Kirk MacLeod had never been to the shores of Mexico, but as he lay on a tanning chair, with his arms behind his head and his eyes trained at the big Caribbean sky painted with a thousand cumulus clouds speckled with stars, he thought—a guy could get used to this place.
The resort—a cliffside mecca that was all balconies, palm trees, and Adirondack chairs—was the closest thing to heaven this side of the living.
He"d only been here a week, but he"d already taken advantage of the pool, five-star restaurants, and a Jeep tour of the nearby community. The bartender knew him by name and had a martini on the rocks ready for him every day at 5:00. He spent his days and nights shirtless and in swimming trunks.
He"d watched the sunset. Of all the things he could have done in his life, he"d never t
