Bad Boys for Hire_Ken_Hawaiian Holiday

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Bad Boys for Hire_Ken_Hawaiian Holiday Page 3

by Rachelle Ayala


  “Semantics, semantics,” Nikki said. “I don’t know how you’re going to sweep her off her feet with your sister hanging around. I can’t think of anything less romantic.”

  Ken bristled at Nikki’s cold-hearted assessment of his romantic quotient.

  “I have no trouble in the romance department, I assure you.” He picked up a slice of pineapple cake with coconut frosting. “Your friend doesn’t look like she wants to have a good time.”

  “Would you? After the most horrible thing that could ever happen to you?”

  “No, I guess not.” He well remembered the funk he’d been in after his concussion put him out of surfing competitions. “Maybe this is too soon. It takes time when you lose the love of your life.”

  “That’s just the point,” Nikki said. “He wasn’t the love of her life. Jolie was on a timetable to get things done. She’s very obsessive—OCD, you’ll see. Once she sets her mind to doing something, she’ll accomplish it, no matter what.”

  “Marriage isn’t an accomplishment,” Ken said, wondering where that had slipped out from. “But I understand. I lost my first love, surfing, to an accident, so I’m pursuing my second love, acting.”

  “Why don’t you concentrate on pursuing Jolie? It’ll hone your acting skills and help her have a happy honeymoon.” Nikki checked the box for her drink order and handed it to the attendant. “I’ll distract your sister and let you go in for the kill.”

  “Sure, but you have to tell me what she likes. I noticed she’s so busy helping my sister, she hasn’t gotten a morsel of food for herself.”

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Nikki said. “Oh, look, I see a group of Chinese tourists I want to go interview. Talk later.”

  With that, she sauntered off without looking back.

  Ken puffed out his chest and tried to look confident. He could do it. He didn’t need Miss Busybody Blogger to help him charm the jilted Jolie. Oh no, if he wanted to get the role of Romeo, he would have to put on the charm himself.

  Seven

  Jolie craned her neck to see where Nikki was off to. That woman never sat still. Neither could she keep her mind on the same man, flitting to and fro like a bumblebee.

  “Looks like your friend found people to talk to,” Carol said. “Thanks for helping me with the food. I’m still not used to life in a wheelchair.”

  “I’m sorry. It happened not long ago?” Jolie didn’t want to pry, but it was a heck of a lot easier talking to Carol than standing around wondering why Nikki was flirting with a man who was so obviously with another woman.

  “I was one of the hikers who fell off Mt. Baldy. My bad. I used to be a very accomplished hiker and rock climber.”

  Jolie put her hand on Carol’s and rubbed it. There was no ring on her finger.

  “It must be hard,” she mumbled. What was wrong with her? Checking a stranger’s finger for a ring. But then, she was only protecting Nikki, should she get involved with this attentive man who seemed so perfect.

  “I can’t pretend it’s not,” Carol said. “Not that I’m fishing for sympathy.”

  “Oh, no, I’m sure it’s a big adjustment. I can’t even imagine.” Jolie glanced at the direction of the buffet table, unable to keep her eyes off the man who was off-limits.

  His eyes locked with hers and even though he was walking toward them—correction, walking toward Carol, Jolie’s heart rate kicked up a notch.

  What would it feel like to have a man like that take care of her needs?

  “Is he your boyfriend or husband?” Jolie couldn’t help asking. “He seems so devoted to you.”

  Carol’s eyes narrowed and she grinned. “He is very devoted to me. Best brother ever.”

  “Buh-brother?” Jolie’s jaw dropped and all sorts of wild and crazy ideas jostled in her mind. Had Nikki tagged him first? Would it be too dirty if she swiped him? Or should she wait for her friend to take the first pass?

  “Let me introduce you properly,” Carol said, as her brother set the laden tray down. “Jolie, meet my devoted brother, Ken. He’s quite single, in case you were wondering.”

  “Oh, well, I wasn’t wondering.” Jolie gave Ken a nervous smile. “I mean, I’m kind of on my honeymoon. Not wondering at all.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Ken said, his smile gleaming sexy and sweet. “I’ve brought you a sample of each item on the buffet table.”

  “Kind of on your honeymoon?” Carol asked. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It means, I’m taking my honeymoon with Nikki, my friend.”

  “You mean your friend who’s over there flirting with the entire Chinese men’s gymnastics team?” Carol quirked an eyebrow in Nikki’s direction.

  “Oh, is that who they are?” Sweat prickled the back of Jolie’s neck at being so close to Ken. Now that she knew he was single, all sorts of possibilities opened.

  But wait. What kind of woman would she be if she could get involved or even think to get involved with someone so soon after being ready to marry another man?

  She tamped down her irrational thoughts and kept her attention on Carol. “Go ahead, eat. Don’t worry about me and my quasi-honeymoon.”

  “Aren’t you going to have anything?” Ken asked. “Try the lomi-lomi.”

  He pushed a plate filled with pink chunks of raw fish mixed with chopped tomatoes, jalapeños, and scallions.

  “I can’t have seafood,” Jolie said. “I’m also allergic to all shellfish.”

  “Oh, then, how about some kalua pork?” He pointed to another heaping plate.

  “I don’t eat pork,” Jolie said. “And no dairy either.”

  “Then try the potato salad.”

  “Does it have mayonnaise? I’m allergic to eggs.”

  “How about Hawaiian sweet rolls?”

  “They need to be gluten-free.”

  “Spinach salad with blood orange and macadamia nuts?”

  “Can’t have nuts,” Jolie replied. “Not any citrus.”

  “Okay …” Ken rearranged the plates. “Banana and papaya fruit salad?”

  “Ugh, no bananas either, sorry.” Jolie wrinkled her nose.

  “Can I ask a question?” Carol said, her mouth half full of food. “Why did you come to a luau if not to eat?”

  “Warren booked the luau,” Jolie said as her eyes threatened to tear up. “I should go and find my friend. You two carry on. Have fun. I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

  “Wait, don’t go.” Ken placed his hand on her arm. “Tell me what you can eat, and I’ll see if I can scare some of it up for you.”

  “I can’t let you go to the trouble,” Jolie said. “I’ll eat some of the watermelon or the chicken. Although I can’t have soy sauce. I can have broccoli and cucumbers. Lots of things. Avocados, too. But no yogurt or dairy products.”

  “Would you like a steak? Baked potato?”

  “Yes, yes, I’d love that. And broccoli, too.”

  Ken stood. “I’ll get some food you can eat.”

  “It might not be part of the luau,” Jolie said, hating her dietary restrictions. What a way to ruin anyone’s parade. Maybe that was why Warren decided to bail. Life with her would be full of food restrictions and watching out for allergic reactions.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Ken said. “I’ll put a special request to the kitchen. You’re a guest, and they need to accommodate you.”

  He leaned over, and for a moment, Jolie wondered if he would kiss her. It seemed so natural. Her man taking care of her.

  Ugh. She ought to slap herself. Ken definitely did not belong to her. He had his hands full with Carol, and once Nikki returned from interviewing the Chinese men’s gymnastics team, she was sure to claim him as her find of the day.

  She pried her eyes from his tantalizing backside and turned to Carol, shrugging apologetically. “I didn’t mean to waylay your brother. He seemed upset I couldn’t eat anything.”

  “He gets like that when there’s no wheelchair ramp, or people park in the handicapp
ed spots. I’m guessing he’s pissed your Warren booked a luau knowing you can’t eat half the things here.”

  “I was going to enjoy the show and let him eat,” Jolie admitted. “He planned the entire honeymoon. The only reason Nikki and I came was to laugh at him for not getting to go to any of the things he paid for.”

  “Ha, ha, ha,” Carol laughed and pounded the table. “Serves him right that you two are enjoying his poi, lomi-lomi, huli-huli, and mahi-mahi.”

  “It’s about the only joy I can take out of this crummy situation,” Jolie said.

  That and the fact handsome Ken had gone to the kitchen on her behalf. Maybe, her honeymoon wouldn’t be so bitter after all.

  Ken walked back into the luau with a waiter in tow. He picked up all of the uneaten dishes and piled them to the side as the waiter set a silver platter in front of Jolie.

  “Aloha,” Ken said, bending over her. “I believe you didn’t get a lei.”

  “Excuse me?” Her eyes tracked him, widening, and a hint of a smile tickled her cheeks, giving him all the reward he needed—for now.

  “You skipped the lei line, remember?” With a flourish, he produced a large and lush orange and white lei made of fiery orchids and pristine tuberoses. “This one matches your gorgeous hair.”

  “Oh, my. Thanks.” Jolie let him slip the lei over her head. “But this isn’t the free one they gave out. You didn’t have to.”

  “It’s your honeymoon, remember?” Ken grinned and took the opportunity to move her long, radiant hair from under the lei. “There’s nothing too good for the newly-freed bride.”

  “Newly-freed, ha, ha, I like that.” Jolie’s smile widened, but she looked down, seemingly embarrassed at her pleasure.

  “My lady.” The waiter opened the silver platter. “Enjoy your Steak Diane, roasted asparagus and portabella mushrooms with a baked potato. And a salad of broccoli, cranberries, and sunflower seeds—no mayonnaise, I used dill pickle juice and balsamic vinegar. Your friend was very specific.”

  “Ah, thanks. This is all too much.” Jolie clasped her hands in front of her chest.

  “Actually, there’s more.” Ken pulled a chair to sit close to her. “A bottle of Bordeaux. I took the liberty of choosing one for you.”

  “You sure know how to spoil a girl,” Jolie said, her face brightening. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and despite the circles under her eyes, probably from crying, she looked sweet and wholesome.

  He liked that about her. A woman who wasn’t vain, but was brave enough to come on the honeymoon she should have enjoyed with a new husband was quite a rare bird.

  Courage. That was the ingredient he’d been missing. His surfing accident and Carol’s hiking accident had squelched his “you only live once” spirit. But here with Jolie, a woman who’d been emotionally crushed, Ken saw a light at the end of that dark tunnel he’d been trapped in.

  He might not ever surf competitively again, but he could be happy for the small things in life—finding a meal for a woman plagued by allergies, helping his sister enjoy a vacation without dwelling on her legs, and doing good deeds. That was something a man suffering from a traumatic brain injury could do.

  Ken allowed the waiter to uncork the bottle and pour two glasses of wine. After the waiter departed, he picked up one of the wine glasses and proposed a toast.

  “To the most beautiful newly-freed bride. May aloha dwell in your heart.”

  She clinked her glass with his. “And yours, too. You kindhearted knight in shining armor.”

  “More like a tank and board shorts, but always your knight.” Heat rushed to his face. He was blatantly flirting with a woman who until a day ago, was someone else’s bride. Not that the jerk who ditched her deserved her, but still, he should slow down before he made her uncomfortable.

  They toasted and sipped the wine. After pouring a half glass for his sister, Ken dug in to enjoy some of the luau food. Beside him, Jolie bowed her head. Her lips moved with a silent prayer before digging into her steak.

  She cut the meat and broccoli into tiny pieces, and then lined them up, one alternating with the other. When she popped a piece into her mouth, she chewed twenty times before swallowing.

  She must have noticed him staring, because her cheeks pinked a moment later and she raised her head. “Thanks, Ken. You’re so kind.”

  “It’s the least I could do,” he started.

  “Please, I’m not a charity case. I’d like to think you did this to impress me.”

  “He did want to impress you,” Carol said from across the table. “My brother feels sorry he didn’t meet you before that douchebag you were supposed to marry did.”

  “Really?” Jolie twirled the piece of broccoli on her fork and looked at him sideways. “Maybe I’m happy I’m not married after all. I’m newly-freed, not newlywed.”

  “Ooh, la, la,” Carol said, fanning herself. “I better turn around and let you two get it on. The show’s about to start.”

  She turned her wheelchair to face the stage. The steady roll of drumbeats grew louder as women in grass skirts wiggled their way on stage in a frenzy of shaking and slapping.

  The lights dimmed and the announcer, a man wearing a circle of green leaves around his head and nothing else but a decorated cloth wrapped around his waist, welcomed the crowd.

  Ken took the opportunity to scoot closer to Jolie and put his arm over her shoulder. “I’m not feeling very sorry for myself right now. I hope you enjoy the show.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me, either.” She tilted her face toward him. She was so close he could feel her breath run across his lips. Her flowery scent and the perfume of the lei, the tang of wine across her lips, and the softness of her skin brought him back to a time when he was fearless, perched on the crest of fifty-foot waves, riding down the trough with the crash of white surf pouring over his head.

  Her lips met his in a perfect fit, and they were kissing, softly at first, then more eagerly—breathless and slippery. He covered her mouth possessively as she opened for him. Their tongues wrapped in an intimate embrace, dancing and swaying to the slow ballad of the welcome hula.

  He felt her smile as she wrapped a hand around his neck. Her tongue darted along his, and the tiny sounds she made were sexy as all get out. Lust and longing slammed him as hard as a rogue wave, and he slanted his head to drink in more of her sweet nectar.

  She made a strangled sound and froze, stiffening in his arms. Great. He’d moved too fast and ruined everything. What a douche he’d turned out to be.

  Ken instinctively broke the kiss and cupped Jolie’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  The whites of her eyes turned over, and she clutched her throat, gasping for air. All he could hear was a tiny wheeze as she fell backward, shuddering and trying to cough.

  “My purse,” she managed to say. “EpiPen. Shot.”

  “Did she eat peanuts?” Carol asked, turning her chair toward them. By now, a crowd of people gathered, and all Ken could do was hold onto Jolie, supporting her on his lap.

  “Get her EpiPen,” Nikki said, barging through the crowd. She swiped Jolie’s purse and in a flash, she uncapped the medical device and plunged the needle into Jolie’s thigh.

  A lady sitting at their table hurried to his side. “I’m a doctor. We have to get her to the emergency room. Is she allergic to peanuts?”

  “Yes,” Nikki said. “But she never eats them. I don’t see how she got any into her system.”

  “It’s my fault,” Ken admitted, still holding onto Jolie who was coughing and wheezing. “I munched on a few cocktail peanuts when I went to get her food.”

  “And then what? You gave her the kiss of death?” Nikki stared at him, wide-eyed and angry. “How could you be so careless? You’re supposed to wine and dine her, not kill her.”

  Eight

  “It wasn’t Ken’s fault,” Jolie said to Nikki back in their high rise hotel room. “He didn’t know.”

  She’d been doped up with antihistamines and had been chec
ked out at the Emergency Room. Thankfully, the EpiPen had done the job, and other than a rash and residual swelling of her lips and tongue, she was good to retire for the night.

  “Didn’t you taste peanuts on his breath?” Her friend knit her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes. “What were you thinking, kissing a guy you just met?”

  Jolie hesitated. Nikki looked so angry. She had probably marked Ken for herself. But then, she was an incessant flirt without seeming like it. Yep, that innocent line about interviewing for her blog always worked.

  “He kissed me. I was sitting there eating my steak and potatoes, watching the show." Jolie shrugged. “I’m sorry. I know you had your eye on him, but no one told you to run after the entire Chinese Olympic team.”

  “Well … if you really like him, I’m sure I’ll recover,” Nikki said, patting Jolie’s hand. “So tell me, how was the kiss? Is he as hot and luscious as he looks?”

  “You sure you want to know?” Jolie could never figure out where Nikki stood with the flirtations of her life.

  “Of course, I want you to be happy, and it seemed like you two were getting into it before you started choking. I mean, my body temperature rose to heatstroke levels, and well, sorry, but the entire Chinese Olympic team, as you put it, were taking pictures and videos. You two could audition for America’s Hottest Couple. Whew.”

  There she went again, putting her journalistic spin on everything. Jolie changed the subject, not wanting to make more of the kiss than she had to, at least before she had time to think about it. “We have to get up early if we want to hike Diamond Head tomorrow before it gets too hot.”

  “You sure you want to retrace Warren’s plan? Why don’t we do our own thing?”

  “I’m sticking to the itinerary,” Jolie said firmly.

  “Why? He’s not even here.” Nikki checked her cell phone. “Besides, Ken and Carol might want to do something else.”

  “Wait, I didn’t know we were hanging out with them.” Jolie wasn’t sure whether to feel excited or afraid. “I don’t want things to get funny between you and me, about Ken, you know.”

 

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