His laugh was tantalizing. “You probably saw me at my worst.”

“If that’s your worst, we’re in good shape. But for the record, I didn’t see a single thing to deter me from getting you naked tonight.”

The narration halted just as I said the last words. Teo laughed and I blushed. I put my head on his shoulder and stared out at the scenery.

I’d made reservations for two nights at the resort where Alexander Milton Kearns, now known as Ex, presided over several bars. Two nights was the minimum, and I’d thought we might want to observe and assess before we challenged him. By the time the boat pulled into Toucan Village, we’d been treated to dense tropical foliage with sightings of spider monkeys and crocodiles. I recognized some of the many birds as Florida friends, but not all. The woods along the canal were alive with movement and song.

We got out and collected our bags, making arrangements for a return trip on Sunday morning. The buildings seemed simple, almost primitive, but the grounds were lavish and the resort sprawled in every direction. Above us, though, the sky was turning darker. They didn’t call this rain forest for nothing.

After sitting so long Teo was ready to walk. “Let’s look around while the tour group registers.”

We left the backpack and suitcase at the front desk after a rapid stream of Spanish passed between Teo and the clerk, a middle-aged woman as trim as my mother.

“What did you tell her?” I asked as we walked away.

“I asked for a quiet room. I told her we planned to make noise all night long.”

Of course he hadn’t told her any such thing, but I winked, as if I believed him. “Did you tell her I always scream your name?”

“Who else’s?”

I slipped my arm around his waist, and we made a show of pretending to be lovers or honeymooners. For me, no acting ability was needed.

“I thought we’d look for the bars,” he said. “And with luck, the bartenders.”

Signs in the reception area, a large open room with decks and covered walkways, pointed to a total of three bars. The first took up a wall on one side of the dining room. Another was by the pool, and the last was in a gazebo with a roof thatched with palm fronds that stood alone looking over the river.

The dining room and its bar weren’t open. We were too late for lunch, and it was too early for dinner. The bar by the pool was doing a brisk business, so we sat on a stool and ordered beer and Costa Rican tamales cooked in banana leaves instead of corn husks.

Ex wasn’t there, and the two young women behind the counter weren’t in need of anybody’s supervision. We finished what passed for lunch and moved on to the gazebo, which was closed until five.

The skies took that moment to open. There was no warning patter of raindrops. One moment we were dry, and the next we were drenched. We sprinted to a covered walkway leading back to the reception area, got our luggage and directions. As we were leaving, I could swear the receptionist winked at me.