A Week in the Caribbean

The words 'I pissed in her' suddenly came back to mind and I giggled helplessly, my attempt to get up scuppered. Chuck got up instead and held a hand out for me to help me, and between the two of us we managed to get me onto my feet.

"Thanks," I said, still clinging to his hand.

"Don't mention it," he replied, looking at me. I was still a little bit giggly and unsteady, so I grabbed his other hand too. Then I smiled at him and he held me tightly, his fingers coiling around my wrists, and I could see the pool lighting reflecting off his jawline and I could smell the vodka on his breath and holy shit, we were kissing.

It felt electric and exciting. It wasn't a chaste, marital kiss on the lips, it was a hard, passionate kiss, full of desire on his side. My head tilted back and his hands slid to my waist, gripping me, pulling me in. My hair was getting in the way and I dragged it away with my fingernails, my bust pressing into his chest, his hand moving up to my neck, my cheek, holding me, guiding me, his lips overwhelming mine-

I turned my head sharply, breaking free of him and stepping away.

"I can't," I said plainly.

"Tallie, listen."

"No." I set off towards the hotel building.

"Wait, please, just..."

But I was gone.

Thursday

When I woke up, I wasn't wracked with guilt or anything. I'd been around long enough to know what a meaningless drunken kiss was. Neither Chuck nor I were in the best places, mentally, and this was just a destructive coping mechanism. And I knew I was better than that. Not that I blamed Chuck; he'd taken a shot, even if I was married, and who could blame him? No, it was me that needed to take control and stay in control. That's why I resolved not to go back to the bar for the rest of the week. All the alcohol wasn't doing me any good, anyway. A few days of detox would be the right thing before we went home.

Simon barely spoke a word to me all day, and when the kids were getting rowdy after too much sugar at lunchtime he had to take a convenient 'urgent work call' that needed two hours of peace and quiet in the bedroom while I tried to calm the girls down. After a stony-faced, silent evening meal, I'd had enough and took myself down to the indoor bar. Well, on a beautiful day, unsurprisingly the indoor bar was deserted, and the middle-aged woman behind the bar made drinks with a sour look on her face, fanning herself with a folded magazine even though everything was air-conditioned. I sipped vodka but the harsh indoor lighting and the low hum of the aircon didn't give much ambience, and I wished I could be outdoors, soaking up the tropical evening, talking to Chuck. Did I miss him?

It took exactly two vodka and orange juices for me to throw my resolution in the bin and stroll out to the pool. Yesterday had been pleasantly warm but today was really hot and the few remaining guests scattered around the pool were still in swimwear. I felt overdressed in a light summer dress, even, and the pool tiles were hot under my feet although the sun had already set. I didn't know what I really wanted to happen, whether I wanted to see Chuck or not, but he was standing in his usual place, behind the bar, looking out across the pool, leaning forward on his elbows. I want to say something sexy, like the fact that he was shirtless drew me to him, but in reality I just felt terribly lonely and he was the first person who'd spoken to me as something more than an overtired wife and mum in months.

"Hi," I said, quietly, taking a seat at the bar. He turned his head and noticed me for the first time, breaking into a smile.

"Hi," he replied. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Absolutely."

As the heat of the day finally began to die down, quite a few of the other resort guests lingered by the pool, so we couldn't be as informal as we had been before. Chuck had to keep up the pretence of running the bar properly and making real drinks, especially as occasionally someone else did walk over and ask for a white wine, or a rum and coke. Neither of us said a word about the kiss.

"So, I told you a funny story yesterday, have you got any?" Chuck asked, keeping his voice low so only I could hear.

I thought for a moment, wetting my hand on the condensation on my glass and wiping the cool water on my forehead. "Just any kind of funny story, or something sexy, too?"

"I'll never say no to something sexy."

I flashed a look at him. He was smiling, but I didn't really like the latent sexual tension. It felt like I was losing that control I had assured myself I had.

"Um, let me think," I said, swirling the ice in my glass and keeping my eyes away from him. "Oh, okay, I think I have a good one."

"Let's hear it, then."

I took a big drink to steady myself. "Okay, so, this happened to my cousin at her wedding, maybe five or six years ago or something. You remember we were talking about that hen do?"

Chuck nodded. "For sure, the bachelorette party."

"Yeah, that's it. Well, we were telling embarrassing stories and this one was hers."

"You still haven't started the story," Chuck said, playfully, and I flicked my finger in my drink so it splattered on him. No, don't let him charm you. Stay in control.

"Okay, well, so she's at her wedding and they've done the ceremony part with the vows and the rings and everything and they've just got to the reception afterwards, and there's some drinks and things for an hour until the food is served."

"Right, we have those kinda receptions in the US," Chuck said. "What's this cousin's name?"

"Jennifer. And her husband is Caleb."

"Just helps me to paint a picture, thanks."

I looked at him again to gauge how serious he was being, but he seemed deadly.

"Okay, right, so Jennifer and Caleb have arrived at the reception. They've just got married and, you know, it's romantic and they've had some champagne in the car on the way there and the bridal suite is only a minute's walk away, so Jennifer sends Caleb a text that says 'meet me in our room in fifteen minutes'. He's off somewhere else talking to his relatives or something.

"But, a minute after she sends it, she trips over her dress and spills an espresso martini all down it: complete disaster. You know, this is her wedding dress and now it's got a giant brown stain all over it, and she's still got the entire reception and the speeches and everything still to do."

"Bummer," Chuck said, deadpan.

"Hey, you'd understand if you were getting married," I pointed out, and he laughed. "So anyway, the guy making the drinks says that apparently soda water gets that kind of stain out, so she gets the bridesmaid and the bar guy gives them a bottle of it and they go straight back to the bridal suite to try and get the stain out. They go in, she takes the dress off so they can spread it out on the bathroom floor and then they're busy pouring this water on it and scrubbing the stain.

"Now Caleb, he's waited fifteen minutes and Jennifer's obviously gone back to the room, he doesn't know about the stain so he thinks it's time for some newlywed fun, right? He grabs a bottle of champagne and two glasses and goes off to the room. He walks in and the bathroom door is shut, so he goes over, knocks on the door and says, 'It's me, Caleb.' Jennifer is stressed about the dress situation and her suggestion to Caleb has gone completely out of her head, so both she and the bridesmaid, who's called Siobhan by the way, just say something like 'We'll be out in a minute.'

Chuck smiled. "I can see where this is going."

"Right? Caleb pours some champagne out and sits on the bed, thinking, holy fuck, I just hit the jackpot. It's my wedding day and I'm gonna have a threeway with the bride and the bridesmaid."

"Every dude's wedding fantasy," Chuck agreed.

"Jennifer comes out of the bathroom first, but because she's taken the dress off she's just in her bra and knickers, so Caleb thinks this is really happening. She says, 'Oh, sorry, we've just got a situation here', and Caleb replies, 'I know we talked about this but I didn't realise you wanted to do it today', with a big grin on his face, and Jennifer's completely confused, like, what the hell is he talking about. He thinks she's just nervous or something, so he says 'I didn't realise Siobhan would be into this but it's so cool that she is, my eyes have been glued to her tits all day in that dress'."

Chuck let out a knowing laugh. "Oh, man, what a fuck-up!"

I grinned, pleased he liked the story. "So then Siobhan comes out of the bathroom and Jennifer realises what's going on and goes ballistic, Caleb's mortified and starts apologising, the whole thing's a mess. And then they had to sit through the rest of the reception together all lovey-dovey while she's thinking, this fucking prick's been staring at my bridesmaid's boobs all day."

Still laughing, Chuck reached for the bottle to pour more drinks. "That's a good story, I would not like to have been in that guy's position. What happened to the dress?"

"The dress? Oh, the stain? Apparently the soda water thing works amazingly, the stain lifted right out and nobody even noticed for the rest of the night."

"Well at least there's a happy ending," Chuck said, smiling. "Oh man oh man, looking at her tits, that's so fucking bad."

I laughed again. "It's such a male thing to say, too."

"That's why it's funny, I could easily see myself making the same dumb mistake in that situation," Chuck said. "Thinking with his dick, not his head."

While we'd been talking, the last few guests had gone back to their rooms, leaving glasses dotted about for Chuck to go and collect. While he did that, I picked some ice out of the bucket and tried to cool my arms and wrists down, but it still felt so warm outside.

"It's too hot," I complained when he got back.

"The vodka's been in the fridge," he said, pulling the bottle out and handing it to me. The glass was wonderfully cool and I pressed my forearms against it, making him smile.

"I don't know how you put up with this kind of weather for more than a week at a time," I went on.

He patted his bare chest. "Like this. Much cooler than wearing a shirt. You should try it."

I looked at him and he looked back, half-serious, but the tell-tale twitches at the corner of his mouth gave him away.

"I'll keep that in mind," I finally said, and he put on a hurt expression.

"I'm only trying to help."

"Of course you are."

"Serious suggestion: what about a swim? That'll really help."

I glanced over my shoulder at the shimmering surface of the pool. It did look inviting.

"I've never been in a pool after dark before."

"You really should, it's fun. Come on, just for a few minutes."

"I haven't got my swimming costume," I pointed out. "And this dress is definitely not pool-suitable."

"Take it off," Chuck said, simply, completely serious this time. "It's dark, I won't be able to see anything." He took the bottle from me and came out from behind the bar, walking over to the side of the pool. I stayed where I was, watching, as he put the bottle down on the tiles and then darted over to the building nearby that housed the pumping apparatus. A few seconds later the tiny red light of the camera I didn't even know was there blinked off, and then Chuck stood on the edge of the pool. He looked over at me, gave me a big thumbs up, and jumped in with an almighty splash.

Now he was in it seemed so easy for me to join him, but being in the pool with him in just my underwear was obviously a big step. But it wasn't any more revealing than a bikini, and I'd be underwater most of the time. Chuck rolled onto his back and swam a length of the pool, his strokes making gentle noises. Not for the first time, I thought: what the hell?

He watched from the far end of the pool as I stood at the edge, swallowed several mouthfuls of the cold vodka, then picked the hair elastic off my wrist, tied my hair up in a high ponytail, slipped out of my dress and stepped in. The heated pool water wasn't exactly cold but it was a lot cooler than the warm air, and it felt divine sliding under the water until I was up to my neck, treading water, Chuck lazily swimming in my direction.

"Told you it feels great," he said when he got close, touching the edge with his fingertips before diving underwater to turn around. He was a really good swimmer, assured and confident even after drinking, whereas I stuck to the end of the pool where I could keep my feet firmly on the bottom. I did swim around a bit, struck by the beauty of the clear night sky high above us, until we were both content to stay at the edge of the pool, taking turns with the bottle, kicking our legs as we sat on an underwater ledge.

"Listen, this might not be your thing, but on Saturday there's a pool party thing at the next hotel over," Chuck suddenly said, out of nowhere. "It's mostly a younger crowd, but you'd be totally welcome if you wanted to come. I could take you over, if you wanted."

"What kind of pool party thing?"

"You know, drinks, there's a DJ, everyone in bathing suits. It's really relaxed, things don't usually get crazy until the evening and you could leave before then."

"Who says I want to leave before things get crazy?" I asked, and Chuck laughed.

"I'm not sure it's your kind of crazy."

I stared at him. "What do you mean? I'm not that old, I can handle a bit of crazy."

He looked back at me, paused as if he was about to say something, then smiled again. "You really wanna know?"

"I'll probably find out anyway if I go, so you might as well tell me so I can prepare."

"Good point. Well, after six the girls get free cocktails if they're topless. And a lot of girls do it." He almost seemed embarrassed to tell me and followed up immediately. "I mean, I'm not inviting you so you have to do that, it's optional anyway, all I meant was, we could hang out and just leave whenever."

"I've heard crazier things. Maybe even been to crazier parties," I told him, but I wasn't sure that was true. A topless pool party was exactly the kind of thing I'd always heard about but never actually attended.

"Anyway, it's up to you, no pressure," Chuck said, tipping himself forward into the pool and swimming off. I watched him, still kicking my legs, thinking about it. Simon would hate it, obviously, but then who cared what he thought, really? I should be allowed one day to do what I like, and it only had to be a few hours. He had his fucking work call, after all. But the reason I was actually nervous about going was because of Chuck. This private thing we had going on, just the two of us, a deserted bar and drinks, that felt safe, I was in control. But a party with his friends and music and everything... For a start, I was probably fifteen years older than most of the other people who'd be going there. And was it like a date? Or just hanging out? Would things go out of my control?

Chuck was pushing himself off the edge of the pool and swimming underwater, surfacing at the far end, and I was getting warm again so I slid off the ledge too, standing on the bottom and dousing myself in the water again. My mind was racing and I didn't want to decide, so I turned around and reached for the bottle instead. Alcohol never helped anyone make a good, responsible decision, but I was out of other options.

As I put the bottle back, Chuck swam up behind me, and I looked over my shoulder as he arrived.

"I'll think about it. Tell you tomorrow," I said, playing for time.

"Okay, sure, sounds good."

He was behind me and his arms were around me, going from my shoulders down my arms to my wrists and my hands, his bottom half bumping gently into me, and I was suddenly very aware of something hard pressing into my bum. His lips found my exposed neck and he kissed me there, sending a tiny shiver up to my ear.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said, a line so obviously rehearsed in his head that I couldn't help laughing.

"What?" he asked, still holding me but now annoyed.

"Sorry, that was just... weird," I told him. I pushed my arse back into his hardness gently, creating a few inches of space, and then I pulled forward again and turned around to face him.

"We can't do this," I said, firmly.

"We only have to do what you want to do," Chuck said, his voice low and sexy. "I'm just asking."

"Well, don't ask," I said, putting my hand on his chest to keep him a few inches away. His skin was warm and soft and I wanted to feel more of it, but the rational part of my brain was still in the driving seat, somehow. "The kiss yesterday was too much."

"Okay." He sounded calm and level about it, but I could see disappointment in his features. He was so close to me, I could feel his breath on me, his eyes on me, his hands still on mine. My wet breasts were an inch from him. It would be so easy to kiss him, to have him, to see where that would lead, to give myself to him. But that was the kind of wrong, bad decision the alcohol was pushing me towards and I knew I'd regret it.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be," he whispered back.

There was a fraction of a second, an impulse, where I was about a hair's breadth from kissing him again. But the moment passed and the atmosphere cooled.

"I'd better get some sleep," I said, gently, and he stepped back from me.

"Will you be back tomorrow?" he asked, a neediness entering his voice for the first time. I shivered slightly, thrilled by the effect I was having on him.

"Probably." I smiled. "Now look the other way while I go and get changed."

As soon as I was safely away from him, away from temptation, I tortured myself with thoughts of what might have been. His lips on me, teasing me, satisfying me, brushing over me, his hands, his teeth... I lay somewhere between sleep and waking, unable to get him out of my mind.

Friday

The intense heat gave way to rain and a family day watching movies on the big TV in the room. The girls didn't seem bothered about going to the pool, and Simon was happy to alternate between scrolling social media and playing a kind of mediaeval fighting game on his phone for hours on end. I had to admit, I wasn't riveted by Super Tongo 4: Rise of the Nightmare, an animated adventure about a superhero horse, but the girls liked it.

I'd told Simon I was going out for the afternoon the next day and would he please take a turn taking the girls to the pool, to which he'd responded angrily at first and then petulantly, continuing his campaign of silence and occasionally making snide comments to the kids about 'Mummy's drinking problem' and how they'd have 'the first fun day of the holiday with Daddy tomorrow'. He was such an overgrown child about it all, but my usual anger, depression and acceptance was tempered by the thought of Chuck. I felt... desired. Wanted. Longed for. It was a feeling I hadn't had in years, not since the early days with Simon. He hadn't desired me like this since before the kids came along: sex with him was more of an expectation, a weekly routine. It hadn't always been like that, but the endlessness of family life had ground it out of both of us. And now I'd found a spark of something new and exciting, but I didn't just want to be the cliché, the wife who jumps into bed with the first man who shows a passing interest. It was fun with Chuck, but I wasn't going to sleep with him. Tease him, maybe, have a good time at the party, hopefully, but that was the line. A sexy what-if.

The holiday had turned more into a holiday from reality, really. A place where I could pretend my life was something different, more interesting and fun. And Chuck was the catalyst for that, so I'd come to accept that there was no keeping away from him.

"I wonder what it would be like if you warmed it up, instead of refrigerating it," I asked aloud, looking at the ice in my glass.