Roatan Plunge | Love Travels #2

Twenty-Two - Óscar

Lorena kissed me.

In front of everyone.

At my brother's wedding.

I'm having an irrational response to the whole thing, tingling and fluttering like a little kid the first time he saw a Christmas present.

The woman lights me on fire and watches it burn.

And I don't mind even a little.

I just want her to do it again.

Her eyes are hesitant as the cheers rage around us. And it's my brother's wedding, so I can't just run away with her.

"Are you ready for our dance?" I ask once the cheers die down. Keeping my hands where they should be is becoming more and more difficult as her breath catches.

"I think so," she says, bringing her hand to her lips. "I'm just—"

"Making the best of tonight," I remind her. "No strings necessary."

At least, not for her. Because every part of me screams she'll hold every string I have until the day I die.

"So sorry to interrupt... whatever this is." Marcia waves her hands between the two of us and then pulls us both into a hug. "But I have a serious problem to address like three hours ago. Can we go somewhere private?"

"Of course," Lorena answers for me. "Go. I'll be fine."

Marcia bites at her lip, looking back and forth between us. "I was hoping you would both come with me. I have... just come with me, okay?"

She grabs both of our hands and leads us through the archway, down the hall, and into her room which has that nice lemony clean scent. Clearly she's had the cleaners come through since Abel was removed from the hotel virtually kicking and literally screaming that he'd get us back for this.

The video I took of that moment is worth every second of anything he might try to do in order to 'get back at us,' though.

"Sit." Marcia pulls me back to the present, swirling us both around her and onto the bed, right beside each other.

Lorena's hand falls onto my knee and Marcia stands in front of us, hands on her hips.

"Well?" I ask. "What is so urgent it couldn't wait until after the dancing?"

"Remember that hurricane that might or might not be coming in?" she asks.

"Yes," I drawl, because this sounds like it's about to be bad news.

"Two problems," she holds up her fingers. "First, the guy the team was going to fly in to help couldn't leave until tomorrow afternoon. Obviously, that isn't going to happen now. And second, we have to leave tonight to ensure the safety of the flight crew and, of course, ourselves."

"Tonight?" I ask, Lorena's hand tightening on my knee.

"Tonight," Marcia confirms with a quick nod of her head.

"So we don't get to stay for the wedding reception?" I ask, trying to wrap my head around everything she just said. And then it clicks. The real problem isn't missing my brother's second wedding reception. And it isn't losing the chance to dance with Lor. Well, it isn't just that.

"Wait. If the team guy isn't getting in at all, how is this tour even going ahead? You can't do everything on your own, Marcia. It's not healthy." But we can't cancel it. I know that.

The look she gives me could curdle milk, because it says in one tiny second, that she doesn't want to hear this shit from me, the guy who goes against her contract, makes her life harder, and frequently does the work of seven people to avoid overburdening others.