Maybe this distance between them, both figuratively and literally, was better for her, but he hated it. Taking a vacation hadn’t been the solution he thought it was going to be. Instead, they needed to be locked in a room where she’d be allowed to take potshots at him until there wasn’t any anger left. Maybe Catalina would finally listen. Perhaps then she might allow him to rip off that damn white bikini and let him take her until both of them were wrung out.
Trey panicked when she strolled to the same cabana bar as him. He didn’t have any sort of cover, fearful she’d discover him spying, and he shifted a nearby floral arrangement in front of him. Except thefew sprigs of fuchsia orchids wouldn’t hide a child, let alone a big, hulking asshat like himself. It was a pitiful attempt.
When she arrived at the opposite end of the bar, she picked up the drinks menu without noticing him. The bartender approached, saying something in Spanish. Without looking up from the menu she replied, “Can I just have a cranberry juice, please?”
“No margarita? Come on, you’re on vacation. Live a little, honey.” This was said by another resort guest, a chiseled guy with slicked black hair. Fresh drops of water and sand dotted his tanned chest, as though he’d just emerged from the ocean like a male version of Venus. Now the manbeast stood prowling over his wife. The shades of white in Trey’s vision were sparking brighter with jealousy.
“Sorry?” she asked while adjusting her bikini top strap. Her expression conveyed confusion, as if she didn’t understand why a man would be telling her anything, let alone begging for her attention.
Unlike her, Trey was not confused. The skewer gripped in his left hand became a potential weapon. While he was normally laid-back, there was a part of him wanting to John Wick roll across the bar top and jab the skewer through the other man’s hand before using his thighs to choke him out.
“Get lost,” Catalina said in response to whatever else the man had said while Trey hadn’t been paying attention. In response, the asshole called her a crude name before stomping through the sand away from the bar.
Dammit!All this happened while Trey had been busy daydreaming, missing his chance to step in to save her from a creep. It had also been his best opportunity to choke a guy out with his thighs while growling the phrase,Go to sleep. If he wanted to save his marriage, he needed to be on top of it (and, hopefully, on top of her) a lot more.
Her gaze then zeroed in on him from the other side of the bar. His muscles froze as though he’d been caught. Her eyes were so intensely dark he was afraid she’d developed the power of psychokinesis and could get him to jab the skewer into his own right hand—which would be unfortunate because it was the same hand he’d become good friends with these last few months as a result of their growing distance.
Trey let an easy smile sweep across his features in an attempt not to show any fear. “Hey, Cat. Fancy seeing you here. Come to this bar often?”
“Are you watching me?”
“What? No. I… I was just hanging out and—I didn’t see anything.”
Her gaze narrowed in his direction. “Well? Did I pass the test?”
“Test?” Wasthisa test right now? His brain scrambled for the correct answer.
“The faithfulness test. With that guy.”
Oh. It finally clicked. He wished the accusation had never popped from his mouth that fateful night. It hadn’t been what he’d meant to say at all. The words had burst out without any consideration of the implication in all their gloriously messy form. He hadn’teven believed it. He loved Catalina. It was just that…
It didn’t matter. Because once the allegation had been made, it set off an explosion of consequences. They were the only words that had penetrated her hard shell and festered like a wound.
“No. No test. I guess you told him,” he said with a weak smile.
She hadn’t moved from her position at the bar, leaning against the edge of it and taking a sip from her cranberry juice. Since she remained, he took a similar nonchalant position beside her. He could finally observe the white bikini close up.
When his eyes met hers again, she glared. “Like what you see?”
He held the empty wooden skewer in between his fingers like a cigarette as he leaned an elbow against the bar, pretending he wasn’t on the edge of a plank about to be shoved into shark-infested waters. “I do, but then I always like what I see. Is it new?”
“It isn’t old.”
“I feel like you have an unfair advantage. If I had known this was the assignment, I would’ve bought a white mankini. Do you think the little shop next door will have one?”
“Think that’ll help?” she asked in a cynical tone.
“Couldn’t hurt. I’m already in the doghouse. My raw sexuality might be the only thing I have left.”
Releasing a soft scoff, she rolled her eyes. “If that’s all you have, you’re in a world of hurt, pal. You think that works on me anymore?”
Her words pained him, but he laughed it off. “Ifyou’re so confident, take me back to the room and find out. Why waste a perfectly good bikini?”
She glanced down at his body before meeting his eyes again as though she had the ability to leave a blaze of flames along the pathway of her vision. Despite the current situation, Catalina and Trey never had this type of antagonistic relationship before. While he hated being in the doghouse, so to speak, he found this unquestionably hot. Her standing there with a hand on her hip and her eyes sparking led to his body having a physical response, each muscle poised and tight, ready for action. He wanted to take her on the freaking bar top.
Maybe Catalina was also feeling something, as her breath quickened. She wet her lips with her tongue before her beautiful mouth opened to reply to him. The bartender interrupted, addressing his wife. Trey didn’t understand Spanish, but he got the impression the bartender was asking if he was bothering her.
“No, it’s okay,” she responded before sighing. “He was just leaving. Weren’t you, Trey?” The spell had been broken.
