Redeeming the Playboy

by Scott, S. L.

  When I exhale, I realize I’d stopped breathing altogether when he looked at me the way he did. He’s touched every inch of my body before—gently and sexually—but something about the moment we just shared reminded me of the way he looked at me the very first day we met.

  As I walk under the spray of the shower, I ask, trying to sound casual, “You asked me if I enjoyed myself after the first time we were together. I remember thinking that was thoughtful that you were concerned with how it felt emotionally for me.”

  He steps in behind me and holds me so were both under the water. Backing up, he grabs the shampoo, squirts some in his hand, and starts washing my hair. “I also washed your hair that first night.” He kisses my shoulder. “If you’re asking me if I always ask girls that question afterward, the answer is no. I never cared enough about anyone to even think to ask. I really cared if you had a good time.” He leans down to my ear and whispers, “I secretly hoped you’d stay with me that first day, but—”

  “But I was so pissed that I woke up alone.”

  “Yeah, you scared me a little,” he laughs.

  “You made love to me when all I was looking for was a good time.” I also laugh, rinsing the shampoo out of my hair.

  His hand goes to his chest, ego wounded, and all dramatic. “Oh how your words pierce my very manhood. So, you didn’t have a good time then?”

  He slides his fingers, conditioner coated, through my hair, carefully spreading it throughout.

  I playfully respond, “I didn’t say I didn’t have a good time, but you made love to me. You didn’t fuck me.”

  “Oh, I see. So Mallory Wray came to the island to get laid? Thank god, I was there to be of service, but my humblest apologies that I left her dissatisfied and in need of a proper fucking. I can only hope that I’ve made up for it.” I see the sparkle in his eyes as he teases.

  Shimmying my soapy body against him, I say, “More than made up for it, but if you’d like to keep making up for it, you know where to find me, hot stuff.”

  He steps out from rinsing his hair and I step under, closing my eyes and letting the water fall down my body. When I open them again, he’s staring at me and I recognize the look though it takes me a second to place it, a flashback to our first night together again.

  His smile lessens as he looks at me, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze drops away for the briefest of seconds, but when it returns there’s confusion, his expression mystified again.

  He asks, “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Just love me. That’s all.”

  “That’s easy. I meant what am I going to do when you’re gone?”

  “You’re also leaving.”

  “But not for a week. You leave in…” A heavy sigh fills in the rest and we finish our shower in silence. Both of us are well aware that I leave in three days and we don’t need the reminder.

  Within the hour, we’re on the road. But when we pull into the airport, I get confused. “What are we doing here?”

  “We’re doing a day trip to Kauai.”

  I grab his hand, stopping him as he tries to move forward. “Really?” I can’t hide my excitement.

  “C’mon or we’ll miss our flight.”

  After the short twenty-minute flight, we rent a convertible and drive along the coast eventually turning inland until we arrive at a place called Wailua River Cruises.

  “It’s pretty here. Are we going on a boat?” I ask as we walk to the ticket office.

  “Yes, we are. This is where parts of that old show “Fantasy Island” and I think some of “Lost” was filmed.” He leans forward over the counter, and says, “I have a reservation for two under Ashford.”

  The girl smiles at him and then starts typing. “Yes, here you are, Mr. Ashford, aannnndddd…” She eyes me up and down, but easily disregards me and focuses her attention back to Evan with a flirty smile.

  Squeezing Evan’s hand, I answer confidently, “Mrs. Ashford.” As the words leave my mouth, I go into some minor form of shock. Why did I do that? I claimed him because I got jealous. I turn around quickly to walk away, embarrassed for acting so childish and for doing that to Evan. But Evan stops my retreat, gripping my hand tighter in his then bringing it to his lips and placing one sweet, slow kiss on my knuckles. A gentle smile plays on his lips as he takes the tickets without any further acknowledgment of the girl behind the counter.

  I don’t say anything as we walk hand in hand down the long sidewalk to the pier where the boat is boarding, mainly because I feel a lump forming in my throat. He glances my way several times and I can see the smile that he’s trying to hold back. I’m so gonna be teased over that remark.

  After finding our seats on the boat, in the back, he can’t resist, and asks, “Mrs. Ashford, huh?” His gentle smile gets all smirky —arrogance and satisfaction playing equally.

  My face flames with heat. I’m about to go into all the pathetic reasons why I said that back there, but before I can speak, he says, “Stop freaking out. I like the sound of that name. Mallory Ashford has a nice ring to it. Is this something you’ve thought about before or did the green-eyed monster say that back there?”

  I drop my head into my hands, humiliated in my weak jealousy. He’s not stupid. He knows I got jealous and I hate that I did. “I’m sorry. Yes I’ll admit, I got jealous, but did you see how she was eye-flirting with you. Seeing that set something off inside me.”

  “I think it’s cute that you said that and no, I didn’t notice her eye-flirting with me.”

  “That’s because you think that’s how girls look at everyone, but they don’t. They only look at you that way and I’m leaving in less than three days and I don’t like that girls are going to do that to you and I’m not going to be here to put them in their place and even though I’ve given you a hard time in the past about territorial pissing on me that’s all I want to do is mark you as mine and make sure that every female in a hundred-foot vicinity knows you’re mine and only mine!” I word vomit then take a deep breath since my lungs are completely deflated from my rant.

  He leans over and kisses me softly. “Welcome to my world, except I don’t want guys closer than a hundred yards to you.” He laughs, making me smile and a little less crazy for how I acted.

  As the boat travels leisurely toward our destination, there’s a cool breeze coming off the water. I lean back against Evan, resting my hand on his leg, and appreciate the view.

  Earlier on the drive from the airport, I noticed Kauai is less populated and not as built up as Oahu. It really has a peace and calm about its natural beauty.

  “So, how do you feel about the name?” Evan asks, breaking into my daydreaming.

  “Name? Oh, as in your name? I love your name, Evan,” I state simply.

  He laughs. “My last name, silly?”

  “Ashford is a great name. What do you think about Wray?”

  “You’re being difficult, so I take that as a no to changing your name one day, even for the man that you’re madly in love with?” He waggles his eyebrows and drapes his arm across the back of my shoulders as I sit up.

  I’ve given this thought before and always knew I wanted Wray to stay my name. But he’s the first one to ever make me think twice about this stance. “I think I’d be willing to change it as long as it wasn’t to a more boring name than mine like Smith or Jones.”

  Sitting up and turning to face me directly, he says, “What about Ashford specifically? Is that more boring than Wray?” He’s serious, hopeful, and curious, and wearing his heart on his sleeve for me.

  “I like Ashford. I already told you that.”

  “Do you like it enough to change it if we ever get married?”

  I lift my legs and spin so they rest across his lap. “Is that important to you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve not thought that much about marriage before, but I do like the thought of my family having one shared name. It feels more like a unit that way.”

  “A
unit?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him for his choice of word. “Well, I understand that and it definitely makes it easier with kids, but it would be hard to give up a name that you’ve been called your entire life.” He seems to be waiting for the ‘right’ or different answer. “I think Ashford has a very nice ring to it, but I don’t think Mother Ashford would ever allow that to happen and by ‘that’ I mean us.”

  “Shit, you’re right. You sharing a name with her won’t go over well at all. That only leaves us one option.”

  “What is that?”

  “We should elope at once and change your name immediately,” he says, laughing.

  I laugh because that’s funny, but our laughter teeters off as the realization of a real future sinks in, wondering if we even have a chance. We both lean back again and let our minds wander back to the breathtaking scenery along the river.

  When we dock, we walk up a long pathway surrounded by the flora of what I’d always imagined for Hawaii. I still can’t get over that Hawaii really is this amazing looking, so natural and beautiful, but with this element that feels like you’ve gone back to the Jurassic era.

  Music wafts through the air, and Evan winks at me. “We’re here. This is Fern Grotto.”

  Looking ahead, I see a large open cave structure with ferns hanging from the upper rock covering. “Is this real?”

  “Nature made the grotto out of lava rock. It’s pretty, huh?”

  “Very pretty.”

  We walk within it and sit on ledges that are used as seats to watch the Hawaiian quartet play their ukulele’s and a woman singing in her native language. When she’s finishes the song, she announces that the next song is the traditional marriage song, explaining, “In ancient and modern times, couples came to the Grotto to be married. Instead of speaking their vows, this song was played and when it was over they were officially married.”

  Songs are about feeling and it seems to be joined in matrimony in this place, which is just so romantic to me.

  Just as she starts to sing, Evan takes my hands in his, glancing at me, then focusing back on the music.

  The song is long, but it’s easy to feel the love in it. When it’s over, the other tourists start meandering around the Grotto. Evan says, “You know in the Hawaiian culture we’re now married.” He gets this devious look in his eyes as he smiles all cocky. “May I have a kiss, Mrs. Ashford?”

  Taking my hands from his, I slide them around his neck, tug him closer, and seductively whisper, “Is a kiss all you want from your new wife?”

  He sighs, arching his eyebrow, and tilting his head to the side. “You’re a tease and right. I do want more, but I also don’t want to be arrested.”

  I kiss him before he can say anymore, my tongue moving smoothly past his open lips and melding with mouth. His warm breath envelopes me as his hands slide from around my back to my ribs and his thumbs press purposely against the side of my breasts.

  It doesn’t matter that we’re in public because I have his hands on me and his tongue in my mouth and the rest of the world disappears, like it always does when I’m with him.

  Our make-out session is interrupted by an older woman who promptly clears her throat, getting our attention. We both look up, but I notice Evans thumbs are still totally copping a feel of my side boobs.

  “It’s so lovely to see newlyweds,” she says. “You’re a very attractive couple and will be blessed with beautiful children. Congratulations.”

  In a most charming tone, Evan says, “Thank you. I’m a very lucky guy.”

  I playfully swat at him and correct him, “I’m the lucky one.”

  We all giggle at the playful banter, and in that moment, it really feels like we’re starting our forever together. Catching his smile as it reaches his eyes, I smile in return.

  The woman clutches her bag, as if it gives her strength as she speaks. “I lost my husband of forty-one years three years ago and I still miss him every day. We used to say the same thing about the other because we both thought we were the lucky ones.” She laughs to herself. “Cherish each other and every day you have together.” She smiles one more time and walks off to join the group tour of the grotto.

  We start down the path, but Evan stops me. His smiling eyes have turned serious, desperate even, and he says, “From now on, we’re officially married in Hawaii.”

  He’s stating something that legally I know isn’t true, but it feels tangible, like something we can hold onto, when here in paradise. We’ll always have Hawaii to connect us, to hold us together. He kisses the fourth finger on my left hand then slides a ring onto it.

  “Uh!” I gasp loud enough to draw surrounding attention. Cupping my hand over my mouth in surprise, I ask, “What is this?”

  “A present for you.” His answer seems simple, but there’s so much more weighted behind it after what we just shared.

  “But babe—”

  “Will you accept it?” He watches me with intent, trying to read my emotions through my reaction.

  I lean my head against his chest, staring at the rose gold Plumeria flower ring with a diamond in the center that’s now on my finger. “Absolutely. It’s beautiful, Evan. Thank you.”

  He rubs my back, tracing his finger down over my spine, then begins drawing circles on my lower back. “I’m glad you like it, and you’re welcome.”

  “I, uh,” I start to say, but stop to wipe at my eyes. “I love it. It’s perfect and thoughtful and uniquely paradise just like you.”

  Hope fills my heart as I stare at the ring like it’s the forbidden fruit I shouldn’t touch.

  He spins the ring around on my finger, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. His voice is low enough for only me to hear. “It looks good on your hand.”

  Touching his cheek with that hand, I say, “Evan, it’s stunning.”

  “Just like you, Mallory.”

  “It’s too much.” I shake my head. “You shouldn’t be spending—”

  “It wasn’t expensive and it doesn’t matter if it was. It’s something I wanted to give you, something to take back to Colorado with you.” I kiss him, eyes closed then stop with his lips paused against mine. He takes my face into his hands and a lone tear slides down my right cheek as he whispers, “No tears, okay. We’re in this together.”

  “Okay.” Only a one word response, but for now, that seems to be enough.

  17

  Mallory

  Small talk fills the boat ride back to the dock. As soon as Evan gets into the car, I ask, “Where to next?” I can’t help but be giddy. The boy is beyond amazing and romantic. I shouldn’t admit this, but I kind of do feel like a newlywed.

  “Waimea Canyon and then dinner before we have to catch our flight back.” He revs the engine and squeezes my knee. “You ready?”

  “So ready,” I answer nonchalantly, but really, him revving that engine is the equivalent to him revving my engine and listen to it purr. Geez fucking Louise, I might have to attack him while driving again. I try to restrain myself. It’s difficult because of the way he’s looking today.

  The drive is higher up on the island, so I’m thinking we’re going to get a bird’s eye view of this canyon when we get there. Upon arrival, the view does not disappoint. We stand against the barely there railing and stare out onto the great expanse of the canyon. Looking off to the right is the ocean in the distance and it’s spectacular. We take a lot of pictures of the two of us, together and separately. It’s fun to take the photos, but I know it’s really because we want to capture the moment just in case our memories fade and we never get the chance to make new ones to replace them.

  The wind is strong and Evan wraps his arms around me as we watch mountain goats play on the ledges and the random chicken walk by. The colors of the canyon vary from green to brown to rust to orange and I can distinctly smell the salt water in the air.

  Walking around the platform several times, we take in the view from all angles before deciding to leave. We’re hungry and have just enough time
to eat on Kauai before we have to catch our flight back to Oahu.

  As we drive back down the winding road, I ask, “You seem to know where you’re going. Have you been to Kauai a lot?”

  “A few times. Zach, Murphy, and I island hop for surfing when it’s breaking from a storm. Kauai has more undeveloped coastline, so the waves get pretty radical. Once Murphy…” My mind briefly wanders from his words to watch his animated movements and expressions. He’s so passionate about surfing that I’m still surprised he never pursued it like Noah.

  “…total rippage of the skin. It was nasty. His hairy back will cover the scar though. Hey, Mallory? You with me here?”

  “Oh, um… yeah, well, no actually. I kind of got lost in my thoughts for a moment. I’m sorry,” I apologize while rubbing his leg.

  “A hundred for your thoughts.”

  “A hundred? A hundred dollars? The saying is ‘A penny for your thoughts.’ Not a hundred.”

  He laughs. “I know, but it’s kind of an inside joke between me and Kate.”

  “I think you might be showing your spoiled side, Mr. Ashford.” I can tease him because he never acts above anyone else although we all know his family is loaded.

  “Oh really?” He smiles, grabbing my knee and squeezing playfully, but firmly.

  Squirming under his squeeze, I plead between giggles, “No, no, no, stop, Evan. That hurts.” I lie because I’m too ticklish to handle it.

  “If it hurts so much then why are you laughing so hard?”

  He releases as giggle tears fill my eyes. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.” His tone is serious and he pulls the car onto the side of the two lane road. His hand comes around to the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. Our lips are about to meet when he says, “I love you, Mallory Wray.” Leaving no option to return the sentiment, he presses his lips firmly against mine and begins exploring my mouth with his tongue.