Welcome! This week we have our choice of any one of four pictures of windows. This one is my choice as I continue Harley's story. We are restricted to 300 words only. Return to Tuesday Tales at the bottom of the page.
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Shyla wrapped a towel around her freshly-showered body and sat by the window. The crew was lucky to have rooms facing the beach. Off season? She smiled and rested her chin in her hands. Memories of playing on the deserted beach at six a.m. with Harley in Costa Rica danced through her brain.
At his suggestion, they’d shucked their suits to skinny dip in the warm, clear water. Floating on her belly, Shyla had rested her face on the surface, her eyes open, staring at the multitude of tiny, colorful fish. She’d never seen anything like them. She grabbed him and pointed to her find. He held his breath and watched with her.
The cook, a true romantic, whipped up a small breakfast delight
and packed it up with two café frío drinks – coffee with chocolate and whipped
cream. They dried off, spread out a blanket under the shade of a palm tree, and
dined on scrambled eggs and fresh fruit.
Feeding strawberries and kiwi to each other had led to lovemaking.
She sighed, remembering the passion, mixed with the naughtiness of being so
intimate on the sand. Their physical chemistry always led them there. She had
missed that with other men. And now it was over. She lingered, kneeling on a
chair, letting the soft, moist Caribbean breeze caress her face one more time.
After all, her suitcase was packed. Nothing left to do but dress.
The knock on her door brought her back to reality.
“You’re not ready yet? Let’s go,” Dan said, returning
to the hall.
Unable to tear her gaze from the scenery, she dressed by
rote. It had been too short, this island visit. And it had ended badly. But she
wouldn’t think about that until she got stateside. Plenty of time for a pity
party then.
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