Love & Marry (2 page)

He lowered his head, and she had feeling that she’d said the wrong thing.

“I’m a widower, Marry. My wife was killed in a car accident five years ago. That’s why I know better than anyone that there’s no time like the present.”

She could have crawled under the chaise lounge she was sitting on, but that still didn’t change the fact that she had no intentions of having a vacation romp with Dr. Love.

“I’m very sorry about that,” she said. “But I don’t do flings or have casual sex with men I hardly know.”

He narrowed his eyes, and she could have a sworn that a light blush colored his cheeks. “Okay,” he said. “That’s good to know, but I was only looking for a date to the pool party.”

She mentally slapped herself for behaving like a goof. Well, that was her
modus operandi
when it came to meeting men.
Which is why you’re still single
, she could hear her mother saying.

“I’m not going to be pushy,” he said. “But you might want to stay for the bacon-wrapped shrimp and piña coladas plus a great, local salsa band.”

She could eat her weight in bacon-wrapped shrimp. The chef salad she’d had on the plane had long since worn off.

“Don’t I need a name tag?” she asked, pointing to the one on his shirt.

“Be right back,” he said.

She grabbed her floral print cover-up that screamed
tourist
and pulled it over her head. She didn’t want to be clad in just her itsy bitsy yellow bikini when dozens of single men poured into the pool area. Before she could get her feet into her flip flops, Allen was back. He handed her the nametag along with a pen.

“Would I be too out-of-line if I wrote ‘Not interested’ under my name?” she asked.

He answered her with a crooked smile.

“So, why
aren’t
you interested in finding love, Marry?”

“Alright,” she said. “You’re a psychologist, so it’s time for the head-shrinking, right?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m just making conversation.”

Marry pulled the backing off the tag and slapped it onto her upper chest.

“My business has finally taken off in the past year. It seems like the only time I’m not working or thinking about work is when I’m sleeping. The last thing I need right now is a man to make me feel guilty that I’m not spending enough time with him.”

“It’s a wonder you took time for a vacation,” he said.

She probably wouldn’t have if the most recent wedding hadn’t been such a nightmare. She had kept looking for camera crews from
one of those T.V. shows about hateful brides.

“As I mentioned earlier, this vacation was a birthday gift from my mother. I wish I had known that she was sending me to a lonely hearts last resort.”

“Hmm, wonder why she did that?” he asked.

“Not because mother knows best,” she said. “She’s been married three times. My dad was husband number two.”

He rubbed his chin. “Is that so?”

“See, you’re starting already,” she said. “This is why I could never become involved with a psychiatrist.”

“Psychologist.”

“
Psychologist
, psychiatrist, psychoanalyst. It’s all the same.”

Allen shook his head. “Not entirely, and I wouldn’t dream of practicing on anyone who didn’t ask for my help. I
do
find it interesting that you have such an averse reaction to psychology.”

She sat up straight and looked out toward the ocean. “My mother’s third husband was our family counselor when her marriage to my dad was breaking up. Instead of helping her repair her marriage, he helped her out of it. So, yeah, I kind of have an aversion to your profession.”

He made a disturbed face. “That was unethical to say the least. How old were you when that happened?”

“Fourteen,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Oh, look, they’re setting up the bar. Can I get you a piña colada?”

He nodded and she walked over to the bar, hoping that he wouldn’t follow. Over the years, she’d learned to lock away her hurt and anger towards step-daddy dearest.
Why had one question from Dr. Love taken the lid off that cauldron of emotions
? While she was waiting for their drinks, he came up beside her and nudged her arm with a plate.

“As promised, bacon-wrapped shrimp along with stuffed mushroom caps,” he said.

Marry could resist the man, but she couldn’t resist the food. She was starving. She took the plate from him, collected her drink and returned to her lounge chair. The band began to play, and she tapped her foot to the quick, Latin beat.

“When you’ve finish eating, will you give me the honor of a dance?” he asked.

She laughed. “I shouldn’t admit this,” she said. “But if anyone had a video of me dancing, it could probably go viral on You Tube, and not in a good way. I have two left feet.”

He stretched out on the lounge chair next to hers and grinned. He had the type of smile that at one time could have melted her resolve, but she was older and wiser now.

“Salsa dancing is more about the hips than the feet,” he said. “And I have a feeling you can move those pretty well.”

She nearly swallowed a mushroom cap whole and had to take a huge gulp of her drink to wash it down.

“Ex-Excuse me? And just how did you come to that conclusion?” she asked.

“I watched you walk to the bar. You have very graceful movements. I’ll bet you would make a fine dancer if you gave yourself the chance.”

Little did he know
. Following five years of dance lessons and several embarrassing recitals, her mother had decreed that no more money would be wasted on that effort.

“It ain’t gonna happen,” she said.

He jumped to his feet and began dancing by himself—turning and swaying his hips to the tropical rhythm. He wasn’t the best dancer in the world, but she couldn’t help smiling at his attempt to impress her.

“Come on,” he said. “You know you want to join me.”

She giggled.
What was that
? Marry Markham was
not
a giggler. Either the heat of the late afternoon sun was getting to her, or she was getting a little buzz from her drink.

“It’s more fun watching you,” she said.

“Really?” He did quick turn on one foot, lost his balance and if she hadn’t moved out the way, he would have fallen on top of her.

“So graceful,” she said.

“I guess I didn’t mention that I’m a little out-of-practice,” he said.

Marry helped him back into his chair. “Why don’t you sit out the rest of dance? I think it’s safer for all concerned,” she said. “I’m going back to the buffet. Would you like something?”

“A couple of those mini-seafood kabobs would be nice.”

While she moved through the buffet line, Marry pretended not to notice the two men on either side of her. Both of them were giving her the once-over in way that left her uncomfortable. Neither of them interested her. The blonde guy on her left was too skinny and too tan. The guy on her right must have taken a bath in his cologne, and his hair was slicked back like a hood in an old gangster movie.
How was she going to survive a whole week in this place
?

The blonde guy squeezed in close to her, and darned if she didn’t feel his hand pressed against her lower back. At least, she hoped it was his hand. She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

“What the…?”

“Oh, excuse me,” she said. “You’re standing so close that I couldn’t help hitting you when I reached for the kabobs.”

The guy in front turned around.

“Need some help with those plates?” he asked.

“No. Thank you,” she said and made a hasty retreat back to Allen.

“In your seminars, perhaps you could give a few pointers in etiquette,” she said while handing him is plate.

He shook his head. “Probably wouldn’t do any good.” He sipped his drink and tasted the mango salsa she’d put on his plate. “So where do you live, Marry?”

“In an apartment complex.”

The silly and incredibly attractive little boy grin appeared on his face again. “Very funny, and where is the apartment complex?”

“Florida.”

“That’s interesting,” he said.

“How so?” she asked.

He leaned toward her, and she wanted to back away, but she didn’t. “My
Let’s Talk Relationships
spot airs on the morning news in three major Florida markets. I can’t believe you haven’t seen it.”

She ignored the urge to reprimand him for being narcissistic.

“I work fourteen hours a day. I don’t have much time to watch T.V,” she said.

He put his feet up and reclined on the chair. “What a shame.”

“Please. Let’s not cover that territory again,” she said.

He held up his hands in surrender. “I promise.” He popped a scallop into his mouth. “These hors d’oeuvres are
really
good. So what are your plans for dinner?”

Marry let out an audible sigh.
He’s
as subtle as a heat-seeking missile
. She’d always been attracted to men who were a little more reserved. Then again, she didn’t exactly have a passing grade when it came to romance—a broken engagement attested to it. She had no intention of adding Dr. Love to her list of failures. Her mother would never let her live it down.

“Since I haven’t even unpacked my suitcase,” she said. “I’ll probably order room service and eat-in. I’d venture down to the hotel restaurant, but the cologne tester and surfer dude over there might be waiting to pounce on me again.”

“I have a better idea,” he said. “Let me take you to Aquaviva—one of the best restaurants in San Juan—or at least it
was
the last time I ate there.” He paused and took his cell phone out of his shirt pocket. “Just say yes, and I’ll make the reservations.”

For a moment, she considered it, but she had a feeling that a dinner date with Dr. Love would be much more than just a date.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I think I’ll order room service and spend the evening catching up on my reading. You don’t know how long it’s been since I had time to relax and read a book.”

Allen nodded and put his cell phone back in his pocket. “Suit yourself, but please give me a rain check. You can’t leave Puerto Rico without going to Aquaviva.”

A busboy came by with a tray to collect their empties. “I think it’s time to head back to my room,” she said while standing and gathering her things.

“Before you go, let me recommend that you order room service from El Club de las Estrellas’ menu. That’s the casual dining lounge on the third floor. The food is better and cheaper than the La Luna Restaurante on the first floor.”

“Thanks for the advice,” she said. “How many times have you heard that in your line of work?”

Marry walked away, but she had a feeling that he was still watching her. She turned back to him. “It was nice talking with you,” she said. “And I didn’t mean to come off so harsh about psychologists. I’m sure you’re a good one.”

Allen’s smile spread across his face. “No doubt, we’ll see each other again,” he said.

* * *

Brightness pierced Marry’s eyelids. She rolled over and groaned. The sun had risen over the horizon and flooded her room with morning light.

Oh, crap
, she thought.
I forgot to close the drapes last night. No wonder they call this room
La Sala del Sol. She sat up and stretched. Even as she’d been rudely awakened, she felt more refreshed than she had in months. Her eyes locked on the clock.
Eight a.m
. She’d gone through her brochures the night before and decided to visit the Caguas Botanical Garden. She had plenty of time for coffee and breakfast before catching the bus in front of the hotel at ten.

Marry willed herself to leave the big, comfy bed and start a pot of coffee brewing. She picked up the phone and ordered a breakfast of sausage and eggs from the restaurant. At home, her breakfast was usually a microwave pastry or cereal, but what the heck? She was on vacation. She went to the closet and picked out her outfit for the day—a light blue cotton shirt and khaki capri pants. After taking a quick shower, she dressed before her breakfast arrived.

A young man in crisp uniform handed her the covered tray. She signed the check and handed him some bills from her purse. Rather than eat in the room, she decided to eat on the balcony. The aroma of the hotel’s gourmet coffee smelled wonderful, and she poured a cup before taking her breakfast outside. While she ate, she watched the boats coming and going from the marina. A beautiful sleek, modern yacht was anchored just off shore, and a smaller boat had ferried someone out to it.

She picked up the ceramic mug emblazoned with the hotel logo and stood up, leaning against the balcony railing. Hotel workers were cleaning the pools and straightening the lounge chairs. After leaving the party the night before she had sat on her balcony, listening to the band and watching the party-goers. She had seen Dr. Love mingling briefly with each guest but never spending too much time with any one in particular. It shouldn’t have mattered to her, but for some reason, it did.

Glancing at her watch, she regretted that she only had a few minutes more to enjoy the coffee and the scenery, but she didn’t want to miss her bus. She bent down to pick up her breakfast tray and nearly dropped it when she heard
his
voice.

“Beautiful morning to have breakfast outside, isn’t it?” he asked.

Marry turned to see Allen leaning over the railing of the room next door to hers.
The feet she’d seen propped on the railing the day before belonged to the radio shrink
?
What were the odds
?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. “This hotel has hundreds of rooms, and yours is next to mine.”

He grinned. With sleep-tousled hair and wearing only a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, he looked even more handsome than he had the day before.

“Just lucky I guess,” he said.

“Well, this is all very nice,” she said. “But I have a bus to catch.”

“Where to?”

“The botanical garden at Caguas,” she said. “I thought it would be a nice place to spend the day where I wouldn’t have to worry about horny single men hitting on me.”