Acapulco Nights by K. J. Gillenwater Read Free Book Online Page A

at the highway in front of him. “Who said you were strange?”
    Mercedes pushed him lightly on the shoulder, laughing at his joke. “Oh, don’t listen to her. We're grateful that you picked us up. If we had taken the bus, we wouldn’t have gotten to the city until late.”
    Joaquin looked directly at me when he responded, “And then you would have to take the Metro—three beautiful señorita s at night on the Metro?  Not such a good idea, eh?”
    I had a hard time following the conversation from the back seat with the wind blowing loudly into the car. Looking out the window, I watched the countryside go past. High above us stood the magnificent Mount Popocateptl, a volcano that hadn’t erupted in years. It was the highest point in the range of mountains that ringed Mexico City to the south. With snow on its crown most of the year, it formed a perfect pointed peak. From the university we had a clear view, and it made for the most spectacular sunsets.
    “Don’t you think he’s cute?” Janice asked me.
    “I guess so, if you’re in to that type of guy.”
    “What type of guy?  Gorgeous, tall, and muscular?” She rolled her eyes at me, as if I were a fool.
    Joaquin said in his fluent, yet accented, English, “Hey, no secrets back there. It’s three of you against one of me.”
    He turned his head to talk over the seats, and I got a good look at what Mercedes drooled over. His profile was even better than what I had seen in the rearview mirror.
    Mercedes drew Joaquin’s attention back to her, using her one advantage over us: Spanish. She sped up the conversation, knowing Janice and I wouldn’t be able to keep up.
    I leaned back and looked over at Janice, “Can I borrow one of your CDs?” I pointed at her bag on the floor by her feet. Might as well make the time pass. It would be too hard to try to keep up a conversation from the back seat.
    “Sure.” She handed me the whole bag, and I unzipped a side pocket where Janice usually kept a few CDs for traveling.
    “Thanks.” I grabbed the first case I saw and put the disc into my CD player. As music filled my headphones, I slipped into a comfortable state—staring out the window at the passing scenery and trying to keep my thoughts off the beautiful man sitting in front of me.
    *
    “ Quieres una torta ?”
    The deep, male voice startled me out of a restless sleep.
    For a moment my mind couldn’t comprehend what he asked me. I rubbed my eyes and pushed a sweaty strand of hair out of my face, “Huh?”
    “He wants to know if you’re hungry. We stopped at a torta stand.” Janice jabbed me in the ribs.
    I pushed her hand away and straightened up, embarrassed that I had been caught sleeping.
    Joaquin leaned against the side of his car, squinting at me in the late afternoon light. I looked out the open window and saw a small wooden kiosk with a colorfully painted sign above it— TORTAS, TAMALES, LICUADOS . The hot pink and fluorescent yellow lettering glowed as brightly as any neon sign.
    “ Quieres ?” Joaquin questioned me again.
    I got my first good look at our driver. He was physically imposing, leaning there. Broad-shouldered and muscular with a brilliantly white smile—I had a hard time resisting him.
    Mercedes waited in the short line in front of the torta stand. 
    “ Sí, por favor ,” I reached for my money in my purse, as did Janice.
    He put up his hand in protest, “No, no, I will pay for it.” He lazily pushed off from the car and joined Mercedes in line.
    He knew I was watching him, arrogant bastard. But a fine-looking bastard .
    I had never encountered a man with so much self-confidence—as if he expected me to be attracted to him. For a moment, I wanted to brush off his charm and ignore his flirtations. But why not have some fun? 
    Here Janice and I were in Mexico, an exotic foreign country with an exotic foreign man. No one back home would ever have to know about him. Why couldn’t I put aside my doubts about his intentions and