Page 86 of Accidental Blind Date
“Dax this is crazy,” I giggle. “That tub is wild.”
“Why don’t you indulge then?” he asks. “We have about 3 hours before dinner. I made reservations at the Italian place if that’s okay. And honestly, I’m a bit jet lagged and wouldn’t mind a nap.”
“We’re on mountain time,” I tease him.
“Okay, fine. Airplanes make me grumpy, especially when there’s crying babies and a 90-year-old woman sitting next to me asking for help with the New York Times crossword puzzle.”
“She was cute,” I muse while hanging my things in the closet that’s bigger than my closet at home.
“She was blind.”
I roll my head to look back at him. “You’re right. You are grumpy. Go take a nap.”
After taking a change of clothes into the bathroom, I close the door and literally take a moment to jump for glee before turning on the tub and splashing several coconutty soaps into the water, watching the bubbles rise with satisfaction.
Much like everything else in Costa Rica, the restaurant does not disappoint. We have the option of being picked up by one of the carts and driven across the resort or walking. But with the warm humid air holding the scent of fruity flowers and salty sea air, I prefer the walk and insist on it.
Dax doesn’t fight me on it, and we stroll at our leisure through the gardens and past the pools that have fallen still after the sun has gone behind the trees.
“This is just lovely,” I say, knowing full well that I overuse the word. But it really is.
“You are lovely,” Dax says, taking my hand in his. “That dress is stunning.”
“I found it at a secondhand store downtown,” I say, beaming down at it. But then my smile fades into a frown. “I suppose I didn’t need to mention that part.”
“I don’t care where you buy your clothes. Like I said, it’s stunning,” he tells me. And he isn’t wrong. Consignment shop or not, it’s silk. Shimmery, florally, and very flattering over my curves. Anything that can take on the task of making my hips look less hippy with success is worth the money. All $12.99 of it.
The restaurant is by reservation only, and despite being on a resort that feels like its own private island, it’s very busy. But I think it goes without saying that Dax made one. One on the patio overlooking the pool under strings of fairy lights and far enough from the live band down the path that we can hear the music but aren’t drowned out by it.
“Are you happy?” Dax asks as I take a sip of fruity cocktail number two for the day.
“Very. This is beautiful, Dax.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. You deserve it.”
I turn my head towards the trees, and the night air dances around the curled locks of my hair. “I can smell the ocean,” I tell him.
“I should certainly hope so. The beach is right through those trees.”
“It is?! Can we see it tomorrow? I’d love to go to a beach where the water doesn’t turn my toes into popsicles.”
Dax laughs and reaches across the table to take my hand in his. “Of course we can. We can do anything you want, Libby. I want you to see it all.”
And we do. The next day, we walk along the beach, me in a bathing suit that I was nervous to wear but that Dax insisted is gorgeous, and a beachy, sheer dress over the top. And Dax hason linen shorts and an equally sexy and breathable shirt, the top few buttons left undone.
We make our way slowly, picking cone shaped shells out of the sand and pointing out boats in the distance. When we come to a little village, we slip our sandals back on and make our way down the strip of little shops. I find a wrap that is handmade with coral and yellow flowers and talk Dax into buying a hat to keep the sun off his Northern European skin that hasn’t taken too kindly to the amount of sun I’ve dragged him through. But Dax hasn’t complained at all. He just smiles and buys the hat and a second tube of sun block.
It’s evening by the time we walk back towards the resort, carrying our sandals again, our feet in the water.
“So, what do you want to do now?” Dax asks. “We have another hour and a half before dinner.”
“I love the fact that the beach is so vacant. Everyone is out on the town. It’s like we have the whole ocean to ourselves.”
“We do,” he says, slipping an arm around me. “You want to go for a swim?”
“Sure,” I answer, slipping out of my dress and laying all of it on the sand far enough that the tide won’t sweep it all away. I tug at the corners and straps of my suit, hoping that it does in fact look as good as Dax claims it does.
“You’re sure this looks okay?” I ask. “I’m just hoping that the knot doesn’t come loose as soon as I jump into the…water…” I trail off and blink once, then twice, as I watch Dax in front of me, diving headfirst into a slow swell on the shore…butt ass naked. “Oh, my God.”
