Anonymity (2 page)

"No." He turned his back to the bar and pointed north. "I went further up toward what they call Mexican Rocks. The day started out with smooth water, but I stayed too long
." He reached for a dry-bag, commonly used by scuba divers to keep their belongings safe in the water. He pulled out a salt-encrusted narrow box that looked as if it had seen better days. "I started out snorkeling, but did some free-diving. I found this. Open it."

She took the metal box, turned it over in her hands, noticed the scratch marks on the sides where he'd pried it open, and lifted the lid with curiosity. Inside were what appeared to be hand-made beaded jewelry, mostly in good condition.
Bright blues mixed with softer hues stitched along leather bands.

"You found a treasure." She smiled and poked at the bracelets with her finger.

"Yeah, it looks like someone lost their work." He scooted one stool closer and nodded at the beads still in their baggie. "I imagine a woman went out fishing with her husband or boyfriend or brother or something and her work went overboard. You see a lot of those types of necklaces and bracelets for sale in town."

She laughed at the story he'd created based on the contents of the found box. Most likely true, though.
She closed the lid and handed it to him, but he shook his head.

"You keep it. What am I going to do with a bunch of bracelets?" He met her gaze, his smile contagious.

"You're giving me your loot?" She swayed closer, as if pulled by a magnetic force.

"I told myself I'd give it to the prettiest woman on the island."

"What a pick-up line. Did you really find these free-diving out there?" She leaned back and gladly accepted the refill Rosie pushed in her direction.

"So suspicious. I'm hurt." He clutched his chest in mock pain.

"What else did you find?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He reached for his beer, his smile wide.

Damn, he was too good to be true. Humor, hot body, killer smile, and take-me-to-bed blue eyes were a deadly combination in her book. She ripped her gaze from his and focused on the drink in her hand. She probably should have asked more questions about Rosie's special ingredients.

"She's here alone," Rosie stated in her matter-of-fact way.

She winced at the word 'alone.' Traveling here solo for the New Year had been her idea, hadn't it? She didn't want to be the one who stayed in Denver and pretended to take the high road. And she was damn sick of everyone she knew pointing out her single status.

"Why is it that everyone who is in couple mode tries to make those of us who aren't feel like we're
flawed?" Luke asked.

"
Yeah, I love the sympathetic tones in their voices as if we're to be pitied."

"We can do whatever we want, when we want. Look at us...sitting in a bar in paradise, doing exactly as we please."

She slid her gaze toward his. What she pleased to do involved ripping his wet t-shirt in two and screwing him blind. It had been a long time since she'd done anything wild and carefree. Being a thousand miles away from home coupled with Rosie's special ingredients ignited a daring in her that had long been dormant.

"What is it that you like to do with all your freedom?" she asked.

He squinted and caught his lower lip between his teeth. "Whatever comes up."

"So you're a live in the moment kind of guy?"

"I am today." His wink made her laugh.

What am I doing? I don't flirt, don't pick up men in bars, don't travel alone to places I've never been.
She smiled against the rim of the glass.
New year, new me.

"Hey, Rosie, the love of your life has arrived!"
A man driving a golf cart loaded down with strapped musical equipment called out as he parked on the sand.

"Dave the
Gringo. He's a one-man band. You'll see him all over the place at all times of day," Luke said when he noticed where her attention had gone. "He comes here every Friday night."

"How long have you been here?"

"A week." He watched Dave the Gringo unstrap a keyboard. "Things are pretty routine on the island. Dave's here on Fridays, up at Captain Morgan's tomorrow, and out to Sanctuary on Sunday. Ramon's has its beach barbecue on Tuesdays. It doesn't take long to figure out how the island works." He turned his gaze on her. "Have you been here before?"

She shook her head 'no', all thoughts evaporating at eye contact.
Blame it on the sun, the rum, exhaustion, or delirium, but she could definitely see going out of her comfort zone with Luke the Kayaker.

"I'm not much of a traveler...well, I mean, I want to be one, but my ex never liked leaving the country and I sort of shelved my ideas." She hated admitting her sac
rifices that now seemed so aggravating. Scott hadn't liked to do much of anything unless it had first been his idea. From what she'd heard, he and his bride were headed to the Bahamas for their honeymoon. So much for his not wanting to deal with a passport and foreign countries. She chewed a piece of ice, resenting the thought for intruding on her flirtation.

"But here you are, doing your own thing, hanging out with Rosie and me. Good for you." He lifted his glass in a toast, his smile softening with understanding. "Even the best of us make too many compromises
for the sake of a relationship."

"But the best relationships don't make you
compromise who you really are or what you truly want."

"Small talk really isn't your specialty, is it?
That's okay. It's usually easier to talk to strangers, especially at a bar." He laughed while nodding in agreement. "My ex—the one who's expecting her first child—didn't like my family. My brothers and I all live in the same area, all within driving distance, and we get together a lot. Their wives don't mind, in fact, I think they actually enjoy all of us hanging out, traveling together, and helping each other. Balance is key, I know, but I couldn't choose between her or my family. I wanted them to mesh...but that was that."

"You shouldn't have needed to choose." She studied the way his finger traced the rim of his glass. As an artist, she noticed details. With Luke,
his quick laughter, vivid blue eyes, and strong hands captured her interest. She'd sketch him later when she was alone.

"And you shouldn't have needed to hold yourself back. It's why we're single. Maybe that's a good thing," he said, his gaze sliding over her
legs where the sarong had slid open.

"Better to be single than with the wrong person." She echoed what Rosie had said minutes earlier.

He turned, stretched a leg in her direction over the tops of the two stools separating them, and perched his beer on his thigh. His gaze roamed over her, too, with an equal amount of curiosity and desire.

"So are you anti-man or just anti-love? Don't let one jerk ruin the chances for the rest of us."
With his smile came the dangerous dimples.

"Are you flirting with me?" The idea
intrigued her. She looked into his blue eyes, felt the warmth of alcohol rushing through her veins, and swayed forward on her stool.

"I don't flirt.
I socialize."

"Liar. I think you've been down here flirting for
a week," she said, her words more slurred than she'd like as she tried to channel the sophisticated woman she pretended to be back home.  She propped her elbow on the counter, stretched her legs next to his, crossed her ankles, and stared into his eyes. "I think this is what you do...pick up drunk women in the bar and give them treasures you find while free-diving."

Whatever Rosie put in that drink
gave her courage.

His
knuckles skimmed across her ankle. "You'd be wrong, way off the mark."

Awareness shivered across her skin with the barely-there caress
. She shifted on the stool, uncomfortable under his scrutiny, certain he knew the affect he had on her. Losing control wasn't her style, neither was flirting with strangers; yet she had an overwhelming desire to knock the stools over, peel his swim trunks down, crawl onto his lap, and screw him against the bar.

She pressed her hand to her forehead. Maybe she was sick. Lust wasn't in her vocabulary.
At age thirty-one, she'd never had a one-night stand. There were simply things she didn't do...and suddenly she wanted to do all of them with Luke the Kayaker.

"I'd better take a nap," she muttered more to herself than him.

"You don't want to go yet."

"It's not a question of want, but of necessity. I think I
need
a nap." She grinned against the rim of the glass and met his gaze. Damn, the man had gorgeous eyes. "Why does Rosie say you're anti-woman?"

"Oh, I'm not anti-woman at all, not by any stretch of the imagination. She's confused because my brothers like to tease me about being the only single one and they kept trying to fix me up while they were here.
They failed." He shrugged, not looking away from her. "They're gone now, though."

She bit her lower lip and indulged in gazing over the muscles of his chest barely concealed by the damp shirt. It would be easy to keep drinking and let the attraction get the best of her.

His fingers traced lazy circles against the top of her foot. "Let's meet back here in an hour and go to dinner. I'll show you the town of San Pedro. I know all the best places."

"You work fast."

"You're the one who brought up exes before even saying hello."

"Rosie did, not me." She watched his fingers make lazy circles on her skin.

"C'mon...you're alone, I'm alone, what's the harm in having dinner together? We can do whatever we want to do when we want to do it with whomever we choose, right?"

"Wild and free, that's us," she said.

She slid a fingertip over the rim of her glass without looking away. Tempting proposition. Her options were staying here, dining alone, probably getting sick from drinking too much and definitely over-thinking every damn thing...or she could go out with Mr. Sexy Eyes and Dimples and have some fun.

"One condition." She dared touch his foot as he touched hers, liked seeing his eyes narrow in response, enjoyed watching him swallow hard. "I'm a little drunk, I admit that, and probably will stay that way for the next
week. I don't know you, and you don't know me. No need to share our deepest and darkest secrets. No last names, no following each other's Instagram, no strings or expectations."

"It's only dinner and a town tour." His smile widened, showing off his dimples again. "
Alyssa Anonymous...I like it. Deal. Any other stipulations for this date?"

Date.
Her smile faltered but caution kept her in the stool with her fingers caressing his ankle. "Fun, that's it. Easy, uncomplicated fun."

He laughed and squeezed her foot. "I can handle that. Fun, no last names, just two people enjoying the island and a lot of rum."

She liked looking at him, not only because of those blue eyes and dimples. With his hair stiff from saltwater and skin flushed from the sun, he oozed ease and approachability.

"I'd like to enjoy more than that," she whispered, her filter long gone.

His eyes darkened to a deep blue. "I get it...your ex is getting married in four days so you're on a mission, aren't you?"

"He has nothing to do with this."
She looked away from him, annoyed that he'd brought up a sore subject. Crash. Burn. Damn.

"I'm happy to be part of your mission, don't misunderstand. New Year's Eve is a big deal for most people, new beginnings, clean slate, and all of that."

"Nevermind. I lost my head for a minute. My offer is off the table." She moved her leg away from his touch, a confusing storm of emotions whirling through her mind. "Forget it."

"No way I'm forgetting it." He motioned to Rosie for another beer. "Don't worry. I'm doing the same thing, reevaluating things. It's what people do this time of year. I'm going to be thirty-five in a few months and...Anyway, all I meant to say is that a new year pushes people to try new things." He sighed. "I should stop talking. Can we go back to where we were flirting a few minutes ago? I liked that part."

She smiled without looking at him. "Are you suggesting that we be each other's new thing to try for the New Year?"

He laughed. "That sounds so...I can't find the word."

"Shallow?"

"Sometimes shallow is a relief."

She looked him in the eye and sighed. Yeah, all the things she thought about doing with him would definitely relieve tension and distract her from the complications of home.

"
Luke! We thought we'd lost you," a brunette who looked like she'd stepped out of Victoria's Secret active wear section appeared out of nowhere. She slipped her arm around Luke's shoulders in a light hug before claiming the stool next to him.

"
Why would you be looking for me?" His gaze snapped to Alyssa's.

She dropped her hand from his foot and finished her drink.
So much for a brief indulgence in fantasy. Had she actually just asked a total stranger for a vacation hook up? My God. She'd lost her mind somewhere between Denver and Belize, no question about it. She finished her drink and met Rosie's gaze.