Delicious Do-Over (8 page)

He didn’t care. She had other tells. Like the way she wrinkled her nose when she was confused or uncertain, or how she pressed her lips together when she regretted giving up too much information. But he was still learning to read her. That first night had been spent mainly in the dark, talking, touching. Yeah, a lot of touching.

The whole evening had been crazy. He’d been full of pent-up energy after spending a restless day contemplating whether he was doing the right thing by staying in school. He’d been a month short of twenty-three, and because he’d started college at twenty, he was still a sophomore.

That meant three more years of school in order to get his engineering degree. He hadn’t been sure he was on the right path. As much as he got off on learning how things worked and being able to create something from nothing, the thought of an office job filled him with dread.

Walking away from school wouldn’t have been hard. He hadn’t needed an education to secure his future. As long as he didn’t get stupid with the money he’d invested, he’d be able to live the rest of his life on a beach somewhere and not lift a finger. At twenty-three, the idea had been damn tempting. Until he’d spent that night with Lindsey.

She may have been insecure about spring-break sex, but man, she’d been sure as hell about her future.

She wasn’t going to school for her parents or because it was expected of her. She’d told him that she wanted as many options as possible. That’s what her degree was about—options. She didn’t want to wake up one day filled with regret, unable to change the past.

At the time, he’d had too many options. At eighteen, he’d earned serious cash as an oil rig diver, and somehow he’d come up with a simple fix for an endemic problem with high pressure valves. With his patent, money ceased to be an issue. Wouldn’t be, in fact, for the rest of his life. He could kick back, surf and ski and travel to his heart’s content, but he didn’t want one moment of success at twenty to be the apex of his life.

He swore then that he wouldn’t let his success change his goals. Except he had. Everyone fussed over his potential, pushed him to start college as he’d promised. As expectations mounted, so had his fear. What if he never had another bankable idea again?

Then he’d met steady, sensible Lindsey and he’d promised himself he’d finish school just as he’d set out to do. Whether he used the degree for a job or not was immaterial. He wouldn’t regret having the knowledge. The invention bug had bitten though—he wanted to be that person who could look at anything and know that he could make it something better. He wanted the challenge and he wanted the thrill of success again.

Safety and security had been Lindsey’s brass ring. He hadn’t totally gotten it at the time, but knowing about her childhood, now he understood. All he knew was that she was sure and steady and more centered than anyone he knew, and he envied her. Because she would never be a woman who would end up disappointed in herself.

He wanted to be that person. Every time he’d been tempted to kiss off school after that night, he thought of her.

Squinting up at the sky, he noticed the clouds were starting to come in from the northeast. Damn, he hoped it didn’t rain. March could be an iffy month. Unfortunately, this side of the island could be clear while it rained where he lived. But the rain was what kept the north and windward side lush and green. He had to get her out there. It was a different world, the polar opposite of Waikiki. She was going to love it.

Oddly, it mattered to him that she did. Which made no sense, he thought as he watched an Asian couple take pictures of each other in front of the ABC window display of Hawaiian shirts and colorful rubber flip-flops. In fact, the idea bothered him. What difference should it make to him if she liked the North Shore? In a week she’d be gone.

Lindsey walked out of the store, clutching a bag, her new sunglasses already in place shielding her eyes. He smiled at the bag, thinking that she might have bought one of the many souvenirs hawked by the touristy convenience store that was a Waikiki staple. He was an impatient shopper, in the habit of dashing into stores and grabbing only the thing he needed, but he’d like to watch her shop, he decided. He guessed that she’d be slow and thoughtful, making a mental list of pros and cons as she deliberated over each item.

A shirtless dude riding a bike braked in front of her, and she stopped when he said something to her. Whatever it was, she smiled shyly, shook her head, her shoulder-length blond hair shimmering in the noon sun. The guy eyed her long after she walked away from him, staring admiringly at her from over his aviator-style dark lenses.

Hell, Rick totally understood. He’d have given her a third look. And that was another thing he liked about her. She had a head-turning body, great hair, perfect face and she took it all in stride. Maybe her strict upbringing had something to do with keeping her centered. Whatever, she sure had her act together.

He’d forgotten that he dropped her off in front of the entrance and then found a shady place to park. He only remembered when he saw her hesitate at the curb and look around as if she were confused, and he flagged her down.

She smiled as she climbed into the Jeep. “Interesting store,” she said. “I’m going to have to go back and pick up a few things for my family before I leave.”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that there’s one on just about every corner in Waikiki. Thirty-seven of them within a one-mile radius to be exact. Another twenty-seven around Honolulu and on the other islands.”

She laughed. “What did you do, drive around and count them?”

“Nope.” Rick started the engine. “I tried to buy stock.”

He smiled. “I’m not going up with you.”

“You’re not?”

He removed his sunglasses and hung them off the neckline of his shirt. “Go get your shower, talk to your friends.” He touched her hair. “Take your time, Lindsey. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Get a room, if they have one available. If not, I’ll try the hotel across the street.”

For a horrifying instant she thought he’d given up on taking her to his place. “I thought we were going to the North Shore.”

“We are, but it’s a two-hour round-trip, so it makes sense for me to have a room here.” He rubbed his shadowed jaw. “I can shave, shower, keep a change of clothes for when we’re in Waikiki.”

“I hate for you to spend the money,” she said, knowing that he was trying to make things easier for her. “But with the three of us sharing two rooms, I can’t really—”

“I know.” He nudged her chin up and brushed a kiss across her lips. “We’ll meet at the pool when you’re ready. You have my number.”

She nodded, and heard the elevator ding. “I’ll be at least an hour.” She took a step backward, then moved aside for a family to enter the car, without breaking eye contact with him.

It was silly. They were only going to be apart for an hour or two, but she already hated the thought. She boarded the elevator last, then turned to face the lobby. He was still standing there watching her as the doors slid closed. At the last second he winked, and her stupid heart fluttered like a nervous butterfly.

This was amazing.
He
was amazing. Last week she’d harbored a cautious hope that he’d somehow magically show up. At every turn she’d warned herself against disappointment. The chances were slim that he’d have the opportunity, much less want to see her again. But this was so much better than she had imagined.

“What floor?”

Lindsey blinked at the scowling teenage girl with the dyed pink stripe through her hair. From the tone of her voice, the question had been asked more than once.

“Seven. Thanks.” Lindsey ignored the other two kids giggling behind her and let herself daydream about Rick.

There was so much more she still had to learn about him. Like how he had the money to invest in stocks. No, her curiosity wasn’t about him having the discretionary funds as much as it was about his ambition to invest. He was only twenty-nine, no steady job and obviously no steady paycheck. Yet he carried a lot of cash and didn’t seem reluctant to spend it. Which made her think inheritance, but the way he’d described his family, she didn’t think so.

She’d done well financially, especially for someone her age, and that was the only reason she felt comfortable enough taking a risk on the new business with Mia and Shelby. But she’d scrimped a lot to build her small nest egg, and she sure never had enough to gamble on the stock market. She hoped he wasn’t trying to impress her.

A few seconds of consideration and she rejected the idea. He wasn’t the type. Besides, he had enough going for him that he didn’t have to pad his appeal.

The elevator stopped at her floor, and as she headed toward the rooms there were no Do Not Disturb signs hanging from either of the doorknobs. She got out her key card and let herself in, already dreading having to look in the mirror.

Once she was inside and saw that the connecting door was open, she called out. It didn’t appear that Mia or Shelby was there.

She had mixed feelings about not being able to talk to them. While she wanted to assure herself that they were busy having fun, she wasn’t quite ready to talk about Rick. They’d want details she wasn’t willing to share.

After dropping her purse and the bag with the self-tanning lotion on the console table, she went straight for the shower. As she stripped, her thoughts, of course, went back to Rick. Understandable, except that her curse in life was to overanalyze everything. Didn’t seem to matter that she’d sworn up and down that this trip would be a nonthinking, hedonistic vacation.

Sighing, she leaned into the stall and adjusted the shower spray, proud of herself for resisting the urge to look in the mirror. If she did, she knew full well she’d fixate on every single flaw, real or imagined. For once Lindsey would not allow her worst enemy to win.

Rick checked his emails, laughed at the stupid joke his ten-year-old nephew had sent him and then cursed at the price increase his polyurethane supplier was implementing in time for summer surfboard demand. The guy was a shark. No reason the cost should be going up, other than the fact he could get away with it. It really sucked because Rick wouldn’t pass on the added cost to his customers. Too many of them were local kids who busted their boards or had them jacked, and couldn’t afford to replace them.

As it was he had more employees than the shop warranted. He rarely turned down a poor kid who earnestly wanted their own board. But he never gave anything away. He made them work around the store to pay off the cost. His financial planner had called him three kinds of crazy, but he shrugged it off. As long as the store supported itself—and didn’t suck him dry—and his surfing prize money paid the rest of the bills, Rick didn’t care.

He set the phone aside, frowning, wondering if he should try the shop again. Odd, no one had answered. Before he could hit speed dial, the mellow sound of Jackson Browne signaled it was Wally. He picked up the phone, surprised at his irritation that it wasn’t Lindsey. He’d have to give her her own ring tone. Nothing immediately came to mind. Trying to decide on one that fit her was going to be interesting.

“Where are you?” Wally jumped in when Rick had hesitated, too busy thinking about Lindsey.

“Anything wrong?”

“Waimia’s up.”

“I heard.”

“Everybody’s asking where you are.”

Rick walked over to the sliding doors leading to the balcony and stared through the glass at the small Waikiki swells. Great for swimming, useless for surfing. “Did you get my message?”

“I got it. You didn’t come home last night, either,” Wally said, his coarse voice as rusty as an old nail. He looked mean with his long wiry gray hair and the unkempt salt-and-pepper beard, but anyone interested soon learned that the man had a heart of gold.

Rick didn’t know how he could run the shop without him. “Everything okay?”

“Skip and Kai were supposed to clean the back room today. Guess who didn’t show up? Wait ’til they need a few bucks for smokes.”

Rick shook his head. Wally was the worst offender in overindulging the kids. At least Rick wouldn’t contribute a penny toward cigarettes and made them work for anything else they wanted from the shop. “Look, I’m trying to get back over to that side by dark, but I don’t know yet.”

“Back over… Where the hell are you?”

“Waikiki,” Rick admitted. He’d said nothing to anyone yesterday because he didn’t know how the week would play out with Lindsey. “A friend came in from the mainland. I’m bringing her out this evening or tomorrow.”

“To your place?”

“Yeah, to my place,” Rick said, hearing the dread in Wally’s tone. “Why?”

“Shit.”

Rick grabbed a handful of hair at his nape in frustration. This wasn’t going to be good. “What do you mean, ‘shit’?”

“I let Scooter and Reno crash there last night.”

He gritted his teeth. Of all the kids who needed a place to stay last night, why them? “Were they messed up?”

“Only Scooter. Not too bad, though. They brought the key back this morning.”

“Okay,” Rick said, his mind working fast. This was his own damn fault. He should’ve warned Wally he could be bringing someone back and his place was temporarily off-limits. “Is anyone still around?”

“Only Deanna.”

“Tell her she can apply the time toward working at the shop for her new board, but I need the place cleaned up within four hours.”

“Done, brah. Even if I have to do it myself.”

Rick snorted. That meant stuffing dirty dishes and towels in closets. “You worry about the shop. If you can’t find Deanna, ask Malia or Jonny. I’ll check with you later.”

He disconnected the call, knowing he could count on his friend to make sure there’d be no unpleasant surprises by the time Rick got back with Lindsey. Wally had spent twenty years in the navy, ten of them stationed on and off in Honolulu. He loved the islands as much as anyone could. The day after he’d been eligible for his pension, he said aloha to Uncle Sam, moved to the North Shore and hadn’t stepped foot off the island for over eighteen years.

Checking his watch, Rick saw that it had been an hour and a half since he saw Lindsey. He grabbed the new trunks and yanked the towel off from around his hips on his way to the bathroom. The contents of his shorts’ pocket were spread out on the counter, and he found the thin leather band he used to tie back his hair. He got that taken care of, and then leaned in toward the mirror, angling his face to make sure he’d done a good job shaving.

Normally he went a few days without touching a razor, but he knew Lindsey had sensitive skin. He’d seen the small stubble burn he’d left on her breast earlier. It wouldn’t happen again. The inside skin of her thighs would be sensitive, too.

He took a deep breath. Thinking about all the things he wanted to do to her sent a shaft of heat to his cock. He glanced down, not surprised that he was getting hard. He doubted his body had returned to normal since the second they’d lain down together on the beach last night. He was still damn impressed with his willpower. Didn’t know how much longer it would last.

Gripping his cock, he gave it a few firm strokes. He groaned, closed his eyes, ordered himself to wait. On the other hand, nothing he could do for himself would feel close to the rush of burying himself inside Lindsey.