Work Wife

Newlyweds

By the time we reach baggage claim, I'm three sheets to the wind, along with the rest of the vacation-ready crowd flooding Cabo. I should've stopped drinking after my fourth vodka soda, but when Logan ordered a fifth an hour before landing, and I was still riding the high of staying calm the entire flight, I couldn't resist nodding when the flight attendant asked if I wanted another.

I found out that Logan is very funny. He had me giggling throughout the flight and I don't entirely think it was the booze. I also discovered we have similar tastes in music and have been to the same concerts in Denver. He peppered me with questions which kept me distracted and it was kind of nice to open up to someone new. He made it easy and seemed to be into my answers. It wasn't just to keep me from having an anxiety attack. 

Logan, somehow far more composed than I am, spots my bag on the carousel and grabs it with ease, balancing it alongside his own. He doesn't even pause before taking charge, hauling both suitcases as we weave through the chaos to passenger pickup.

When he starts heading toward the taxi line, I stop him with a wave of my hand. "I ordered a car," I tell him with a slur. "I didn't trust traveling alone in a taxi in Mexico." I glance at my texts as I look for my driver. The bridesmaid chat is fairly silent so the rest of the group must be on the plane now.

"Your last name is Harlow right?" Logan asks me as he looks around and I nod. He then points off to a Denali with a driver holding my last name on a sign in front of it. I follow behind him as he leads the way to the car and I am grateful the air conditioning is on full blast as we slide in.

Cabo is humid as hell and feels like it's at least ninety degrees out. I am already sweating and regret wearing high-waisted jean shorts that are sticking to my legs and waist.

"The Grand, sí?" The driver asks us after our bags are stowed and Logan answers him in Spanish. He then proceeds to have an entire conversation I don't understand, and not because I am drunk. I glance at Logan when the driver suddenly says to me, "Congratulations!" Logan tilts closer to me and whispers, "I just told him we are newlyweds on our honeymoon."

"Oh. Lovely," I reply with an eye roll. Logan shoots his arm out to slide it around me and then tucks my long hair behind my ear like we are just so smitten. He's grinning when I flick my finger off the tip of his nose. 

Logan darts his gaze back to the driver as he asks, "No es mi esposa tan hermosa? Tan bonita." He slides a finger down the side of my face and I have no idea what he just asked, but I know the word "Bonita". I dramatically frown at him and he tilts his head back and laughs, enjoying his own game.

"How do I say, I am going to kill you in Español?" I joke and he leans over and says, "Do you mean, te amo?" I swat his hand off me and I can't believe I am drunk in a car flirting with Logan. It's been so long since I've been flirted with, I don't even know if I am doing it properly.

We gaze out the window as the resort comes into view, and it's even more stunning than the photos. Nestled into the cliffside, it looks like a natural extension of the rocky terrain, with palm trees sprouting from crevices as though placed there by design. From the check-in area, the ocean is hidden from sight, but I know my room promises a view. 

"Do you have your own room?" I ask him as we drive along the stone path with gorgeous greenery splitting up the middle.

"Why? Wanna know if I am going to be alone?" He smirks and I pull his baseball hat over his eyes.

"No, I didn't know if you had to deal with the other drunken idiots or if you had some peace and quiet." We are about to pull up to the main doors when he says, "I have my own room. I can afford not to deal with drunken idiots. What about you?"