Dive Into You

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Dive Into You Page 7

by Chris Keniston


  “No, not at all,” Kara muttered.

  Emily couldn’t manage anything more than a shake of her head.

  “If you’re sure?” The hesitation in Maggie’s words showed she’d recognized the tension at the table that Angela had been so oblivious to.

  “We’re sure.” Still smiling, Angela pointed to the empty seat beside Emily while Doug reached for another chair. Except, much to Emily’s chagrin, instead of Maggie taking the seat next to her, she sat in the one Doug pulled to the table, leaving Emily all too aware of the sexy and otherwise involved male forced to occupy the seat at her side.

  “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

  Five small words in that now familiar low rumble was all it took to send tingles down Emily’s spine. “Yes, they have really good food here.”

  “Good to know.” Doug’s head bobbed.

  “What do you recommend?” Maggie asked them.

  “Love the Sesame Chicken,” Angela responded.

  “The Shrimp in Lobster Sauce is to die for,” Kara chimed in.

  Doug looked to Emily. “Any recommendations?”

  “I’m partial to the Orange Chicken.”

  The waitress appeared, glancing at the new arrivals. “Shall I get you a menu?”

  “I know what I want.” Maggie ordered the Shrimp in Lobster Sauce; Angela ordered her dessert. Kara settled for tea. Emily gave in and ordered the macadamia cheesecake as well. And eyes twinkling with sex appeal, Doug smiled up at the waitress. “I’ll try the Orange Chicken.”

  The woman blinked, then batted her lashes at him. “I’ll get that right out.”

  Emily bet, if he’d asked, the waitress would cook the meal herself too. As a matter of fact it was beginning to dawn on Emily that there might not be a female alive who wouldn’t succumb to that dazzling smile. Her brother’s warnings echoed in her mind. But damn if she didn’t care. One night with her brother’s former teammate had been more than she’d expected in so many ways when she’d picked him up at the wedding. Not Magnolia Maplewood nor the flustered waitress nor Billy’s protective nature were going to stop her from getting to know more about Doug Hamilton.

  * * *

  “You like her, don’t you?”

  Doug didn’t have to ask who Magnolia meant. “I like a lot of women.”

  The attractive blonde grinned and shrugged. He had the feeling she knew much more than even he did. “I’m driving the silver Toyota.” She pointed ahead to her left.

  In the dive shop parking lot, Doug pulled into the empty space beside the designated car. As Magnolia sat in the car gathering her purse and leftovers, he hurried around to open the door for her and briefly wondered what was this elegant woman’s story.

  “Thank you for joining me.” She slid gracefully out of the car.

  “Anytime you need company for dinner, you can count on me.” If he’d been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it. He stood in place waiting for her to start her car and drive off. Long since she’d pulled away, he stared after the silver Toyota, his mind not on the attractive blonde but on the pretty brunette who had sat beside him at dinner. Quietly eating her cheesecake, taking the tiniest bites of the delectable confection and making him desperately want to nibble on her the way she’d nibbled on her dessert.

  But once again he reminded himself any further contact with Billy’s sister would be more than ill advised.

  “You planning on standing out here all night?” Billy leaned against the shop doorway.

  “I thought you were doing the night dive with Nick?”

  “I was, but Jonathan asked to swap for tomorrow night.”

  “Ah. Hot date?”

  Billy shook his head, not in a negative reply so much as in dismay, then turned into the shop. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you’re a bad influence on him, but you haven’t been here that long.”

  “You’re just jealous.” Doug followed his friend to the office.

  “No chance. My girl-in-every-port days are long gone. You can have them. Angela is the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’m damn lucky she’s willing to marry me.” Billy opened the office fridge. “Want a beer?”

  “Thanks.”

  Unscrewing the tops from two beers, Billy handed one to him. “Nick tells me you’re not planning on staying very long?”

  “Taking it one day at a time. Is that a problem?”

  “No. I told you, as long as you want the job, it’s yours.” Billy took a sip from the longneck bottle. “You know if you need anything more—”

  Doug shook his head and busied his mouth with a long swallow before the words your sister slipped out.

  Knowing what he’d done with Billy’s sister made sitting in Billy’s office over a beer like the buddies they’d always been damn difficult. Any minute now Doug expected Billy to call Doug on it. Then beat the crap out of him for betraying a trust. Even if he hadn’t known at the time that he was. It had to show on his face that he was both on a fantastic-night high and tormented by who he’d had the fantastic night with.

  Now he had two things to deal with. Staying away from one Emily Everrett—she didn’t need to get involved with a guy like him. And keeping a low profile around his boss and buddy until he could squash the feeling of guilt. Neither one was going to be easy. Especially staying away from a woman who, at every turn, intrigued him more and more. Defusing an unexploded bomb looked to be way easier.

  * * *

  Latent tingles lingered under Emily’s skin reminding her of Doug Hamilton’s touch much the way an aftershock reminded its residents of a life-changing earthquake. Over an hour ago she’d returned from dinner with the girls—and the unexpected addition of Doug and Magnolia Maplewood—and, considering how much of that time she’d spent thinking of Doug, she might as well still be sitting next to him.

  She’d pretty much convinced herself the whole buddy-and-little-sister taboo was ridiculous. Emily had known about it since the day she was old enough to flirt with her brother’s cute navy friends. Or trying to flirt. Leaping to the conclusion the buddy code had been the reason Doug had hurried out of here with her students yesterday had been easy. But not having known who she was at the wedding, the unspoken pact of keeping sisters at arm’s length wouldn’t explain why he hadn’t said something to her Sunday morning about not being a destination wedding guest but an island resident. Even if he was a new resident.

  And realizing that had her debating what to do. There’d been no real thought when she’d propositioned Doug to skip out on the wedding party with her. And no expectations. She’d thought him to be an out-of-town guest, who she couldn’t take her eyes off of, and that one night was all she’d get. Which was fine since bringing a total stranger home to her bed was not her standard MO anyhow. Her entire life Emily had been a sensible and reasonably responsible human being. She’d not only earned the degree that her parents had wanted for her but had gone further and obtained a postgraduate degree as well. Since high school she’d followed her father’s archaic rules of dating and, even after graduating from college, hadn’t strayed far from the standard he’d set for her. And the few men she’d dated long enough to sleep with, she’d always practiced safe—and now she thought perhaps a little boring—sex.

  And wasn’t that the symptom of her whole world. In some ways she felt more like she’d been practicing having a safe life rather than actually living. Escaping for one night with Doug had seemed like the first step in truly exploring life. What did it matter really that he hadn’t asked to see her again at breakfast? Or at her apartment? Or at the restaurant? Well, he was with another woman at the restaurant. But still…

  Her cell phone sounded with the ring tone assigned to her mother, and she was saved from once again beating around the what-to-do-about-Doug dilemma for the hundredth time. At least for as long as her mother kept her talking, because, like it or not, every time she glanced down the hall to her bedroom, another tingle rushed up her arms and brought her back to debating what was she g
oing to do about Doug Hamilton?

  Chapter Nine

  “Are you completely crazy” tumbled over “What has gotten into you?” and an “Attagirl.”

  At the corner table of their favorite restaurant, Emily, Angela, Kara and Lexie sat eating, gabbing and laughing like schoolgirls. The minute Lexie and her new husband had touched ground in Honolulu from their short honeymoon, Jim and his team were shipped out on a new mission. So only a week after her whirlwind wedding, Lexie had grabbed the next flight to Kona with plans to stay on until his return. And Emily was extremely thankful she was here, since neither Kara nor Angela appeared inclined to get on board with Emily’s newfound philosophy of saying yes more often and not missing out on living, and she was pretty sure Lexie had been the one to offer the attagirl. “See? She understands.”

  “She”—Kara pointed with her thumb to Lexie—“has always been a little crazy.”

  “Nonsense.” Lexie put down her fork. “Skydiving is no different than scuba diving. For one, a person jumps out of a plane and, for the other, off a boat.”

  Kara’s jaw dropped. “You can’t seriously compare plummeting to Earth at over one hundred miles an hour from thousands of feet in the air to going for a swim sixty feet underwater?”

  “If something goes wrong,” Lexie continued, “sixty feet underwater is as deadly as sixty feet in the sky.”

  “That would be ten thousand feet in the sky,” Angela corrected. “And that’s the whole point. What if something goes wrong?”

  “And what if you get hit by a bus crossing the street?” Lexie crossed her arms and tilted her head at her good friend.

  “I suppose,” Angela muttered, “skydiving might be better than taking off for Spain to run with the bulls. At least you’re close to home if we need to visit you in intensive care.”

  Emily refrained from rolling her eyes but made a mental note to add travel to her list.

  “So”—Lexie brushed her hands together—“now that we’ve settled that, what else has happened while I’ve been gone?”

  “Not that much happens around here in week.” Kara rubbed her belly. “Junior here doesn’t seem to like tomatoes.”

  “Which explains the Alfredo pizza,” Lexie said.

  “Even with helping throw together your wedding in a couple of days for practice, having weeks to put mine together isn’t proving to be any easier,” Angela added. “On top of that, the tenant I have lined up for my place wants to move in sooner than expected.”

  “How much sooner?” Kara asked.

  “A week before the wedding.”

  Lexie’s fork stopped midway to her mouth. “If you need a place to stay, you can have my spare room. I’d let you have my master bedroom, but, depending on how long Jim is gone, I may still be here.”

  “Jim will be gone that long?” Kara asked.

  Lexie shrugged. “He didn’t know. But either way, the guest room is yours.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Angela blushed. “Billy and I talked it over. This guy comes very well recommended and is willing to sign a two-year lease. It’s too good an opportunity to lose so I’m just going to move in with Billy now, and the apartment will be ready for the guy whenever he wants.”

  Forks clinked against the dishes, and all eyes at the table lifted to meet Angela’s.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” three voices echoed.

  “Then why do I feel like the cat who just stumbled into the dog kennel?”

  “You wouldn’t move in with him before,” Emily started, “so we just didn’t expect you to break with that particular tradition now.”

  “Yeah, well. Things change.” She laughed. “So. Tell Lexie about the new guy.”

  “New guy?” Lexie repeated with a gleam in her eye.

  For a really sweet girl, Angela was worse than a pit bull with a bone. At least Emily had nothing to hide. Sort of. “I met a guy at your wedding. We got along really well.”

  “Really well.” Angela winked. “If you know what I mean.”

  “And?” Lexie prodded.

  “And nothing. We’ve gone our separate ways.” As tempted as she’d been every day this past week to go to the dive shop and accidentally bump into Doug, the truth was, no matter how much she professed wanting to grab the bull by the horns and live a little, she was still too traditional. Chasing after a guy she’d picked up at a wedding, had smoldering hard-to-forget sex with, but had parted ways without exchanging last names or phone numbers was a little too bold even for her new mantra.

  “Should I have Jim beat him up?” Lexie teased.

  “Hey.” Angela perked up. “That’s a great idea. We’ll get all our guys together. Teach the creep a lesson for not sticking around.”

  Quietly from her seat, Kara seemed to be studying Emily but hadn’t volunteered to send Nick to beat up the guy. Of course she was the only person who knew the guy in question was actually everyone’s buddy, Doug. “Speaking of lessons”—Kara blessedly shifted the topic of conversation—“how are rehearsals coming along?”

  “Wonderful.” Finally conversation Emily could get enthused about. “The kids are doing a great job. As always.”

  “And those teens? Are they still using your place for homework?” Kara asked.

  “Nope. Just that one time.”

  “And if I were you, I’d keep it that way.” Kara leaned back. “There’s nothing in the teacher contract that says you can’t have a couple of kids working on a project at your home, but no one worried about serving drive-through hot coffee either until a customer spilled it in their lap.”

  “And sued.” Angela frowned.

  “I don’t think this is going to be a habit.” Emily wasn’t about to go into a long explanation about how she’d been giving Tim a little extra attention since the first time she’d seen him helping one of the freshmen students struggling with homework. His fingers had flown across the keyboard of the older laptop, and, when he was done, the other student was able to finish the project, grinning all the way. Before she knew it, she’d found herself always circling around the bashful teen, praising his work, asking questions and making sure he knew she believed in him. Especially since she didn’t think he got much support from home. If letting him use her computer would encourage him in any way, she was all for it.

  “Oh, crud.” Angela glanced at her cell. “I’m supposed to meet Billy at the shop. We’re due at your mother’s to go over the seating charts for your side of the family.”

  “I’m right behind you.” Lexie signaled for the waiter to bring the checks. “I told Billy that I’d man the shop tonight.”

  Kara fished through her purse. “You’ve been back less than twenty-four hours, and already the men are completely dependent on you again.”

  “Again?” Angela handed the waiter her credit card. “They never stopped. They’ve just been waiting for Jim to be called out on a mission. I think they’re thanking the heavens it was sooner than later.”

  “I had a nice little manager-to-man chat with both Nick and Billy this morning. He’s putting an ad in the paper to find my replacement so I can help train him or her. When I said I’d help out whenever I was in town, I meant with the dive runs. The guys have to get a new full-time manager.”

  “Mom and I have been telling him that since the day you and Jim announced your plans to marry. We might as well have been speaking Greek,” Emily said.

  Angela laughed. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

  Keys and purses in hand, the four women filed out of the restaurant. Good-byes said in the parking lot, Emily wished she had a good excuse to go with Lexie and Angela to the shop. With each passing day the temptation to pop in to visit her brother and maybe run into Doug had been mounting. And each day she’d talk herself out of it.

  Today would be easy. She had papers to correct and laundry to do. Or maybe she should be a nice sister and go to Mom’s and backup big brother. Maile Everrett would want to invite every person she’d ever m
et to the wedding of her firstborn child. Actually she’d probably want to invite everyone on the island whether she knew them or not. Figuring out a seating chart to keep apart friendly enemies could easily become a nightmare unless someone reined in her mother.

  Her mind made up, Emily turned the car around and crossed the parking lot to the east exit. Stopping at the light, she glanced away and spotted the sleek red sports car. Doug. He had to be inside the Surf’s Up Saloon. Before her brother’s injury it had been one of Billy’s favorite haunts. Nick’s too until he’d married Kara. Nick had even rented the apartment above the bar before he’d returned from Texas with his young son.

  The red light lingered; her fingers drummed the steering wheel, and her weeklong inner debate was on again. Worrying her lower lip, she cast a sideways glance at the neon lights in the bar’s window. Should she or shouldn’t she? The light turned green, and the impatient car behind her tooted his horn. Why was everyone in such a hurry?

  * * *

  “Don’t Stop Believin’” began playing loudly through the crowded bar. The place did a brisk happy hour business any day of the week, but tonight few people appeared in any rush to go home. The bubbly blonde beside Doug shimmied in her seat, keeping time with the peppy tune. Jonathan had long ago disappeared into a corner booth with his new girlfriend. She’d seemed a bit ditzy for Doug’s liking, but he wasn’t the one who’d been locking lips with her the last hour or so.

  Having bought the shimmying young lady beside him the bar’s famed tequila-loaded Dragon’s Breath, Doug wasn’t at all surprised she was feeling very happy. She and her friend had confiscated the stools abandoned by Jonathan and the ditz before they’d had a chance to cool. Her friend, who’d ordered the Jade Lady, was scanning the joint looking for something, or more likely someone, of interest. But Miss Shimmy, also known as Cathy, had been flashing her pearly whites at Doug.

  Hence why he’d picked up the tab for her drink. She had just enough curve to catch a man’s eye. And despite the naturally blonde roots, the woman could carry on a decent conversation. Though like labor pains, the giggles and grins were coming closer together and lasting much longer. His mind spiraled back in time to a day too many years ago with true pains of labor. He’d been only six when he’d come home from school and found his mother doubled over on the floor. At first he’d thought his dad had been to blame, but then he spotted the wet puddle beneath her and knew this was something different. Just the way he’d been taught at school, he’d dialed 9-1-1 and waited for the police to come help. Back in those days he still believed the system were the good guys.

 

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