The morning after Christmas, I couldn’t have been more ambivalent about this whole vacation-with-a-stranger thing. My plan was to enjoy this time alone and not worry about whether this Kelly chick and I got along. We didn’t even have to see each other, I suppose. It was nice that half of the trip wouldn’t be going to waste. But vacationing with a stranger is awkward—plain and simple. I didn’t need us to be Thelma and Louise. I just needed to be able to tolerate her in the event she chose to hang out with me and not do her own thing.

  The plan was for Kelly to meet me at the airport after the limo dropped her off. They’d let me know the exact spot where they’d be bringing her so I could wait there. I had no idea what to expect; I didn’t even know this chick’s age. For all I knew, she could have been old enough to be my grandmother or eighteen.

  Finally, in the distance, I could see the black limo approaching. Butterflies swarmed in my belly. Okay, maybe I wasn’t as ambivalent as I’d thought. It felt like I was The Bachelor, waiting for the limo to pull up and not knowing what the woman exiting the vehicle was going to be like.

  When the limo pulled up, no one came around to open the back door. Instead, the door swung open and out came one of the tallest men I’d ever seen. He wore a Hawaiian shirt, a jumbo straw hat, and had what looked like Mardi Gras beads around his neck.

  What the hell?

  “Please tell me you’re Sarah.” He smiled.

  I had to admit, under that gargantuan hat, he had a pretty gorgeous face and piercing blue eyes.

  I cleared my throat. “I am.”

  Before I could get another word out, I went flying into the air. He’d lifted me up off my feet and spun me around so fast I nearly vomited.

  “Dude, this is gonna be awesome,” he said as he planted me back on my feet.

  Dude? “What? Excuse me. Who are you, and where the hell is Kelly?”

  “You’re looking at him.” He held his hand out. “Kelly Fugger. Great to meet you, Sarah.”

  “Kelly Fucker?”

  “Fugger. F-U-G-G-E-R.”

  Well, isn’t this a bitch… I’m fugged.

  SARAH

  “How can you be Kelly? You’re supposed to be a woman…”

  The guy pulled out the waistband of his shorts and peeked inside. “Sorry. Still not a woman. Though I have to admit, it’s been a while since I had a reason to check.” He shrugged. “I’ve had a bit of a dry spell since the vibrator thief and I split up.”

  I blinked a few times. “Vibrator thief?”

  He nodded. “That’s how I won the contest. My ex, Kelly—”

  I interrupted him. “Wait, your name is Kelly and your ex’s name is Kelly?”

  “I know what you’re thinking, but she didn’t steal my name, too. She was born a month before me.”

  The lines that had been etched into my forehead since he stepped out of the car deepened. “I’m so confused…”

  He nodded. “I felt the same way when I saw Dr. Phil unveiled at our annual new-product presentation.”

  “Dr. Phil?”

  “That’s what I’d named the vibrator I’d invented. You know, before Dr. Phil started on Oprah, he used to host self-help seminars, and now he’s a relationship guru.” Kelly shrugged. “Isn’t that what a vibrator is? Self-help when you’re in a bad relationship? Anyway, the company I work for renamed it Butterfly Kisses or some shit like that, so it’s probably why you never heard of Dr. Phil the vibrator.”

  I rubbed my temples. “Listen, Kelly, I’m not sure where the mix-up occurred, but the contest winner was supposed to be a woman. It wasn’t open to men.”

  He wagged a finger at me. “That’s what I initially assumed, but I checked the rules on the website before I entered, and it didn’t mention that you had to be a woman.”

  The stretch limo started to pull away. I raised my hand and yelled, “Wait!” But the damn thing kept going.

  I shook my head. “Well, I’m sorry the podcast must’ve forgotten to put that in the rules, but I can’t share a hotel room with a man.”

  “Still haven’t forgiven the gender for what your ex did, so you don’t want to be around a man, huh?”

  “What? No! I mean, yes, I’m still angry at my ex, but no, that’s not the reason I don’t want to share a room with a man.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I’m just not comfortable doing that.”

  “Is it because you’re attracted to me?” He pointed to his eyes and fluttered his long, dark lashes. “Some people call these bedroom eyes.”

  Oh my God. “Listen, Kelly. I’m really sorry for the mix-up. But I’m not going on this trip with you. I was already hesitant about sharing space with a woman. There’s just no way I can go with you.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  “You do?”

  Kelly rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. “What if I get my own room? And just catch a ride with you on the PJ and share the meal and alcohol plan that comes with the hotel stay?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know…”

  We were still standing out in front of the private-jet terminal. A guy in a uniform walked over. “Ms. McGraw?”

  I turned. “Yes?”

  “Your flight is ready to board.”

  “Okay. Can you just…give me one moment, please?”

  “Sure. But that’s all we have. The air traffic controller is backed up, and if we don’t take off in the next fifteen minutes, we’re going to lose our spot.”

  I nodded. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  Kelly lifted a brow. “So what do you say? Am I in?”

  I didn’t want to go on a trip with this guy, but I felt badly about the mix-up. Plus, how could I say no when he was willing to get a separate room? I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, but you need to find your own place to stay.”

  “Sweet!” An adorable, dimpled smile slid across his face. Kelly grabbed his luggage and motioned to the door with a wide swing of his hand. “Shall we?”

  I sighed. “I guess so.”

  A few minutes later, we were walking side by side on the tarmac, making our way to the plane. “For a second there, I was thinking this wasn’t going to happen,” he said. “But once I heard your last name, I knew it was fate.”

  I scrunched up my nose. “My last name?”

  “McGraw.” He winked. “That’s Dr. Phil’s last name.”

  Wow. He cleaned up really nice.

  If Kelly hadn’t waved and stood up from the table where he was already seated when I walked into the restaurant, I might not have recognized him. He’d shaved the beard he’d been sporting this morning and was now dressed in a jacket and tie. The hotel’s restaurants all had a strict dinner dress code. The maître d’ walked me over. Kelly stepped around to the chair across from his and pulled it out.

  “Thank you.” I smiled as I sat. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the beard, straw hat, and mismatched Hawaiian clothing. You went from tourist to chic.”

  He took the seat across from me. “And I almost didn’t recognize you smiling.”

  I bit my lip, embarrassed. “I’m sorry about the way that I acted earlier. I was just caught really off guard.”

  Kelly laid the napkin over his lap. “It’s okay. I get it. I hope you don’t mind me saying you look prettier with a smile.”

  “Thank you.”

  He looked around. “This place is fancy. How’s your room?”

  “It’s really nice. How about yours? Were you able to get a room at the place next door the front desk recommended?” Unfortunately, the hotel where I was staying was booked solid.

  “No, they were sold out. Most places were. I’m a few blocks over at a motel. They only had a room available for five of the six nights, but I’ll find someplace to stay the last night.”

  I’d thought a lot about how I’d made Kelly go somewhere else, as I lay poolside being served piña coladas this afternoon. While I didn’t think I should’ve had to share a room with him, it was wrong of me to not offer to cover the cost. I’d made a boatload off the contest from Jane’s sponsors.

  “I’d like to pay the cost of your hotel room. You won a contest fair and square, so you shouldn’t have to pay for any of the trip amenities that were promised to you.”

  Kelly waved me off. “It’s okay. It’s not that expensive, which is fair considering the rats.”

  My eyes widened.

  Kelly grinned. “I’m joking.”

  I chuckled. “Thank God. It’s hard to tell when you’re kidding. Like this afternoon, were you serious about inventing…you know, Dr. Phil?”

  “I don’t joke about vibrators,” he deadpanned.

  “Oh…”

  He smirked. “I’m teasing. But to answer your question, yes, I did invent Dr. Phil. I’m a product developer for Lucy Goosey Couples Toys.”

  The waiter came over with a basket of tortilla chips and guacamole and asked to take our wine order. I told Kelly I wasn’t picky, and he proceeded to speak to the waiter in fluent Spanish, without even needing to look at the menu.

  “Wow, did you just order wine?” I asked when the waiter walked away.

  He nodded. “A merlot. I read an article on the plane about a local winemaker, so I asked the waiter if they carried it.” Kelly held the basket out to me to take a chip before taking one for himself. “You know, because my travel buddy wouldn’t speak to me during the entire flight.”

  “Sorry about that, too. Luckily, the piña coladas I had after we arrived helped me climb down off my high horse.”

  “It’s fine. I’m just messing with you again.” He dipped his chip into the guac. “So tell me, are you really a marriage counselor, or was that just a bit for the show?”

  “No, I’m actually a marriage counselor.”

  “What’s that like?”

  “Well, there’s never a dull moment, that’s for sure. One minute I’ll have a couple in my office crying, and the next minute a couple will be screaming at the top of their lungs.”

  “Yeah, my business is the same. Some testers cry, some scream for joy.”

  I started to smile, then stopped. “Joking, right?”

  “Yes, indeedy.”

  “So how did you get into your line of work?”

  “Engineering degree from MIT, of course.”

  “I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not?”

  “I’m serious. I went to school for engineering, then did a stint as a developer for a robotics company. I was bored to death. Saw an ad for a job making women’s products, and I applied, half as a joke. Seven years later, I’m still there.”

  “So you like your job, then?”

  “Mostly I enjoy the human-testing phase where I get to try the products out on people.”

  My eyes grew wide.

  Kelly’s blue eyes sparkled as he leaned in. “Breathe. I’m joking. There is a human-testing phase, but we just read their written feedback.”

  That was pretty much how the next two hours went. Kelly entertained me with his dry sense of humor while we drank two bottles of delicious local wine. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d laughed so much on a first date, except…this wasn’t a date. After dinner, Kelly walked me to the elevator.

  “What time do you want to meet for breakfast?”

  “Is nine too late? Service ends at ten.”

  “Works for me. ’Night, Sarah.”

  “Goodnight, Kelly.”

  Back in my room, I washed off my makeup and changed for bed. Even though wine usually made me sleepy, I felt a little wired as I slipped beneath the covers. I was also feeling a little needy. It must’ve been all that talk about vibrators. So I got back out of bed and went to the hidden pocket in my suitcase to grab the little toy I’d brought with me. It took all of three minutes to get myself off. When I was done, I set my pink vibrator on the end table and reached up to turn the light off. But something on the bottom of the toy caught my eye. It looked like a logo with two script letters entwined, and if I wasn’t mistaken, the letters were LG. I lifted it for a closer inspection—sure enough, the manufacturer name stamped onto the bottom of the logo was listed as Lucy Goosey.

  Oh my God.

  Was it possible that my tripmate was responsible for the orgasm I’d just had?

  KELLY

  Sarah was already seated, with a heaping plate from the buffet, when I spotted her in the restaurant. I headed straight for her table and slid into the seat across from her.

  “Aren’t you gonna get food?” she asked with her mouth full. “I’m sorry—I was too hungry to wait.”

  “I’ll get something in a minute. I want to ask you something first.”

  “What’s up?”

  Filled with adrenaline, I wriggled my brows. “Feel like going on a little excursion today?”

  “Depends.”

  “Do you have plans?” I asked.

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “I booked an appointment at the spa for noon, actually.”

  “Cancel it. I have something better.”

  Sarah shook her head and sipped her coffee. “I don’t know what could be much better than a deep-tissue massage, but I’m listening.”

  Stealing one of the grapes off the side of her plate, I chewed and said, “I rented an ATV to tour the beach. It’s the best way to see everything. It’s got two seats, so what a waste if I don’t have anyone to go with me.”

  She bit her bottom lip and seemed to be considering my offer.

  “Come on,” I prodded. “The spa will still be here tomorrow. But I could only get the ATV for today. They were booked the rest of the week.”

  “Okay, then.” She shrugged. “Yeah. I’ll go.”

  “Sweet.” I smiled before getting up to head to the buffet. “Be right back.”

  Now I felt like I could relax and eat. For some reason, I’d been anxious to ask her to go with me. While Sarah had seemed pretty standoffish when we first met, she now seemed a bit more open to actually hanging out and having fun on her vacation. So at least there was hope. I certainly hadn’t come on this trip expecting to be attracted to my travel mate. In fact, I’d had no expectations about anything at all. I’d been bored one day on my lunch break, fucking around when I entered that contest. I never in a million years thought I’d actually win the damn thing. Which is probably why I didn’t take things seriously at first. Case in point, I’d worn that get-up to the airport to be funny. Of course, Sarah thought I was a lunatic. Turns out, she was only half-right.

  After picking up the ATV and gearing up in our helmets, we took off and explored the beautiful white-sand beach, basking in the bright sunshine while waves crashed in the distance. I didn’t mind having her arms wrapped around me one bit. It was hard to hear each other while we were riding, though, so we had to speak loudly.

  “So what happened with your ex?” I shouted as we rode along the beach.

  “You want me to talk about that now, when we’re supposed to be having fun?”

  “Why not? That way we can get all the downer stuff over with. Would you rather tell me about it over dinner when you can hear a pin drop?”

  She shouted over the motor. “Okay…my ex, Trent, who I’d been with since college, left me for his nineteen-year-old assistant. That’s all there is to it. Happy now? He traded me in for a new model.”

  “You know what they say when it comes to newer models versus the original?” I yelled.

  “What’s that?”

  “They don’t make ’em like they used to. Cheaper parts. Anyway, you’re a smoke show, Sarah. He’s smoking crack.”

  “Well, thank you.” She held onto me tighter. “You know, it kind of felt good yelling everything out.”

  “Really? Do it some more.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yell out your frustrations!”

  I didn’t think she was going to take me up on that until I heard her scream behind me at the top of her lungs.

  “Fuck you, Trent!”

  “There you go!” I said, revving the engine and going a bit faster. “He’s missing out on a damn good time here, too. Suits him right.”

  We rode along without talking for a bit.

  “Your turn,” she said. “I know a little about your dump story. You said her name was Kelly. What was so special about that vibrator anyway?”

  “The clit tickler,” I yelled.

  “What?”

  “Did you not hear me? Or do you just want to hear me say it again?”

  “I heard you. I guess I couldn’t believe my ears.”

  “Clit tickler!” I yelled even louder. “Say it again for the people in the back. Clit tickler!”

  She was laughing hysterically. “Please explain.”

  “I don’t know how comfortable you are with this stuff.”

  “Do you think I’m some kind of prude? I’ll have you know, I actually own a Lucy Goosey vibrator.”

  “Oh man. Do you happen to have the make and model number?”

  “Why?”

  “I want to know if I had anything to do with the design.”

  “I can let you know.” She squeezed my side. “Anyway, tell me about this clit-tickler thing. How did it come about?”

  “Well, as you know, my ex also worked for the company. One night I was…going down on her. And she said, ‘Damn, you’re so good at that. You should patent it.’ I asked her to be more specific. She said it was the precise way I tickled her with my tongue. So I started designing this contraption that would attach to the vibrator and apply just the right amount of pressure on a woman’s clit. The idea of a clit tickler was nothing new. But it was the specific mechanism and speed options of the one attached to Dr. Phil that made it special—that and the warm lubricant dispenser.”

  “How could she do that to you?”

  “Very easily. She’s an asshole, number one. Number two, we had detailed discussions about it, so I made it easy, I guess. Because all of our conversations were verbal, I had no way of proving she wasn’t the one who’d initiated the design.”