“I’m just saying. I don’t know him. I don’t know where he’s been!”
“As in,” Sarah continued, “there is no hair down there for crabs to hang on to. I was reading online that the popularity of Brazilian waxing has led directly to the decline of pubic lice.”
“So, it’s not crabs you should be worrying about. If it starts burning when you pee, or—”
“If your vagina begins to shrivel up, then you should be worried.”
The two of them were unbelievable. I was having a real and seriously minor panic attack at the possibility of contracting a sexually transmitted disease and all they could do was joke.
“It’s not funny. My vagina will not shrivel up.” Just in case, I was going to have to check later.
“Well, not now, because you used it. For a while we were wondering if you’d started collecting cobwebs down there. I was actually thinking of purchasing a feather duster for you. I figured you could get off while you cleaned. But, if you’re really worried about shriveling or crabs, one of us could check for you. Sarah, did you bring a flashlight?”
“Har, har. Cobwebs? Really, Melody? Real mature.” I searched my bag for suntan lotion and remembered it was in my lap. “Whatever. I don’t think I’m having sex with him again.”
“You know what your problem is?”
“Enlighten me, Sarah.”
“You think too fucking much. Christ, the way you talk about it, you’d think he popped your fucking cherry. This isn’t forty-year-old virgin crap. You’ve had sex before.”
“True, but it was so…vanilla.” I rubbed lotion wherever I could reach.
“So you’re used to vanilla.” Melody shrugged her shoulders. “I’d be freaked out, too, if all I ever ate was vanilla then all of a sudden someone served up hot fudge, sprinkles, nuts, and cherries. Deal with it, doll. Ryan gave you the perfect sundae.”
“He really did, didn’t he?” Lying back, I closed my eyes and thought about him. I thought about his hands, his big hands, which had held me pinned against the wall. I thought about his mouth, the mouth that touched every inch of my skin, his tongue that explored me inside and out. Thank God we had that extra room and thank God I brought my vibrator. It looked like I was going to have to make my own luck.
“This is good, right?”
“What is good?” Sarah asked.
“This. This whole me being on my own thing. Never really did this before.”
“You are going to be great. Look, you have a wonderful set of parents, a brother who loves you. I think you were so dependent on the tight family unit you had that when you finally had the opportunity to spread your wings, you chose someone you thought would take care of you. Steven was that person. I don’t think he’s a bad guy, he’s just not good for you.”
“He is a bad guy,” Melody added.
“Mel—”
“No, I’m good. You’re right, this will be good.”
“There you go!”
I looked at my empty glass. “I don’t know about you, but I need a refill. Be right back.”
I left my friends basking in the Caribbean sun as I made my way to the bar.
I immediately regretted not slipping on my flip-flops. I hopped through the sand like an idiot, then tripped over a backpack and face-planted. My face full of sand, I rolled over on my back. Typical Caroline, I thought. With a belly full of rum punch, the world spun for a moment.
“Are you okay?”
Turning my head to the side, I looked for the source of the voice but the sun glare blocked my view.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
“I don’t think so.” The owner of the voice helped me to a sitting position. I took off my sunglasses and was face-to-face with dimples. Green eyes and dimples. And floppy sun-bleached hair. And bronze skin that rippled with athleticism. This wasn’t a gym jock. This guy was lean.
“Let me help you up.” The face of the voice came into view as it blocked the sun.
He placed his hands under my arms and lifted me to my feet. He must’ve thought I was insane. I couldn’t stop staring at his dimples. I was enthralled by the fact that he didn’t even have to smile to make them appear. I blamed the rum punch for what happened next.
I lifted my hand and poked a finger in his face. Right into the left dimple.
“You okay?”
I quickly pulled my hand back and felt the rise of embarrassment heat me from my toes to the top of my head.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” My stammering attempt at an apology left much to be desired. I had defiled his dimple. I’d never prayed for quicksand but in that moment, it felt like a good idea. “Thank you for helping me up. I’ll be going now.”
Quickly turning away, I nearly tripped over the same backpack.
“Wait!” Dimples called to me. “What’s your name?”
“Um, I really should be going. Sorry again!”
Somehow I was able to make my way to the cobblestone pathway without busting my ass again. I speed walked to the nearest bar and hopped up on a barstool. Thank God for all-inclusive.
“What can I getcha?” The bartender had the slightest hint of a Southern accent under his Jamaican accent that immediately led me to believe he wasn’t a local.
“Two things. First, Piña Colada, heavy on the booze. Second, the real deal on where you’re from.”
“You can tell, huh?” Mr. Not From Jamaica busied himself with pouring the drink ingredients into a blender.
“There’s a distinct twang underneath all that ‘hey mon’ you’re trying to pass off as real.”
“I guess I need to do better. I’m from Texas.”
“I knew it!”
“Don’t spread that around. I have an image to protect.”
That image was over six feet tall and dark skinned. He ran his hands over his bald head and smiled as he handed me my drink, two slices of pineapple and a purple umbrella garnishing it. I wanted to take my straw and drink him up.
“Name’s Wes but everyone around here calls me Marley.”
“Marley? Isn’t that a bit overkill? I mean, you don’t even have dreads.”
“My last name’s Marley.”
“Wes Marley?”
“Yes. Wes Marley, no relation. And who are you, or should I just call you Nosey?”
“Caroline. I’m here from New Jersey with my two friends.”
“Ahh. Escaping the winter blues?” Wes asked as he cleaned a few glasses and ran a rag over the bar counter.
“Escaping all right. Not the winter blues, though.” My straw sucked air as I finished the last of my drink. “That was fast.” I stared at my empty glass before pushing it back toward Wes.
“So what are you escaping, Caroline from New Jersey?” He poured me another.
“Life. The old me. An ex fiancé. Reality. You name it. I’m on the run from it.”
“Well, I’ve got nothing to do. Tell me about it.”
“I did a bad thing.” Yep. Rum punch and Piña Colada and no food since six in the morning? If I wasn’t hammered now, it wouldn’t take long to get there.
“You? You look like a nice lady.”
“I did!” I crooked my pointer finger, signaling him to get closer, and whispered, “I had a one night stand.”
The laugh that boomed out of him was sure to garner looks and interest from all the pretty people on the beach.
“Shhh. There is no need to laugh. I never did that before and now, I think I’m having, what do you call it?”
“Buyer’s remorse?” Wes replied with a smirk.
“Yes!” I snapped my fingers. “Thank you. Buyer’s remorse.”
“So what led you to this buyer’s remorse?”
Over the next three Piña Coladas I spilled my guts to Wes Marley, the no-relation, not-from-Jamaica bartender.
I’d just finished my story when I heard my name.
“Care! Where’ve you been?”
Melody and Sarah walked up to the bar.
<
br /> “Holy crap! Did you two fall asleep?”
“We took a little nap, why?”
“Pretty sure you’re sunburned.” I poked Sarah’s arm, the white fingerprint disappearing in seconds.
“No way. We used lotion. Besides, it doesn’t hurt.” The two of them hand-printed their stomachs.
“Caroline’s right. You two are gonna be hurting in a few hours. I suggest you get some aspirin and go back to your room.”
“Who’s this guy?” Mel gracefully sidled up to the bar.
“This is Wes Marley, no relation. He’s being my therapist. Let me get you two back to the room. Seriously.”
Sarah took off her sunglasses and Melody squealed.
“What?”
“Your face. You have definite sunglass lines. Do I?” Mel pulled off her ginormous, look-at-me sunglasses and Sarah’s eyes bugged out.
“Holy shit, Mel!”
“I don’t feel so good.” Melody wrapped her arms around her stomach.
“Hopefully you don’t have sun poisoning,” Wes offered.
“Sun poi—? No, Care. I want to go lie down.”
“On it.” I hopped off the barstool and turned to Wes. “Thanks for listening. Sorry if I was a downer.”
“No problem, mon!” He replied in his best Jamaican accent. “Anytime. Seriously. What’s your room number? I’ll send them an aloe lotion I made. It really helps out the white girls from the north.”
“White girls! Well, I never!” I playfully stomped my foot before leaving him the room number. I gingerly wrapped my arm around Melody, and Sarah followed as we walked back to our room.
Within minutes of arriving, I had them each take cool showers and dress in the loosest sundresses they packed. I knew, from experience, that the pain would take a bit of time but once it hit, they’d be toast.
Each downed a couple of aspirin and just as Wes promised, the lotion he’d concocted arrived at the room via housekeeping.
By the time I’d rubbed them down with the lotion, they were asleep, my buzz had almost worn off, and my stomach was rumbling.
I felt bad about leaving them but I figured there wasn’t much I could do for them while they slept, so I placed a bottle of water near each of them, took a shower, and left to get something to eat. I could have ordered in but I really wanted to escape the confines of the room. I didn’t travel all the way to Jamaica to coop myself up in a bedroom. I’d done enough of that in the past weeks.
Wearing a long green halter dress and flat strappy sandals, I felt like a million bucks. The salty air did wonders for my already curly hair and I had gotten just enough sun to kiss my skin with a faint tan.
I walked through the small-town-like atmosphere of the resort and watched, with a little pang of jealousy, as couples walked holding hands, kissing, sharing glasses of wine. It was what I’d always wanted. Someone to share the fun with, share romance with. Steven was always too busy for fun, too stuffy for romance. In the five years we were together, we’d been on only one vacation. If that’s what one would call it. We went to Vegas for a conference. Never hit the strip once.
I shook off the thoughts that were darkening my mood. No, I was there to relax, to get away, and to have some fun. I decided to sit at the small café that overlooked the beach.
The menu was simple: sandwiches, light pastas, and wines. Perfect. I ordered shrimp over linguine with a white wine sauce and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. The breeze off the water was intoxicating. After dinner, I decided I was going to sit at the water’s edge and relax. I wasn’t necessarily stressed but my life was turning in a direction it wasn’t a few months ago. This was my time to breathe.
I was halfway into my meal, breaking a piece of bread, when someone asked, “Is this seat taken?”
I looked up. Dimples. I was lucky I had another swallow of wine left in my glass because I was pretty sure I was going to choke on the large piece of bread that was stuck in my throat.
Dimples patted me on the back to quell the cough that erupted when he arrived. “We really need to stop meeting like this.”
“Hi.” I finally choked out.
“Hi.” He motioned toward the empty seat and I nodded for him to sit.
“I’m Jim.”
“Caroline.”
“Where you from, Caroline?” I had to remind myself not to get lost in his dimples.
“New Jersey.”
“New Jersey, huh?” And he gave me that look. The look everyone who isn’t from New Jersey gives those who are.
“And, no, I don’t know anyone named Snooki. And I’m not a mob wife or a member of the Soprano clan.”
“Hey, don’t get testy!” He laughed and held up his hands. “Your accent just sounded like you were from New York. Maybe they sound the same, I don’t know.”
“I do not have an accent! And if I do, I sure as hell don’t sound like I’m from New York.” I wanted to be mad, but barely leveled out at annoyed. His dimples were just too damn cute.
“You’re funny.” Jim took a long sip of his drink. “So what are you doing in Jamaica?”
“Skiing,” I replied flippantly. “You?”
“My brother’s getting married Wednesday night. I’m the best man.”
“So, Jim the best man, where are you from?”
“Originally? Kansas. But I go to school in Miami.”
“Kansas? Like Dorothy and Toto Kansas?”
“More like Clark Kent, but yeah. I’m a senior at Miami now.”
“College kid, eh?” I teased.
“Definitely not a kid. And who are you to talk?”
“I’m twenty-eight. My undergrad was a long time ago.” I poured another glass of wine, finishing off the bottle.
A wicked grin dashed across his face. “An older woman, huh? Looks like I sat at the right table.”
“Looks like you did, kiddo. But I really need to be getting back to my friends. See you around.” I gathered my purse and left Jim from Kansas at the table.
As I walked back to the room, I stopped at the small bar to thank Wes for the aloe.
“It was no problem.” He flashed a grin at me as he mixed a pink cocktail for a cougar at the end of the bar.
“I know, but it was really nice of you. Maybe I could repay you. Buy you a drink?”
“At an all-inclusive?”
“Right.” I glanced down at my feet. “Well, then, I’ll see you around. Maybe I can listen to your relationship problems or something.”
“Maybe, Caroline from New Jersey. I look forward to it.” Wes winked at me and I headed back to the room with thoughts of hot bartenders, sexy dimples, and one night stands swirling around in my head.
The next day was spent providing Sarah and Mel with lotion, aspirin, and more water than I thought any person could handle. Thankfully, the burns weren’t bad enough to blister, and it seemed as though Melody got the brunt of it. We left the room for the cover of tables with umbrellas and then some shopping at the two boutiques at the resort. I didn’t venture out much on my own other than to procure a few items from the convenience store.
By Wednesday, they were back in action, albeit covered up with newly purchased gauzy bathing suit covers, wide-brimmed straw hats, and sunglasses to cover the awful raccoon eyes on their faces. Thankfully, I hadn’t spent enough time in the sun to color much more than a soft base tan.
“What do you want to do tonight?” Melody asked from a tree-covered hammock.
“Dinner at the French place?” Sarah offered.
“As long as I don’t have to eat snails.”
“There’s much more to French food than snails!” I laughed as I sipped on the Dirty Banana Wes had made for me.
“Do we have to dress up?”
“I think so. No big deal. We leave in two days and you two have spent the last two in bed with sunburn. We’re getting dressed up.”
“Bossy! Fine, I’ll get dressed up. Can I at least wear my sunglasses?”
“Yes, you can wear your sunglasses.”
“Thank you. Can you get me one of those banana thingies you’re drinking?”
“Yup. Be right back.”
Keeping to the cobblestone path, I walked up to Wes’s bar and asked for three Dirty Bananas.
“Caroline from New Jersey!” Jim waved me over from a table. He was sitting with three other guys.
I grabbed the drinks, carefully balancing three between my hands, and walked over. “Jim from Kansas. Fancy meeting you here.”
“I didn’t see you around yesterday.”
“I was with my friends.” I pointed with both hands to the area where the girls sat and nodded. “They got really bad sunburn on Monday.”
“That sucks. What’re you doing later?”
“Probably just relaxing. Don’t you have that wedding tonight?”
“Yeah. This is my brother Tom and his two friends Alex and Joe.”
“Hi.”
“If you and your friends aren’t busy, maybe we could all meet up after.”
“Yeah, maybe. Well, good luck tonight. Congratulations. Nice to meet all of you.” I started walking away when Jim jumped up.
“Let me get that for you.” He took two of the drinks from my hands and walked over to the girls with me, handing each of them their drink.
“Well, Caroline, I’ll see you around.”
“Thank you. See you.”
Melody pulled her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose as she watched shirtless Jim walk away. “Who”—she paused dramatically—“was that?”
“That’s Jim from Kansas. He goes to the University of Miami and his brother is getting married tonight.”
“He’s a baby!” Sarah laughed.
“He’s hot!” Melody declared.
“He’s a child!” I countered.
“Who cares? He’s hot, seems to be available, and is totally into you.”
“Whatever.” The last thing on my mind was getting to know someone. I was not in the frame of mind to get to know anyone.
“I know exactly what you’re thinking, Care. You don’t want to get wrapped up in any nonsense. You feel like you have some sort of moral code that you’d like to keep intact, even if you busted through it the other night.” Sarah pushed a lock of hair out of my face. “What you don’t understand is that you don’t have to deal with nonsense. You don’t have to worry about breaking any rules. Do you know why?”
Operation One Night Stand Page 7