back. Ryan’s face was so hot he was sure it must be bright red, but he feigned nonchalance as best he could while passing her a tip.
“Gracias, señor,” she told him.
“De nada,” he answered, grabbed Juanita’s hand, and towed her away.
CHAPTER 4
J uanita was so busy thinking about the way Ryan’s lips had felt on hers, while studiously avoiding looking at him, that she almost didn’t notice that he’d steered her around the square of shops and they were once again headed toward the customs checkpoint. But when she turned hastily away from him as he paused to examine a jewelry store window, she glimpsed the two uniformed officials ahead. One was rummaging through a bag on the table. The other scowled down at a card in his hand, then lifted his head to glower at the woman in front of him.
His cold expression brought it all rushing back. She stepped backward, bumping into the person behind her. He made an annoyed comment and shoved past. Juanita barely heard. Her heart pounded. Her throat was so dry she couldn’t swallow. Nausea churned in her stomach. What had ever made her think she’d be able to do this? When Carmen had described this part of her plan, Juanita had known she’d be scared, but she’d never imagined she’d be nearly paralyzed by terror.
It wasn’t too late to return to the hotel and swap back. This time she’d make Carmen listen. Ryan, too. She wouldn’t let them railroad her again. Neither of them understood what they were asking her to do.
A tender touch stroked her cheek. She leaned into it instinctively, craving comfort. His voice soft in her ear, Ryan asked, “Would you like to watch for a while before we go through? We can sit on that bench over there. You’ll have a good view. You can see for yourself how easy it is. We won’t get in line until you’re ready.”
She didn’t know if his plan would help, or if it would just make things worse. “Maybe. But not yet.” She scanned their surroundings desperately, seeking any excuse to delay. Her gaze fell on a booth a few hundred feet away down an intersecting row of shops. “Look!” She tried to make her voice bright and enthusiastic, with only limited success. “They’ve got those fish that eat the dead skin off your feet. I’ve wanted to try that since the first time I heard about it. Aren’t they illegal in the United States now?”
“I have no idea.” Ryan made a face. “That sounds disgusting. Are you serious?”
“Of course.” Juanita remembered watching a news report about the practice, one summer while she was home from college. She really had been intrigued by the idea, though Carmen and her mother had been just as grossed out as Ryan was. She tugged at his hand. “Come on. Let’s see how much they’re charging. Please?”
Ryan looked deeply skeptical, but yielded to her pull. Juanita dragged him over to the booth. Several wide, low tanks held swarms of tiny brown fish. People sat on benches with their feet dangling in the water. The fish mobbed their heels and toes, mouths nibbling, tails waving.
Juanita scanned the posted prices. “There’s a discount for two. Do it with me, please?”
“You’ve got to be crazy.” Ryan stared at the fish in horrified fascination.
“It’s perfectly fine.” Juanita pointed to a poster with pictures and text, scanning the explanations. “It says they’re native to the limestone caves around here. They won’t hurt you, because they don’t eat living skin, only the dead bits that flake off. It’s the perfect pedicure.”
Ryan wrinkled his nose. “Go ahead if you want to. I’ll skip it.”
Juanita’s shoulders drooped. “Never mind. I won’t ask you to pay for me if you’re not going to do it, too.” The interest that had momentarily distracted her from the waiting ordeal waned, and the sick feeling in her stomach returned.
Ryan hesitated. Then he put an arm around her shoulders. Quietly he said, “Tell you what. Even though I don’t like the idea, I’m willing to give it a try. But in exchange, I want you to agree to try the thing that frightens you.”
She pulled away, though not far enough to dislodge his arm, and glared at him. “That’s not exactly a fair trade.”
“Are you sure? Those fish have got me pretty freaked out.” He shuddered. “I can’t shake the suspicion that they’re going to keep gnawing away with those sharp little teeth until I pull two bloody stumps out of the water.”
Juanita didn’t know if he was joking or not. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Not to me.” Ryan winced. “Also, I’m very ticklish.”
Now she was pretty sure he was kidding. But she really did want to give it a try. And she wanted Ryan to do it with her. He’d keep her entertained while the fish did their thing. He’d see it wasn’t as gross as he thought. And it would give her at least fifteen minutes before she had to face the checkpoint again. “All right.”
“Are you sure? I’m going to hold you to it.”
Juanita glanced over her shoulder. She couldn’t see the officials from here, but the end of the line of waiting people extended around the corner. None of them looked anxious, only bored and impatient. She took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
He broke into a wide grin that made her feel as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud. “Then let’s feed the fish.”
While Juanita spoke to the attendant, Ryan sat on one of the benches, took off his shoes, and rolled up his slacks. Juanita perched on the bench opposite, tucked her sundress around her thighs, and slid her sandals off. She’d neglected her grooming since the deportation. But at least she’d located a cheap bottle of nail polish remover at the store and gotten rid of the chipped remains of her last pedicure. And her toenails were still a reasonable length.
His feet were narrow and high-arched, with long toes and neatly trimmed nails. His lower legs had a light dusting of hair, a shade darker than that on his head. He poised his feet over the water, wiggling his toes. “I suppose you won’t let me change my mind and back out of this, will you?”
“No way.” He was going to hold her to her end of the bargain, so she’d darn well hold him to his. “On three.”
He scrunched his face, but joined her in counting. “One, two… three.”
Juanita plunged her feet into the cool water, in unison with Ryan. The fish scattered. He swished his legs gently. “Maybe they’ll stay away. I probably taste bad.”
“Hold still.” Juanita followed her own admonition. The fish ventured back. One nibbled her heel, another her big toe. Their touch was light and swift. Soon hundreds of fish clustered around Juanita’s feet, bumping into her like tiny tapping fingers.
Ryan muffled a snort as the fish found him. She glanced up to find his lips pressed together and his eyes squeezed closed. “Damn, that tickles,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
“You’ll get used to it.” The sensation was kind of ticklish, but nothing Juanita couldn’t handle. “It’s easier if you don’t focus on it. Talk to me so you’ll be distracted. Tell me more abou
t the ship. What’s its name? What will we do after we get on?”
He didn’t open his eyes, but he answered readily. “It’s the Festival Zephyr. I thought we could go to our room and get you settled in. Then we can walk around for a while. I’ll give you the tour so you know where things are. Then it will be time for dinner. I’m looking forward to eating in the dining room tonight. Carmen and I stuck to the buffet on the Lido deck because we didn’t want anyone to get too familiar with her, but now that it’s you, it will be fine to get acquainted with the other people assigned to our table.”
“If you think that’s a good idea.” The thought intimidated Juanita, but she wasn’t going to let him see that.
“I do. Then we can go to the show in the theater. They’ve got some really talented singers and dancers on this sailing. It’s not Broadway, but the two shows I’ve seen so far were good. After it’s over we can hang out in the comedy club or the piano bar or the karaoke lounge. Or go dancing at the nightclub. Or watch the movie they show on a big screen over the pool. You don’t have to worry about getting bored, I promise.”
“Sounds fun.” It did, actually. She would enjoy any of the activities he’d described. At least, she would with him to keep her company. If she’d managed to persuade Carmen not to get anyone else involved, she would have holed up in her room and not come out until they were back in Galveston.
Who was she kidding? If she were alone, she’d never make it onto the ship. While with Ryan, she just might. He wasn’t going to give up until he’d teased or cajoled or strong-armed her past the checkpoint.
She watched the fish for a moment, then looked back up at him. This time he had his eyes open, regarding her thoughtfully. “You’ve never been on a cruise before?” he asked.
“I never dared.” She waved vaguely toward the checkpoint. “Even after DACA let me get a legal driver’s license, I wasn’t about to risk leaving the country. And of course, my mother and father couldn’t, either. They saved up and took us to Walt Disney World one summer, though. I was eleven. It was amazing.” She grinned, remembering. “I rode Space Mountain ten times in a row.”
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