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.”

He didn’t buy it. “You traveled here alone to begin with.”

“But that was work. I didn’t plan on leaving the hotel where people knew me until Avery arrived. I can try and reschedule for tomorrow . . . unless Avery is still under the weather.”

Victor sat back, a smirk on his lips. “If you want me to go with you, just ask.”

She opened her mouth, pretending surprise. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

“Really?”

She didn’t meet his eyes. “No. You probably have plans.”

“My plans slipped out the back door on Saturday, freeing up my life’s schedule.” He leaned forward, grabbed her bill, signed his name and room number, and stood. “Go get your bathing suit on. I’ll meet you out front in thirty minutes.”

He left without waiting for her reply.

“This is a bad idea,” she whispered to herself, right before she left to do exactly what he suggested.

Chapter Thirteen

Shannon wore large rimmed sunglasses, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a cover-up that hid her swimwear underneath.

Victor didn’t have much of a chance to say hello before he jumped in the back of the van in board shorts and a T-shirt. Something he hadn’t worn in years.

Shannon tensed at his side.

Leo, their private tour guide, drove them away from Tulum’s beach road and out onto the main highway. He explained the history of the area and the booming tourist trade that had popped up over the past dozen years. The more the twentysomething-year-old kid talked, the more relaxed Shannon became.

Thirty minutes into their drive, Shannon unfolded her crossed legs and tight arms. She asked Leo several questions as they moved toward their first destination.

“The government doesn’t help to provide electricity and water to the hotels where you’re staying,” Leo told them. “Each hotel has their own generator and drives in their drinking water.”

“That must be quite an expense,” Shannon said.

“Part of the bill you pay to visit, yes?” he asked.

“It isn’t cheap.”

Victor knew firsthand how much Shannon and Avery were spending for their deluxe accommodations. Lesser hotels and smaller rooms without views probably did cost less, but it still wasn’t a budget vacation, even though some might think anything in Mexico would be.

“Worth it, I hope,” Leo said. “We need all the tourists.”

“Is the cartel as bad as what our media tells us it is?” Shannon asked.

Leo glanced in the rearview mirror. “Every country has their problems.”

Translation: yes!

Victor glanced at Shannon. Maybe her line about female traveler alerts was a thing. Sometimes he forgot how great it was to own a Y chromosome.

Leo pulled off the main road and down a rutted dirt path surrounded by the rain forest. He stopped at a checkpoint and said something in Spanish to the man standing there.

“I have an arrangement to visit this part of the beach. All these homes are private. No hotels.”

They drove for about two miles. Shannon pointed out the homes to him, suggesting the ones she liked and those she didn’t.

Shannon could see that even though the road leading to the place wasn’t anywhere close to what you’d find in the States, the houses were for the wealthy. Various stages of construction were taking place, building materials piled up along the short driveways or monitored gates.

“I keep looking for the monkeys in the trees,” Shannon said, staring out the window.

“We have tours for that, too.”

“Trying to sell us on another day, Leo?” she teased.

“A man needs to make money.” He laughed.

“Let’s do today first.”

Leo pulled into a small clearing that looked like it could be a parking lot and cut the engine. “You have sunscreen on, right?”

Shannon nodded, looked at Victor.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Leo looked over his shoulder. “Americans always fry.”

Shannon dipped into her bag and removed suntan lotion. “Here.”

Becoming a lobster was probably not the best way to spend the rest of his time in Tulum.

They stepped out of the car, and Victor poured a generous portion of lotion into his palm. He yanked off his T-shirt and oiled up his chest, arms, legs, and what he could reach on his back.

Shannon watched him while Leo stepped toward the man with the kayaks and snorkel gear.

After making a few slapping motions on his flanks, Victor turned to her and smiled. “Would you mind getting my . . .” He turned his back to her and handed her the sunscreen.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned this,” she said before he felt her small palm slide over his shoulder blades.

He hadn’t planned any of it, but that didn’t make her touch any less inviting. There was nothing suggestive or sexual about it, but his mind didn’t seem to know that.

“I’d have planned it better,” he told her.

Her fingers ran to his lower back, right above the waistline of his swim shorts.

“How so?” she asked.

“I’d be lying down instead of standing on the side of a road.”

“If we were back at the hotel, I’d suggest you lie in the shade.”

He glanced over his shoulder, caught her staring at his back. “Not sure I buy that.”

She snapped her hand away, closed up the sunscreen, and handed it to him. “You might want to get your face. Skin cancer leaves holes after the doctor cuts it out.”

“See, you care.”

Shannon rolled her eyes and walked toward Leo.

Victor followed, laughing.

Shannon waited for the last second to shed her cover-up. Even though all the important parts were covered, she couldn’t help but feel naked when Victor looked at her.

In his defense, he did try to look away, but failed.

She didn’t spend any serious time at the gym, never really had to. The yoga studio she had a membership with saw her a couple of times a week, but she wouldn’t say she had one of those bodies. Still, Shannon knew she looked better than a lot of women wearing bikinis on the beach. She’d always thought of her body as long and willowy. Partly because she never grew out of a B cup bra. In her college years, she’d wanted more curves. But as she grew older, she embraced the body she’d been given and dressed to enhance what she had.

Like now . . . with her sun-kissed tan, her white bikini crisscrossed over her back, holding her breasts in place, while the adequate bottoms hid enough but showed off a lot.