Read Online Undertow by Leigh Talbert Moore - Free Book Online Page B

was going to be the six of us—Billy and me, Bryant and Donna, Lexy and Suzanne. It was so odd Lexy didn’t have a man to take with her on trips like this. I’d been pretty self-absorbed, and looking back, I couldn’t remember her going on any dates since she’d been home.
    “You should try setting her up with one of your friends,” I said to Billy that night. I was lying in bed reading a book while he undressed.
    “Who?” He sounded confused as he positioned his slacks on the wooden hanger.
    “Lexy.”
    “You mean Alex?” He glanced up at me.
    “I’m sorry, but I cannot call her that.”
    Billy laughed. “So you’re wanting me to set her up with someone?”
    “It’s just not right that we’re all going on this great couples’ weekend, and she’s bringing a girlfriend.”
    “I think it’s great,” he winked. “More pretty ladies in bikinis.”
    “I’ve never seen this Suzanne,” I said, dropping my book. “What if she’s not pretty?”
    “I couldn’t care less. I only plan to look at you.” He walked over and flopped on the bed facing me.
    “You’re very sweet,” I smiled. “And a big fat liar.”
    He rolled onto his back, palms flat on his stomach. “You think I’m getting fat? I guess I don’t get out of the office much anymore. Not like when we were kids and we spent the whole summer slinging hay bales.”
    “Billy!” I laughed. “It’s an expression! You’re perfect, and I meant the only thing you’ll be looking at are high-rises and amenities.”
    “I’ll be checkin you out, too.” He rolled back on his side, facing me.
    “Ugh, well, don’t check too hard. We’re just coming off the holidays, and this trip was a surprise. I haven’t been to aerobics as much as I’d like.”
    “Maybe that’s why you’ve been feeling sad.” He reached out and caught my leg, sliding his hand down my calf.
    “I’m feeling sad because I want to have a baby.” I picked up my book again. He rolled onto his back once more.
    “Meg. Please.”
    “I know! You don’t want to talk about it.”
    “I was hoping this trip might be a little distraction from that. Have some fun, get your mind off things. Spend some time with your friend.”
    “And it’s a tax write-off.”
    “Not only that, I’m looking forward to spending time with Marco. I plan to pump him for all the information I can get.”
    “The owner? I’m sure he’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Everybody likes you.”
     
    Jan. 16, 19--
    Luxury accommodations are the only way to travel.
    Marco Dominguez was one of the owners of Tango Sol, and he put us all up in individual cabins shaped like tiki huts. They were gorgeous with dark wood floors and tall four-poster beds shrouded in mosquito netting and separated from the more traditional hotel accommodations by a series of paths that ran down the side of a hill covered in little waterfalls.
    The ceilings in the huts went up to points and had an open-air feel, but we never had a bug problem. I assumed there had to be some bug-proofing somewhere that I just couldn’t see. It was Mexico, after all.
    We also had our own porches overlooking the side of the hill and leading down to the beach, where the long expanse of sand was dotted with hammock-bound palm trees for relaxing in the cool sea breezes. It was absolutely beautiful and perfectly romantic.
    If I were to make one recommendation for change, though, it would be removing some of the waterfalls. They were everywhere. One big waterfall crossed the path that separated the swimming pool on the dining level from a smaller pool below. It flowed right over the path, and while it was pretty, the only way to cross it was by getting your feet wet and either ruining your shoes on the outside or taking them off and then getting your shoes all wet on the inside. Or running around barefoot, which was ridiculous. I had a pedicure to consider. I intended to recommend Billy not copy that idea.
    For breakfast I ate nothing but mango