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His gaze narrows with pleasure while dipping to my lips.
I notice the nuance, and smile, entertained.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“How do you know what’s going on in my mind?” he tosses at me.
“I know. I was thinking about the same thing,” I say, smiling, but my grin fades quickly.
His smile vanishes when he witnesses the change in my expression.
“I’m not ready to go back. I just want to be with you and do nothing. Maybe look at the sky and the ocean until we fall asleep.”
He studies me before letting the car roll.
“We’re going back,” he says.
Back?
Is he taking me back to the hotel?
No. He wouldn’t do that.
Or is he thinking what I’m thinking?
He makes a u-turn, but that could mean a lot of things. Going back to the hotel is only one of them.
He pulls his phone out and makes a call. Like last night. No. We’re not going back to the hotel. Not that hotel.
He talks on the phone for a few good minutes, asking for the same room. Someone at the other end of the line has to make it happen.
They need to get the room ready for us. Maybe it’s the same room, the one with a beautiful view.
Everything has a beautiful view here, but nothing like that room. Although I may be biased because of the circumstances.
One thing that struck me and made me fall in love with that place was how quiet it was. Surrounded by vegetation and with the ocean in the distance, it was the perfect retreat for us last night. And it’s the same now.
We arrive after twelve o’clock.
The place is more populated than last night, naturally, but not like the hotel where we stay by the Biscayne Bay.
A few couples have lunch on the terrace.
We spot them in passing before the concierge lady heads our way, flashing a smile.
“The room is ready, sir. Would you like to order something from room service? Lunch? Drinks? Dessert?”
He shifts his eyes to me. She does it too.
“Water for me. And fruit. Do you have ice cream?” I ask.
She nods, smiling.
“Yes. Would you like fruit sorbet? It’s delicious. Passion fruit and strawberry with fresh fruit on the side.”
“Yes,” I say, a shred of enthusiasm beaming in my voice.
She moves her focus to him.
