Just This Once (4 page)

Shrugging mentally at her own vanity, she muttered, “Might
as well look my best, since he’s already seen me looking my worst. Even things
out a little.” She combed conditioner into her hair and pulled it back into a
loose braid to dry, then teased tendrils out around her face and slicked on her
favorite pink lip gloss. Slipped on her new narrow sandals, with the beads on
their thin leather straps and the low French heels.

“OK,” she told herself as she looked in the mirror. “That’s
as good as it’s going to get. Let’s go.”

He was leaning against the truck with his arms folded across
his chest, staring out to sea, as she approached. Hearing the tap of her heels
in the sandals, he turned, looking momentarily startled. Score one for the yellow
sundress, she told herself with a flush of satisfaction.

“Here I am,” she announced. “A bit less of the drowned rat,
I hope. Thanks for waiting.”

“Not any kind of a rat at all, I’d say,” he decided as he
opened the truck door for her.

Two points, she thought, realizing at the same time that she
shouldn’t get into his truck again. She’d really had no choice before, and
nobody could fault his manners, but she didn’t know him, after all. She asked,
as casually as she could manage, “Would you mind if we walked? It’s only a few
blocks, after all. And I think it would be good for me to walk off the shakes a
bit more.”

She had surprised him again, she saw. But after a moment, he
answered, “I can see I’ll have to get a mate to vouch for me. I’m pretty well
known around here, actually. But of course we can walk.”

“I haven’t thanked you properly for saving me,” she told him
as they made their way down the steep hill. “I was lucky you were out there so
early, and that you saw me and came to my rescue. I do realize what a debt I
owe you.”

“No worries. I was there, and we were lucky. There’s a bad
rip on that beach. Loads of drownings over the years, though you wouldn’t know
it to look at it. Best to swim between the flags where the lifesavers are, or
on a beach you know is safe, in En Zed. I’m guessing you haven’t been here
long. Are you Canadian?”

“No, American. I haven’t introduced myself, I realize. I’m
Hannah Montgomery. And yes, you can bet I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be a lot
more careful in the future, believe me. The sea looked so calm and beautiful, I
couldn’t resist. It never occurred to me that I could have a problem. I’ve swum
in the Bay, back home. But not in the ocean.”

“Drew Callahan.” He glanced down at her as he spoke, then
added after a beat, “American. I would’ve guessed Canadian. You have a soft
accent. Where are you from, in the States? Someplace near water, I’ve sussed
that out.”

“The San Francisco area now, but I grew up in a more rural
part of California. I suppose I don’t have a big-city accent. And you’re right,
I’m here on vacation, and this is only my fourth day. Obviously, I have a lot
to learn.”

“Not so much,” he shrugged. “You’ve had one of those
experiences you’ll remember, I reckon. And it gave me the chance to meet you, so
there’s the upside.”

Startled, she looked across at him. He quirked an eyebrow at
her, and she burst out laughing. “Maybe it was all a desperate ploy on my part,
have you thought of that? Women are probably flinging themselves in your path
all the time to get rescued.”

He smiled at that. “Well, never so dramatically. But we’re
here now.” He guided her into the little café with his hand on the small of her
back. She felt its warmth and knew she liked it. A big hand, a big man. But his
solidity, instead of feeling threatening, felt comforting. Maybe it was the
accent, she thought confusedly.

They were almost the only customers this early in the
morning. The girl at the counter took their orders, and Drew guided her again
to a little table in a backyard garden.

“You know,” she told him, “I don’t think I’ve been to a café
yet where the counter staff had New Zealand accents.”

“Kiwis don’t stay home, that’s why. The young people just
want to get out, see the world. And there’s not enough good work here. We lose
a lot of younger people to Aussie. Australia,” he explained at her questioning
look. “Have to import our tourist workers. Makes for a disappointing authentic
experience for the Yanks, expecting to hear all those Kiwi accents and getting
Romanian instead.”

“Do a lot of people leave here, then?” she asked in surprise.
“It’s so beautiful, though. I’ve only been here a few days, but I can’t imagine
leaving if I were lucky enough to live here. Did you leave and come back?”

“Nah. I like living here, and I travel heaps. More than
enough. Never wanted to move overseas, even though most of my mates did.”

“What do you do that you travel, if you don’t mind my
asking?” He didn’t look like a businessman—at least not like the businessmen she
knew. But maybe they grew them bigger over here.

And he was certainly that. Even relaxed, his arms were
massive and muscular, his chest broad. His thighs seemed almost as big around as
her waist, and she had realized while walking next to him that he must be six
foot three. Hope he doesn’t have to travel Economy, she thought, remembering
her cramped flight. She smiled, imagining him in the middle seat.

“What’s funny?” he asked. When she explained her mental image,
he laughed aloud. “Too right, I’d be cramped. Luckily, I don’t have to fly
economy much. I’m a rugby player, so I have some games overseas as well as here
in En Zed. Get to see the world, you could say.”

“Oh. That explains how you look,” she said without thinking,
then blushed when he smiled again. “I don’t know much about rugby,” she hurried
on, “though I’ve seen some American football back home. My father was a big
fan.”

“Not too different in some ways. Less padding.”

She looked more closely at his face and saw that he did look
a bit battered. His nose, she thought, had probably been broken and reset, and
she saw a scar on his chin and another coming down near an eyebrow. She had to
admit that they only added to the appeal of his rugged features. A little flustered,
she was glad when their coffees came, followed shortly by their breakfasts. He
had insisted on ordering eggs and toast for her, and had a mountain of food on
his own plate.

She asked, appalled, “Is that
breakfast?”

“The Big Brekkie, we call it. Eggs, sausage, bacon, hash
browns, toast, fried tomatoes, mushrooms. But this is my light breakfast,
because I’m not in serious training. During the season, I’d be having a steak
as well.”

She shuddered. “Well, I can see that you’d need it, since
you have an athletic job. But that isn’t advertised as ‘Rugby Players’
Breakfast,’ right? It’s just a regular menu option. Does everyone eat like
that?”

“Nah, it’s just that we’re a nation of farmers. Farmers and
Maori. Lots of big fellas with hearty appetites.”

“I’m surprised everyone doesn’t weigh 300 pounds. I’ve only
been here a few days, but you sure have a lot of tasty food. I’ve never seen so
many cafes. It’s like the whole country is a giant cruise ship.”

“And you know what they say about cruise ships,” she
continued solemnly.

“What’s that?”

“People gain a pound for every day they’re on the cruise. I
can see I’m going to have to step up my workouts or I’ll be waddling back
home.”

“No danger of that, I’d say.” He smiled at her
appreciatively.

He had excellent table manners, she was glad to see. She
still remembered the date she’d been on where the man had held his fork in his
fist. How could you not learn how to hold a fork? she had wondered at the time.
Drew wasn’t hard to watch anyway. Maybe she would even have forgiven him the
fork thing.

“Well,” she told him at last, “I’d better get back, and let
you get on with your fishing or whatever.”

He didn’t rise immediately. “You’ll need to rest today. When
you have that much adrenaline in your body, it hits you like a hammer after a
bit. But would you like to come out on the water with me tomorrow? I reckon I’m
your lifesaver now. Need to keep an eye on you in case you get swimming out
into any more rips.”

“I’d love that,” she answered in surprise.

“I’ll pick you up at nine, then. And this time, I hope
you’ll ride in the ute with me. It’s going to be a slow trip to the marina if
you have to run alongside.”

She laughed. “I think I can risk it. You don’t seem too bad,
so far.”

“My mum will be glad to hear it. She hates it when I attack
women.”

“You don’t have a mobile, do you?” he asked once they had
arrived back at the motel again. “A phone,” he explained at her questioning
look.

“Oh! No. You could reach me through the motel office,
though, I suppose, if your plans change. Or if you decide I’m too big a risk.”

“No chance of that. But good to know. I’ll see you tomorrow,
then. Go have a rest now.” He reached for her, kissed her gently on the cheek,
then strolled easily back to his truck.

She opened her door, but couldn’t resist turning and
watching him walk away. It was a pleasure. He didn’t swagger, exactly. But he
walked like he owned the ground he was covering. Arms wide and swinging, body
relaxed and upright, big strides. She sighed. He looked good.

Inside her room again, she sat on the edge of the bed and
pressed her hands to her cheeks. She had never met a man who affected her this
way. Not even close. What was it? He was nothing like the men she usually
dated. They had muscles too, some of those men. But they were gym-built
muscles. Drew looked like his muscles were there for a purpose.

For bringing other men to the ground, she reminded herself.
She might not know much about rugby, but she knew it was brutal. He hadn’t
seemed brutal, though. He’d been kind, and considerate, and not much louder or any
more . . . boisterous than she was herself. Weren’t rugby players supposed to
be hard-drinking types, breaking up the bar every night?  

She shook her head. She was too tired to think about it
anymore. In fact, she suddenly felt too tired even to sit up. She’d lie down
for a minute and take a rest. She was on vacation, after all.

When she woke, it took her a moment to remember where she
was, before the events of the morning came flooding back. To her astonishment,
it was three o’clock, and she’d been asleep for four hours. She thought about
her plan for the day, her hike, and realized she had to write it off the list for
now. She’d lie on the beach and read a book instead.

She looked up an hour later from her shady spot under the
trees, envying the bronzed girls lying out in the sun. They looked lovely, their
bikinis showing acres of tanned, firm skin. But a tan wasn’t healthy, she
reminded herself firmly. Anyway, she was fair-skinned, and that was all there
was to it.

Would Drew be expecting one of those carefree girls? She
wished suddenly that she could be a bit more like Kristen. Her vivacious sister
was perfectly equipped to handle a day on a boat with a sexy rugby player.
Whereas Hannah . . . well, she’d never been a party girl.

But he had asked her, she told herself. Because he liked her.
And she had said yes, because she liked him. Maybe she wasn’t his usual type.
Well, he wasn’t her usual type either. And it was a simple outing on a boat.
She’d just have to go with it.

She sighed. Going with it had never been her strong suit.

Hannah woke during the night to the sound of rain on the
roof of the little motel. Maybe it was just as well. She had come on this trip
to be alone, after all. Not to have a fling with a stranger, no matter how
attractive he was. And Drew unnerved her. She felt far from her usual controlled
self with him. Maybe it was better if this—whatever it was—ended here. Her
treacherous heart, though, refused to go along with that sensible plan, and
felt only disappointment at the thought of not seeing him again.

Her cool logic wasn’t necessary, it turned out, as the storm
passed and the following day dawned clear. By nine, she was ready—had been
ready for some time, if the painful truth were known, wearing her suit under a
sarong-style skirt printed in tropical colors, gauzy blouse, and wide straw hat
to protect her fair skin from the sun.

She was amused to think that Felix’s Bikini Meeting had indeed
brought results, at least from her. Afterwards, she had gone to Kristen’s store
and had let her sister help her select a second, more attractive suit to take
with her in addition to the strictly utilitarian one she normally wore. It was
still designed to get wet, rather than for lying provocatively on the beach, but
the one-piece’s warm color (“It’s not orange,” Kristen had told her, when
Hannah resisted. “It’s tangerine.
Big
difference.”), high-cut legs, and
thin, crisscrossed straps accentuated her curvy, athletic figure and definitely
was made to appeal, rather than to resist chlorine.

“It’ll fade in three months,” she had objected to Kristen as
her sister rolled her eyes.

“You’re only on vacation for three
weeks,
Hannah,”
Kristen had told her firmly. “This is the one. Buy it.”

Hannah had succumbed, although she had privately wondered
when she would ever wear such an impractical suit. Now she was grateful to her
fashion-conscious sister. She might not be in Kristen’s class, but she looked
good.

When she heard Drew’s knock, she picked up her straw bag and
opened the door to him. Maybe he wouldn’t look as good to her today, she
thought half-hopefully. No such luck, though. If anything, he seemed bigger and
more solid than ever, in long swim trunks and a close-fitting T-shirt made of
some quick-dry material, his hair covered by a baseball cap.

He looked down at her with an appreciative light in his gray
eyes and smiled a welcome. “I’m glad to see you’re ready. I half expected to
cool my heels while you finished your makeup.”