As deep as Mack’s emotional well was, she was quick to climb out of it. As she helped Kayla down from the van, she said, “Beer first. View second.”
Peton turned out to be a light, crisp lager more in the Mexican style than the American. There was a sharp, hoppy note to it that Kayla had to fight through, but she knew Mack would like it even more. Mack didn’t drink much—having a clear head was too important for her job to spend her days hungover. Kayla had rarely seen her indulge in more than one or, on a weekend, two craft beers before calling it an early night. As she watched Mack tip the clear bottle back and take a long, appreciative sip, she decided she would make it her mission this week to make sure Mack had a good time and a few too many drinks. It was the least she could do after what Mack was doing for her.
“What?” Mack asked, giving her a curious look.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re scheming. Out with it LaLa.”
Kayla laughed at the old nickname. “I was just thinking that it’s going to be nice to see you relax for once.”
Mack scowled. “I relax.”
“Oh yeah? When?”
“I relax a lot, I’ll have you know.”
Kayla crossed her arms over her chest, but it was hard to intimidate a woman who knew her almost better than she knew herself and happened to be a foot taller than her. “How do you spend your evenings?”
“With a cup of herbal tea and classical music.”
Mack’s eyes darted away as she finished the sentence, and Kayla knew she was hiding something. “What do you do while you listen to classical music and drink tea?”
“Read.”
“A book or reports from work?”
Mack blushed again and looked at her toes. “Shut up.”
Kayla laughed and pulled her into a one-armed hug. “Like I said, I look forward to making you relax.”
They strolled through the parking lot, sipping their beers and staring out at the sea. The sunlight somehow felt brighter and warmer here, instantly relaxing her muscles in a way that usually required ninety minutes with a massage therapist. The dark rock cliffs formed a natural bay, keeping the water dead calm. Even from up here on top of the hill, it was clear that the water was the bright blue-green of Caribbean fantasies.
The fishing village, nestled into the curved valley between the two cliffs, was dotted with the same flat-roofed concrete houses from their drive. Each one was painted a bright color with pinks, blues, and yellows being the most popular, all in varying states of wear. Small boats with low cabins and stacks of nets lined the harbor and dotted the ocean, but just visible on the open sea past the other cliff face were ocean liners and cruise ships of breathtaking size. The juxtaposition of the quaint, quiet life of the island and the grinding gears of capitalism was jarring.
“Would you like me to take your picture?”
Linda’s voice, so close, shocked Kayla out of her reverie. She turned to see their new friend standing, her hands politely clasped behind her back, an expectant smile directed at them. It took her a moment to realize she was referring to her and Mack.
“Oh. Right. Yes. Would you like a picture…honey?” Kayla just managed to remember the endearment at the end.
Mack smiled, the beer giving her pale green eyes the slightest shimmer. “Anything you want, dearest.”
For a moment, Kayla recognized the power Mack’s vivid eyes and dashing smile had on women. The smile made her stomach squirm in a way Mack’s smile had never before, and the little wink she added to the statement sent a tiny shiver through her. What the hell did they put in the beer here?
Handing their bottles off to Manny, Mack positioned them near the edge of the cliff and wrapped an arm around Kayla’s waist. Her palm settled against the small of Kayla’s back, the pressure comforting and just a tiny bit possessive. It was strange to feel that touch from Mack, and Kayla had to force a smile to her lips.
As Linda lifted the phone to shoulder height, Mack said, “Watch your teeth.”
Before she could stop herself, Kayla burst out laughing. Her laughter settled into a wide, genuine smile just as Linda tapped the screen. Mack’s arm tightened around her, and the way her body quietly shook made it clear she was laughing too.
“What a beautiful couple,” Linda said as she handed the phone back.
Kayla playfully dug her elbow into Mack’s ribs. “Why would you do that?”
Mack pointed at the screen. “That’s why. You always make that fake smile in pictures. I wanted a real one from you.”
She looked down at the screen and froze. Mack was right. She had learned from years of being an awkward teenager forced to take promotional photos that it was safer to fake her enthusiasm. She could tell that she looked as stiff as a two-by-four in every photograph, but she hadn’t realized Mack knew. But this photo. God, they both looked amazing. Kayla’s hair blew off one shoulder in a slight breeze, and the sunlight haloed her face. A spark of mirth was in her eyes, bringing them to life. Mack smiled at the camera, but her body was turned towardKayla, protective and comforting and full of love. It looked like an engagement photo of the happiest couple in the world.
