Knocked Up By The Doc Box Set (A Secret Baby Romance)

by Claire Adams

  "If you're hungry after your trip, there are seven restaurants and bars for you to choose from, open ’til ten o'clock. The bars remain open ’til eleven pm. The option of in-room dining is available, as well, if you'd prefer," she said. "You must have had a long flight."

  "It was okay," I said absently.

  "The spa is open between eight am and eight pm. You can book appointments yourself or you can phone the concierge to do it for you, if you need to unwind after your journey," she suggested. I grunted in response. It was nice of her to say, but I wasn't interested in getting a massage. "It might be what you need before your day tomorrow."

  "My day tomorrow?" I asked.

  "There are so many things to do; you aren't spending three months in your suite, are you? It's a nice suite, but look where we are," she said.

  I smirked a little. She sounded more excited about my vacation than I even was. This must have been fun for her. This job. Gotta respect someone who was doing something they loved and was doing it well.

  "Guess I can't spend all my time inside if I came all the way here, can I?"

  "Of course not," she said, looking back to smile at me. She started rattling off a list of things I could do at the Four Seasons Lanai. Golf, snorkeling, and hiking. Horseback riding, nature tours, water sports. Things I didn't particularly care for, but the way she said them made me think they were worth checking out.

  We quickly got to the room. She slid the card into the slot and opened the room. I followed her inside. I had known it was going to be a nice place, but I hadn't booked the room myself. Casey had, and I'd never bothered to look at any pictures online. I got the Presidential Suite at every hotel I stayed at, but this was basically an apartment.

  "You're a lucky man, Mr. Stone. You have the best room in the house," she said walking in ahead of me. "There is just one bed, but you can request for another. You have two full bathrooms, a private terrace, and prime oceanfront views of the Marine Sanctuary and Hulopoe Beach. In-room dining is twenty-four hours, and housekeeping comes by twice daily." I followed her, taking it in.

  The living area looked like it was big enough for a family to use. There was a dining table, couches, and a television. A piano was against one wall close to the entrance. It opened up to the terrace, which overlooked the beach.

  "So what do you think?" she asked.

  "It's nice," I said appreciatively.

  "It is, but hopefully you won't be spending too much time up here. The beach is accessible all day. You have full, free access to the tennis courts and fitness center, and the island adventure center is open between seven and six, where we can arrange day long excursions to different parts of the island." I nodded, listening to her. I hadn't really come here to have an island adventure, but I liked her enthusiasm. She made me almost want to sign up for something.

  "Thank you. This is great. I appreciate it."

  "If you need anything, I'm downstairs all day, every day. If I'm not at the desk, just ask the person you find there for Abby," she said. I said I would and watched her leave, leaving my key card on a table by the door.

  I looked around the suite: my home for the next three months. I rolled my suitcase into the bedroom. It was decorated the same way the living space was, with a massive television on the wall and a pair of sliding glass doors that opened out to the terrace. I took my hoodie off and lay down, face up on the bed. Comfy. I could get used to this place.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and realized I hadn't taken it off of airplane mode. You didn't really have to do that when you were flying, but I liked to since it was a good excuse to ignore people who were trying to reach you. The minute I was plugged back in, I saw the missed calls and text messages from Kirsten. Why was she so damn persistent? I knew better than to read them this time and deleted them all.

  What was the fucking point, though? Where the hell did I have to go to get away from it all? What if it didn't even matter? I'd always have that bitch breathing down my neck. I'd leave Hawai'i and everything back in LA would just be worse. She'd sue me for more money. The label wouldn't let me out of my contract. Everyone in the band would start hating each other. What if I couldn't fix it?

  I sat up. I was too anxious to stay in one place. I needed to do something. I needed something to calm me down. I looked out at the beach. Now seemed like a good time for a drink.

  Chapter Four

  Abby

  Our shifts wrapped up at around seven thirty at night. Since it was still early in the season, the day hadn't been that stressful. I never really left work feeling drained or like I just wanted to pass out until the next day.

  I was still on a high from meeting Nate Stone. I wasn't innocent. I'd absolutely imagined what it would be like to meet him and the other members of Remus, but since I had, I wasn't sure what I thought anymore.

  He hadn't been mean or anything. He just hadn't been what I had expected. As a person who had only really met him for the first time that day, I knew quite a lot about him. Not on a private level, but I listened to his music, and his lyrics were deeply personal. Anybody could find out his birthday, height, and weight on the internet if they really wanted to. He was a public figure. People wrote about him, therefore people knew about him, whether or not they actually really knew him.

  It was weird. I felt like I was looking at this face that was so familiar to me, and this person I felt like knew a lot about, but talking to me, he just seemed like a guy who was tired from a long flight and wanted to rest in his hotel room. After leaving him in his suite, I'd come back down and told Makani who he was.

  Nate Stone, yup, the same one whose music I was always making her listen to. We were talking about what had happened that day when she remembered.

  She had just been doing her job, checking in another guest, and I had been standing there trying very hard not to make a fool out of myself. I had been a little surprised when she said I'd walk him up to his suite. It made sense, thinking about it later, that I would do it since it was me Joseph had asked to make sure his suite was ready for him.

  It was just still a little surreal, even though we'd talked and he was indeed a normal human being just like all the rest of us. It was Nate Stone. I had had him so built up in my head as this beautiful guy who wrote amazing music, and my first encounter with him had to be when he'd gotten off a long flight and wanted a nap.

  Maybe I should have let her do it since I'd been a little star-struck talking to him. He hadn't made it awkward, just hard to have a conversation since he hadn't seemed to have much to say. It had sort of felt like he had been waiting for me to finally shut up and leave so he could get in the shower and go to sleep or something.

  "You were up there for a little while. What happened with that guy? The band guy you like?" Makani asked as we left the resort.

  "I was just showing him around the suite. Telling him what he could do. How he could discover Lanai, the usual stuff."

  "This guy's like your idol, right? How was he?"

  "I wouldn't call him my idol," I said, smiling at her. "I just like his music. He was fine. Sort of quiet. Obviously, you saw him, too. Very hot."

  "The truth comes out. You don't love him for his talent. You love him because you want to give him his firstborn child," she laughed, teasing me. I felt myself blushing. She wasn't doing this to me; she had seen him, too.

  He had some scruff on his chin, a nice hard jawline, and deep hazel eyes. His hair was dark brown, sort of like Makani's. Longish, but not long enough to cover his face. Nate Stone was a cute guy. I wasn't the only one who thought so. He was really tall, and he looked like he worked out a lot, even through the hoodie he had been wearing. I also knew that one of his arms was covered in tattoos. His looks and image did nothing to hurt his band's popularity, but he was actually a really talented guy.

  "I didn't hear you disagree," I said pointedly. She laughed.

  "All right, maybe I saw it a little," she said. "He's good looking if you like that sort of brooding, bad
-boy type."

  I never got shy talking about guys with Makani. I wasn't a big dater, but we worked at a beach resort. Guys had their shirts off in front of us most of the time. A lot of the time, those guys were pretty cute. I was attracted to Nate Stone, but who knew about Remus and wasn't? I didn't need to sound like a crazy fan who'd try to steal his dirty clothes when he sent them to the laundry.

  "Did you say anything to him?" she asked.

  "What? No. He's here on vacation. He didn't come here to get bothered by fans."

  "You didn't have to bother him. Just tell him you knew who he is and you enjoy his work."

  "No, I'm glad I didn't say anything. He didn't seem like he really wanted to chat. He's here alone for a long time; that sounds like someone who's trying to get away."

  "From what? He's a famous musician. I'd say that was the life," Makani quipped. I saw what she meant, but she hadn’t been there when I was talking to him. The only reason I could think of why he had come on vacation and for such a long time was because he wanted to get away from everything. He probably didn't get the kind of privacy he could get here when he was at home.

  Either that, or he wanted time alone to create, which was really exciting. He was a songwriter, so maybe he was here to have some time to put music together because Remus was getting back together and releasing new music?

  In either case, he had come here alone, most likely because that was what he wanted to be: alone. Maybe if he seemed a little more at ease, I'd mention that I enjoyed his music. I really wanted to tell him. His music and lyrics were good, and he deserved to know. It felt sort of silly, but his band's music meant a lot to me. I didn't feel like I was just a fan, but that's probably how every fan felt.

  "He and his band just separated not that long ago; he probably just wants a break from the drama. Somewhere he can just be a normal person." Somewhere nobody knew who he was, and he could pretend what he'd left behind didn't exist. I understood if that was what he wanted to do. I could relate.

  "So you just won't tell him?" she asked. I thought about it.

  "If he asked me, I wouldn't lie and say I'd never heard his music, but I'm not going to say anything first. He's on vacation. I don't want to be the reason he has to be on the lookout for photographers or people who are going to try to mob him."

  "Guess he's lucky he chose Lanai," Makani quipped. She asked me whether I wanted to go out to eat that night. Her treat. The sun had gone down, but the night was warm and a little balmy.

  The nightlife here on Lanai had been the only one I'd ever experienced. Before moving, I'd been too young to go to clubs. Most of the places we went to have a good time were accessible by the beach, so we didn't have to drive or walk the streets.

  We had changed out of our uniforms at the hotel. We had the option to eat there, too, but decided to go out. The food at the hotel was great, but it was for tourists. Good, but not authentic. There was a lot of really fancy, gourmet food and fine dining.

  It was nothing like the stuff you'd get at a luau that was simple and delicious, made by people who'd been taught to cook by their families, not a culinary school. I didn't pretend I could cook Hawai'ian food, but I liked to think I'd eaten enough to know when it was good or not.

  The food had been one of the biggest changes that I'd had to deal with when I moved here. We didn't tend to get a lot of poke in Rochester, Texas. Four years in, and I could eat my weight in lomi-lomi salmon any day of the week.

  After stopping by my place and driving back to hers in the city to drop her car off, we decided we'd go to a little restaurant her friend owned. We walked there from her house since it was only about ten minutes away.

  Unless you knew about the place, you wouldn't be able to find it. It didn't have a big lit-up sign outside or a line around the block. The only tourists you saw in there were the ones who had been smart enough to get a local to tell them where to get real Hawai'ian food.

  Anybody going there for the first time would probably think eating there would be some sort of health hazard. Calling it a dive bar was generous. The five tables in the fairly small square room had chairs all the way around, so if you were eating there, you were eating with strangers. A lot of people just stood eating by the bar. All the plates were mismatched, and the glasses were plastic. It was like eating in your thrifty grandmother's house — if she happened to make the most delicious food you'd ever had in your life.

  Makani's friend, Mamo, was older than us, but they'd known each other since Makani was a teenager. We ate there pretty often. His chicken long rice was what I would request as my last meal before I passed.

  Sitting there with Makani and a bunch of people who'd become my friends by the time we left was one of the reasons I loved Lanai. I'd lived in a small town before coming here, too. I loved being able to point out my neighbors and know them all by name. I loved how even though tourism was the major economic activity here, there was a homey, family vibe to the local spots around the island.

  We ended up sitting at a table with some guys who ran boat trips through the marine reserve for tourists. We ordered our food and laughed with them, drinking cocktails. One of them was a man about forty years old who always hit on Makani, but she always turned him down. He was married. We knew his wife, but as far as we knew, he only did it for a bit of fun.

  The people at our table changed a few times during our meal. At one point, this man, probably the only tourist in there, walked up to us and offered to buy me a drink.

  He had a European accent and was pretty sunburned, around maybe his mid-thirties, speaking pidgin badly. I only let him buy me one if he got one for Makani, too. He brought us the drinks and talked with us for a while before leaving when it was clear neither of us was going to end up leaving with him. Makani watched him weave through the crowd and walk out the door.

  "I think we just ruined his night," she said.

  "He was only in here for one thing. He probably asked someone to tell him where a good place to pick up local girls was."

  "He had his eye on you since he came in," she said. I scowled.

  "Not my type."

  "I don't think your type even exists, Abby," she said, taking a sip of her drink.

  "I've liked guys before," I said defensively.

  "I know you have. You just don't talk to them, date them, or let them take you out."

  I shrugged. Not all a lie. In fact, mostly true. Okay. All true. It wasn't that I didn't have a type or that I thought Lanai was too small. I had heard the rumors about me and Makani. A lot of people, especially people who didn't know her very well, thought we were together. I didn't do anything to necessarily dispute those rumors because it wasn't a big deal, but I could see why they had started in the first place. I just couldn't do it.

  The thought of dating scared me a little. I hadn't seen enough stable, rewarding relationships to really want to be involved in one. Not even at home. Especially not at home.

  Both of my parents were dead. My father, last I had checked, was actually still alive, but he might have died in the years since. Even if he hadn't, he was as good as dead to me. I didn't even have his name anymore. My mother was in a better place now; I knew she was dead. She had died in front of me.

  It had been years since it had happened, and Makani knew. Of course, I had told her. What she didn't know was that it was the main reason why I never dated. Before, it had been even worse. I wouldn't even talk to guys right after it had happened. Now, I could flirt and had even had a hookup or two, but never dated. I never kept a guy around long enough to show me his true colors.

  I thought about saying it, but why would I ruin such a good night with something like that? It had all happened a long time ago, and I was still healing from it. One day, it wouldn't affect me at all. I was hopeful. Until then, everyone on the island could be jealous of my gorgeous wife. I changed the subject, not wanting to bring the tone down.

  "Are you tired tonight, or did you want to do something after this?" I asked her.
>
  "There should be a party on the beach not far from your place."

  "Party like hotel party?"

  "No, all guys from the city. You want to go?" she asked. I said I did.

  It was at a place not that far from my house, a house where I knew a bunch of guys who had moved here from Los Angeles lived. It was a pretty big place, but they shared it. Everyone was in the back on the beach when we got there.

  There were plenty of familiar faces. A lot of people had been there longer than us, so they were already a little drunk. There was music playing and people grouped together having a good time.

  People stumbled up to us asking us where we'd been and how we were. A number of them worked with us at the hotel or at other resorts on the island. Even if they didn't do it all year round, they tended to get jobs taking tourists on hikes and things like that to take advantage of the seasonal jobs they brought with them.

  We got ourselves drinks and walked out onto the beach. I counted maybe twenty to thirty people at the party, not many at all, but everyone knew each other. Doing things like this meant we could still have fun on our own island while the tourists flooded the bars and lounges. I appreciated the industry, hell, I worked in it, but I understood wanting to be around your friends.

  At work, you had to be polite and accommodate strangers. Here, you could speak pidgin and let your hair down.

  "Oh no," I heard Makani mumble under her breath.

  "What is it?" I asked. I looked around and saw what had changed her mood so fast. Living on such a small, tightly-knit island was a good thing, most of the time. Knowing everyone was nice, except when you had someone to avoid.

  Keno and Makani had dated, and their relationship and ended abruptly almost two months ago. It was so sudden, you could have blinked and missed it. She completely cut him off one day, and it had taken days for her to tell me what had gone wrong. I knew what was wrong now, though; she had spotted him, and if he had seen us, too, he was going to come over.