Читать книгу Delicious Do-Over - Debbi Rawlins, Debbi Rawlins - Страница 9

LINDSEY, RICK REMINDED himself as he watched her nervously moisten her lips, not Jill. It was going to take some serious mental gear-shifting for her real name to sink in. If he hadn’t thought about her over the years, it might’ve been different. But that night on the beach had turned into more than a simple one-time hookup. Should’ve been nothing more, he knew. He’d had his share of them. Went with the lifestyle. In his sphere, chicks loved surfers. And if a guy was lucky enough to make money at it, the women seemed all the more willing.

“Were you transferred?” he asked, steeling himself against the fathomless depths of her blue eyes. Damn, he wanted to kiss her again.

She blinked. “What?”

“Your job was in Chicago. Now you’re moving to New York.”

“Oh, yes, I mean no.” She wrinkled her nose, something she seemed to do when she was frustrated with herself. He liked it. “I wasn’t transferred. I quit.”

“Yeah? What kind of job was it?”

“Accounting.”

He hadn’t seen that coming. Sticking her behind a desk seemed like a huge waste. With her long blond hair and big innocent blue eyes, she was a stunner. Great body, too. Not as skinny as six years ago. Her hips and breasts seemed more filled out. But he couldn’t let his mind go there, not yet. “Tired of corporate America, huh? Man, I get that.”

“I liked the company I worked for. They’re old and stable and have a great pension plan….” Her voice trailed off, and she briefly looked down at her hands. “I’m going into business with my college friends, Mia and Shelby. You didn’t meet them last time.”

“Good for you. Taking a small risk now and then is good for the soul.”

“Small risk?” She let out a laugh.

He grinned. “Ah, right, the pension plan.”

“Having no income until we make a profit?” she said defensively. “Excuse me, but that’s more than a small risk.”

“You’re right.” He held up his hands. “My bad.”

“What about you? What have you been doing?”

“A lot of surfing lately, though we’ve probably seen the last of the really big waves for the season.”

“I meant work.”

“I know.” He paused, watched Keoni schmooze with his customers. “The prize money for competition surfing is pretty good. It usually carries me through the year.” He shrugged. “Since I’m flexible, I spend a few months on the mainland, see my family, go skiing.”

The questions in her eyes multiplied. No surprise there. He was twenty-nine. Most people figured at that age a man should settle down, start thinking about a career, family. They weren’t necessarily wrong, but he had too much to do yet.

“Weren’t you an engineering student?” she asked, more curious than judgmental, which he appreciated.

“Yep, got my degree, checked out the job market, managed to get a few offers.” He took a swallow of beer. “But I just couldn’t see myself sitting in an office watching the clock.” He leaned back. “You look surprised.”

“I am. You seemed excited about going into engineering.”

Rick chuckled. “I was excited.” He stroked the silky smooth skin just below the hem of her shorts. “It had nothing to do with engineering.”

She blushed. Something else he liked about her. Women didn’t seem to do that anymore. “You’re bad,” she muttered, and brought the mug to her lips. She took a small sip and smiled.

Keoni returned, grabbing the towel that was draped over his beefy shoulder and mopped the moisture their mugs left on the bar. With a jerk of his broad chin, he asked Rick, “You ready for another one?”

“Nah, I have to drive.”

Keoni shrugged, saw that a customer at the far end of the bar was signaling for his check and started backing away. “How’s the shoulder?”

“A little stiff.” Rick gingerly touched the spot where he’d gotten banged up. “Not too bad.”

“Don’t be stupid about it, brah. You’ll end up bartending, like me.”

Rick watched him paste on a smile for the customer and pass the man his tab. No, Rick wouldn’t end up being a bartender, forcing smiles for the tourists, even if he quit surfing tomorrow. He might be easygoing but he wasn’t foolish. He’d made sure he was set for life. Not that it was anyone’s business. The more people knew about him, the more they expected of him. He didn’t need that crap.

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Lindsey asked, her eyes filled with concern.

“I hurt it a while ago. It’s good now.”

Her gaze touched his shoulder, moved to his chest, slid down to his belly. Then her high small breasts rose and fell with her soft sigh.

They needed to find some privacy. “Let’s go,” he said, and she eagerly nodded.

He pulled a twenty out of his pocket, slapped it down on the bar, anchored it with his mug and grabbed her hand.

LINDSEY WAS PRETTY SURE the few sips of beer wasn’t what was making her light-headed. It was Rick. The feel of his palm pressing hers, the way his long lean fingers curled possessively around her hand, the warm masculine scent of his body, all of it made her squishy inside. She liked that he’d shaved recently, and that his jaw was nice and smooth, and the cleft in his chin so prominent without whiskers to detract from it.

Even the glossiness of his sun-kissed hair in the sunlight and the bronze glow of his skin got to her in a surprisingly primal way. He had perfect posture, too, which was almost as important to her as good hygiene. She had fairly stringent requirements when it came to men, she suddenly realized. Or had she been comparing her subsequent dates to him?

No, that wasn’t possible. She’d known him for one night. An incredible, earth-stopping night, but still.

“How about we go to my place?” he asked when they were halfway back to the hotel.

She should have anticipated this, but she hadn’t thought ahead. “How far away is it?”

“About an hour, a little more depending on traffic.”

Her gaze went to the horizon. It was still light out, but the weakening sun was already sinking toward the water. “It would be dark by the time we got back.”

He tugged her closer. “You could spend the night.”

“I can’t,” she said quickly. “We just arrived today. My friends and I—I don’t want to ditch them our first night here.”

“Sure, no problem.” After a pause, he said, “How about I take you all to dinner?”

“I don’t know.” Lindsey knew she wasn’t ready for everyone to meet just yet. Not until she and Rick became reacquainted themselves. Hesitantly, she said, “I can check with them.”

“They might be busy. If I saw the Facebook thing, I’m sure a lot of other guys did, too.”

She nodded, and dug in her bag for her phone. “I’ll text them and see what’s going on.”

He released her hand, the abruptness startling her. Then he reached out and snatched a red Frisbee that was sailing through the air, headed straight for her.

The two boys, who’d been tossing the disc back and forth, stared warily at them.

Rick held on to the Frisbee while they approached the kids. “It’s too breezy and unpredictable to be playing with this on a crowded beach, guys,” he told them gently. “Why don’t you take it over there?” He indicated a strip of barren sand that stretched out between two hotels. “I’ll throw it to you.”

He waited until they’d run toward the spot, and with a small flick of his wrist, sent the Frisbee sailing over the boys’ outstretched arms.

“Whoa,” both kids yelled in unison, and turned to scramble after the toy.

“I see you’ve had some practice,” she commented, quickly finishing her brief message, then pressing Send.

“I play with my nieces and nephews when I’m home. They gang up on me.”

“Poor baby. How many do you have?”

“Seems like a hundred.” He shrugged, his fondness for them evident in his reluctant smile. “Five, all together. Three of them are a year apart and never run out of energy.”

She laughed, glanced at her phone, hoping Mia or Shelby would get back to her right away, or better yet, were too busy to respond.

“Tell you what,” he said, “if your friends are busy, why don’t we grab a picnic dinner and eat on the beach while we watch the sun set. There’s a cool place about ten minutes from here. No tourists.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

Grinning, he slid an arm around her waist. “Some tourists I like.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “One in particular, I like very much.”

His warm moist breath caressed her skin, giving her goose bumps. “Okay…I think I gave the girls long enough.”

He drew back, regarding her with an amused quirk of his brow. “You sure?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, and hoped she was right.

THE TRIP TO THE small market near the Honolulu zoo was an adventure all by itself. Most of the customers were friendly locals who apparently lived nearby and were doing their weekly shopping. The shelves were stocked with the normal basic staples, but there was also a large assortment of Asian foods that Lindsey simply couldn’t identify. Half the labels were of no help since she couldn’t read Chinese or Japanese.

Fortunately Rick seemed to know what he was doing. Or so she hoped, as she watched him toss a variety of items into the basket. At the ready-made section, he asked her to choose what she’d like. She pointed at something she assumed was made with rice, marinated chicken and cucumbers, and crossed her fingers.

While they stood in line at the checkout, she found a rack of sunglasses and tried on a couple. The selection was limited and mostly they were too big, but she settled on a cute enough, reasonably priced pair just as it was their turn to pay. She sidled up next to Rick, and dug in her purse for her wallet.

“I’m paying,” she said.

He frowned at her. “No, you aren’t.”

“It’s fair. You bought our drinks at the bar.”

“Not gonna happen.” He pulled out a wad of bills from his pocket.

The cashier scanned the last item, and Lindsey stubbornly was about to give the woman her debit card when Rick tossed a large box of condoms onto the counter.

“Could you get that, too,” he told the woman.

Lindsey froze, her gaze glued to the box. The really, really big box.

The cashier obliged him, then gave Rick a total, for which he handed her cash.

She felt like an idiot. No reason a grown woman should be embarrassed about buying condoms, but at a grocery store? Come on. The stooped Asian lady waiting in line behind them had to be older than Lindsey’s grandmother.

“Hey.” Rick picked up their two bags. “Did you want to get those sunglasses? I’m sorry I didn’t see them in your hands.”

“They aren’t right for me,” she said, hastily putting them back in their slot, and then leading him out of the store.

When they got to his Jeep, he carefully stowed the groceries on the floor in the back, while she slid into the passenger’s seat and buckled herself in. He climbed in behind the wheel, inserted the key into the ignition but didn’t start the engine.

“I embarrassed you back there. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, all innocence, and felt the heat rise from her neck to her face.

Rick chuckled, snatched her hand and pressed a quick kiss on the back of it before starting the engine. “We have to hurry or we’ll miss the best part of the sunset.”

After about ten minutes, they drove through a residential area where the houses were huge and spread out on mammoth lots, and reminded Lindsey of the mansions that once lorded over old sugar plantations.

They hadn’t gone far when Rick pulled off and drove them down a short gravel road and parked. On the right there was a small shabby house, to the left nothing but scrub brush and tall graceful palms swaying in the stiff ocean breeze. Before them lay a field of grass that butted up to a sandy beach.

He hopped out of the Jeep and pocketed the keys. “I’ll get the food. You take the mat and towels.”

“Isn’t this private property?”

“Nope. Public access to the beach.”

She came around the back of the car. There was no trunk, and she spotted the rolled-up straw mat and a couple of towels stashed on the backseat. She saw he kept a small cooler there, too, and watched as he dumped in a bag of ice he’d bought. With swift efficiency, he packed in cans of cola and beer, and then laid the cheese and fruit on top. He left the warm ready-made items and box of crackers in the paper sacks, and then handed her the mat and towels.

“I can handle the bag, too,” she said, and grabbed the handles when she saw that he’d planned on balancing it on top of the cooler chest.

“Thanks, we’re not going far.” His hands full, he used his knee to shut the door, and her gaze automatically drifted to the ridge of muscle that went up his thigh and disappeared under his shorts. “Ready?”

She cleared her throat and promptly lifted her gaze. “Yep.”

They got to the grass where there was an actual path to follow to a long stretch of solitary beach. In the distance, one hotel after another loomed against the dusky sky. To the right, toward the center of the island, white and gray clouds shrouded the tops of huge green mountains.

“Do those look like rain clouds to you?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. If it does come down, the rain will stay close to the mountains. We’re going this way,” he said, gesturing to their left. “Toward Diamond Head.”

Up this close, the crater wasn’t as visible as it was from the hotel, but she’d been curious about it since her first trip. “How did it get its name?”

“Diamond Head? I think it dates back to the eighteen hundreds. British sailors mistook the crystals embedded in the rocks for diamonds. The ancient Hawaiians called it Leahi, but nowadays everybody refers to it as Diamond Head.”

“What does Leahi mean?”

“The ‘ahi’ part means tuna. Some local people will swear it means brow of the tuna, others say it’s the fin of the tuna.” He shrugged. “You can’t tell from here, but it looks like a fin to me.”

She watched him take a lingering look, as if he never got tired of the scene. “You really love it here.”

“I like the people, and to me there’s no better surfing than on the North Shore. But I still get rock fever between trips to the mainland.”

“I’ve heard the term before, not sure what it means.”

“Nothing changes. The weather is pretty much the same year round, except for the rainier months. I’m used to the leaves changing color in October, the first snowfall, skiing, all that seasonal stuff.”

“Yeah, by January I’m complaining about the cold but I’d miss the change of seasons, too.” She squinted at the expanse of beach ahead of them, wishing she’d bought the darn sunglasses. “How far are we going?”

“Almost there.”

She honestly didn’t see the difference between one spot to the next. Once they’d made it past the grassy field there was nothing but sand and scrub. But she said nothing when he kept walking. After a few more yards and he stopped, gazed out at the water and then kicked away some branches before setting down the cooler.

“This particular spot reserved for you?” she asked with a grin.

“You’ll thank me in a few minutes.” He took the bag from her and set it on top of the cooler before shaking out the straw mat, something that seemed to be a tourist staple.

Lindsey frowned, curious as to what he meant. While he laid out one of the beach towels, she scanned the horizon. A large ship that she’d assumed was on the move had actually anchored. Their opportunity to see the sun sinking out of view could have been ruined depending on where they’d chosen to plant themselves.

Rick lifted the cooler onto the corner of the mat, and then spread out one of the beach towels. She should have offered to help instead of staring, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. The fluid ripple of muscle in his legs and arms as he moved held her captive. She hadn’t thought it possible, but Rick was better looking than she’d remembered.

She moistened her suddenly parched lips, her gaze sweeping the beach. Anticipation with a dash of apprehension swirled like freshly churned butter inside her.

It seemed she had him all to herself.