Bad Boys for Hire_Ken_Hawaiian Holiday

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Bad Boys for Hire_Ken_Hawaiian Holiday Page 11

by Rachelle Ayala


  He grabbed the receiver, but all he got was a dial tone. Too late. “They hung up. I doubt it was her.”

  “Hmmm …” Carol wheeled herself to the telephone and hit the call log. “Whoever called you has been calling nonstop. Why don’t you call them back?”

  Ken’s heart pulsed in his chest and he licked his dry lips. The number was local, but it was not Jolie’s cell phone, unless she had gotten another one. There wasn’t a moment that he didn’t want to text her, to check up on her, or to hear her voice, but he had to let her be. She was never as into him as he was into her. His feelings were real—she just said it back to him because she felt guilty for the surprise she’d pulled on him.

  “Well?” Carol prompted. “I’ll go to my room and close the door.”

  As soon as Carol’s door closed, Ken picked up the phone and hit redial. A man answered after three rings. “Hello, this Ken Cassidy?”

  “Yep.” A weight dropped over Ken’s shoulders and he swiped his hand through his hair. “What can I do for you?”

  “Tucker Scott, Beach Bommie’s Board Sports. I saw you the day before yesterday surfing with a handicapped woman, and I’d like you two to do some modeling for our new line of beach wear and accessories. Who’s the young lady, by the way?”

  “My sister, Carol. I’ll need to check with her though.”

  “Of course,” Tucker said. “We’d also like to get videos of her strapped to your back and surfing something bigger than the ankle biters at Waikiki. You think you’re up for the North Shore?”

  Ken swallowed and pressed his lips together while Tucker explained that the human interest side of their story would make them more than just sportswear models, but also inspiration for others with disabilities.

  He could do this. He hadn’t had a headache since returning from Hawaii, and he’d almost forgotten about his head injury. Would Carol, who liked to be in control of her own body, be brave enough to surf on his back?

  Would he conquer his fear of heights and hike with Carol on his back?

  He promised Tucker he’d give the model contract careful consideration, then hung up and knocked on Carol’s door.

  “It wasn’t Jolie,” Carol stated rather than asked. She could always read him—too well.

  “No, not Jolie. But an opportunity.” He explained Tucker’s offer to have Carol model with him, both on and off the surfboard.

  “He wants me to be strapped onto your back standing up?” Carol’s mouth opened wide. “What happens if we have to bail or get worked by a monster wave?”

  “We’ll hold our breaths and swim right back up.” Ken pulled a chair and sat next to his sister. “You enjoyed surfing and swimming in Hawaii.”

  “Because the water was calm,” Carol said. “I don’t get why we have to surf bigger waves. It’s not like anyone’s going to see our clothes. We’ll probably have to wear wetsuits.”

  “It’s the human side of the story. It’ll be inspirational and I guess sell more clothes. But if you’re not comfortable, I won’t do it. I can always pick up more gigs with Bad Boys for Hire. Rex says there’s a woman wanting to have a Barbie and Ken beach party.”

  “You should quit that gig.” Carol pursed her lips and her nostrils flared. “I know sex isn’t part of the job, but if you mess up, you’ll never get Jolie back.”

  “Maybe I don’t want her back.” He stood abruptly. “I’ve been too much of a pushover in Hawaii. I tried to show her what it was like to be loved and appreciated, but she humiliated me. Made me look like a wuss.”

  “So, your ego’s hurt?” Carol quirked an eyebrow and gave him a long, piercing look. “I’ll make a deal with you. Take me up Half Dome, and I’ll surf strapped on your back.”

  “Half Dome?” Ken’s heart thundered in his chest and sweat dampened his forehead. “That’s straight up a wall of rock.”

  “They have cables for you to hold onto near the end. You just have to walk in between them.” Carol woke her tablet up and browsed to the website. “I’m trusting you. If you fall, I fall, so the least you can do is trust yourself.”

  Right, and before he could trust someone else, he had to trust himself.

  Twenty-Six

  Jolie dragged her professional makeup kit through the lobby of the hospice care center. Weeks had gone by since her ill-fated honeymoon, and she was losing hope that Ken would ever forgive her.

  She’d kept in touch with Carol, but met a brick wall as far as prying about Ken was concerned. Carol would only say that she and Ken were training to climb Half Dome in between trips to Hawaii where they had a modeling gig for surfwear.

  Life went on, as it always did, and right now, Jolie wasn’t on any schedule as far as dating, marriage, or family went. How could she set a timetable when her heart ached for a man who would never trust her again? Even the Half Dome climb was overcompensation on Ken’s part. She’d made him feel two feet tall by rubbing his fears in his face.

  She’d ruined her own life, and frankly, the only thing she could do now was to give happiness to others, which was why she was at the hospice center to help a patient celebrate her birthday.

  The patient’s mother met her at the doorway with a warm hug. “I’m so glad you came. This is a big surprise for Faith. She’s never had a professional makeover before. It’ll be an even bigger surprise for her husband.”

  “I’ve brought a selection of wigs, like you suggested,” Jolie said. “She’s going to be amazed at the results.”

  Faith’s room was decorated with streamers, balloons, and posters all over her wall of puppies, kittens, and cute babies—everything designed to make her smile. A patchwork quilt rested on her lap, and she was propped up with many colorful pillows.

  Jolie greeted the woman, who was in her early forties. She’d lost her hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes, but despite her gauntness, her brown eyes twinkled with mischief when her mother explained who Jolie was and why she was here with a portable makeup studio.

  “I can’t wait to see the look in Roger’s eyes after you’re done.” Faith clapped her hands. “This old girl’s still got some sass left.”

  “You are going to be runway ready,” Jolie reassured. “He’s going to wonder where the red carpet is.”

  “He’s going to remember the day you two were married,” Faith’s mother said, wiping a tear from her eye.

  “I want him to remember me that way.” Faith blinked and swallowed hard. “I want him to always remember all the ways I love him.”

  “He will, darling,” her mother replied, while Jolie bit her own lip, remembering all the ways Ken had made her feel special. It was all real, he’d whispered that last time they spoke.

  For the next hour, Jolie applied eyebrow powder, mascara, foundation, blush, and gave Faith the entire gamut of makeup. She styled the wig and with the help of the health aide, they dressed Faith in an ombré pink to magenta fringed evening gown—not a ruffle in sight.

  Faith’s husband jumped ten feet when he stepped through the doorway, and her children bounced excitedly at the sight of their mother looking so vibrant and alive.

  Jolie couldn’t help but be drawn into the love surrounding the family and Faith’s courage. She was radiant under all the makeup, and for a few hours that Saturday afternoon, life returned to normal as she celebrated what was no doubt her last birthday on earth.

  Ken kissed the check he’d gotten from Beach Bommie’s Board Sports for his cut of the modeling contract. This was more money than he’d earned in surfing competitions and much steadier work. News agencies around the country had picked up on the story of Ken and Carol, the brother who carried his sister on his back on land and on sea.

  Climbing Half Dome had been the most terrifying experience in his life, but strangely, more exhilarating than facing the waves at Mavericks.

  Water was fluid and unpredictable, but the rock? It didn’t move, and climbing was simply putting one foot in front of the other on solid ground. Going down had been a lot harder, of course—it was th
e looking down that scared the crap out of him, but with Carol whispering encouragement in his ear, and most of all, with her trusting her life to him, Ken learned that trusting was the prelude to love, not the other way around.

  Tucking the check into his pocket, Ken wandered through the doors of a jewelry store and was immediately accosted by a salesman. Even though he hadn’t heard heads or tails from Jolie, he decided to trust her at her word—that everything that happened in Hawaii had been real for her, too.

  More than that, her body language screamed her love and regard for him—from the way she’d looked up to him, to the pinking of her cheeks, and the touching and cuddling up to him. She was always making eye contact with him, and when she looked at him, it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist.

  Besides, she wouldn’t have been hurt and worried about it all being an act if she didn’t have feelings for him. She wouldn’t have tested him with the waterfall rappelling had she not been afraid he’d only been hired to make love to her.

  Ken didn’t hear half of what the salesman said about clarity, cut, and color. The entire array of diamond solitaires was too dazzling to comprehend, but one thing stuck in his mind. It was a rhyme his mother used to quote. Married in pink, your marriage will sink. Married in blue, your love will be true.

  “I’ll take that blue-green diamond, the one that looks gray when I hold it a certain way.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Ken stood in front of the mirror in the dressing room of the Evergreen Theater. He straightened the collar of his costume and took a deep, cleansing breath. Tonight was the premiere of Romeo and Juliet, and he had the starring role of Romeo. He knew his lines. His throat was relaxed, and his family was in the audience.

  The sound of knocking was quickly followed by the door opening.

  “Makeup artist,” a female voice announced.

  Jolie stepped through the door with her makeup kit and a plate of cookies. She looked radiant. Her hair glowed in a multitude of reddish highlights, and her gorgeous chameleon eyes were bluish gray today. She was wearing a lacey white bikini cover up over a hot pink bikini, and flip-flops on her feet, as if she’d come fresh off Waikiki beach.

  Ken’s heartbeat jumped and his pulse skyrocketed. He hadn’t seen her since Hawaii when he’d left her and asked her not to look back. It hadn’t been easy to walk away, and he’d thought about her every day, especially with a ring burning a hole in his pocket.

  “Jolie?” His throat tightened and his brain turned to mush.

  She handed him the cookies. “Allergy Safe Cookies for you. No dairy, no eggs, no peanuts, and gluten-free. For after the show, of course.”

  “I didn’t know you’d be doing my makeup,” he blabbered. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Sit.” She pressed his shoulder down onto the chair in front of the mirror. “I’ll do all the talking, but first let’s apply foundation. Are you nervous?”

  “Definitely, and now that you’re here, I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I probably forgot all my lines by now.”

  “You’ll do great.” She tapped the tip of his nose with the foundation brush. “Sit still and let me put on your makeup.”

  Ken sucked in a cleansing breath and sat stiffly with his heart in his throat. All these weeks, he’d wondered about Jolie, whether she’d figured out what she wanted from life, how she was doing, and whether she was ready to take the next leap of faith with him.

  Her fragrance, warmth, and touch as she brushed foundation over his cheekbones made his hands itch to grab her and kiss the living daylights out of her.

  “Why did you give me allergy-free cookies?” he said, only to say something and tamp down his fantasies of making her his Juliet.

  “Because they’re part of what I am.” She smoothed his hair back to get makeup on his forehead all the way to his hairline. “I’m much more than my allergies, fears, and lists. I’m a makeup artist. I’m a daughter, a friend, a business woman, and a girl who loves surprises.”

  “Surprises?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Stop moving your face, or your makeup’s going to be uneven.” She brushed the furrows between his eyebrows. “As I was saying, I loved all your surprises, the surfing lesson, the play we went to, the notes you left me, the little gifts, your thoughtfulness, the care you took of me, the kisses, cuddles, and sweet caresses. Now, let’s get the concealer out and blend the bags from under your eyes.”

  “I don’t have bags.” Ken couldn’t help smiling now that she was here, touching him and taking his breath away.

  “Don’t move your face.” She patted his cheek lightly, and brushed under his eyes and up under his brow.

  “Yes, boss. You were saying …”

  “Guess I should apologize for that nasty trick of taking you to the waterfall.” She got out a large powder brush and fluffed powder on his nose. “I did it because I was insecure. I didn’t think you actually liked me, so I put you in a no-win situation. That way you’d leave me alone, and I wouldn’t have to worry that you’d reject me.”

  “Sounds convoluted.” Ken wrinkled his nose, feeling a sneeze coming on.

  “Stop moving your face,” she said. “That’s my canvas.”

  “Ahhh-choo.” He sneezed, covering his mouth with his hand. “Sorry.”

  She took a tissue and gave it to him. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I threw everything we had away because I didn’t believe you’d want someone with my baggage. Maybe you still don’t, but while I’m doing your makeup you have to sit here and listen to me.”

  His heart swelled and a load lifted from his shoulders at hearing her words. It was brave of her to come to him unannounced and tell him the depths of her heart. She’d made herself vulnerable and that meant she wanted him back.

  He grabbed her wrist to keep the powder from flying all over his face. “I’ve missed you, Jolie. And believe me, I want you and all your baggage. I want the complete package.”

  “I missed you, too.” She let the brush drop as he stood and pulled her into his arms. “I’ve been working on loving myself, accepting everything about me, my limitations, my allergies, my fears and doubts. Even more, I see all the good I do, how I volunteer at the hospital and put makeup on cancer patients, and how I’m always trying to be helpful and show kindness to others, how I have a big heart to forgive Warren for hurting me. Most of all, I forgive myself for all the stupid things I’ve done, like hurting you. I’m so sorry.”

  “You weren’t hurting me.” He curled a strand of her hair around his finger and swept it over her ear. “You were running from me, because you were afraid I’d hurt you. So, are you ready now? To restart what we had?”

  A smile broke over her face, and she tugged at her cover up shirt. “I believe I’m worth it. I won’t even say despite my limitations and allergies. I’m worth loving because I’m me, Jolie Becker, and I have so much love inside me that I want to share. I was scared to come talk to you, but at the same time, I’m not scared, because whether you want me or not, I still want myself and love myself. Do I sound arrogant?”

  “Not arrogant, but brilliant. You’re definitely selling a shirt I want to buy.” His lips hovered over hers. “I haven’t been munching on anything you’re allergic to. May I kiss you?”

  “I know you’d never endanger me. I trust you, Ken, with my life, my heart, my everything.” She pressed her lips against his, opening up to him.

  Ken eagerly kissed her, tilting her head and sealing his lips against hers. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, securely, savoring her warmth, the feel of her skin and the softness of her breasts against his chest. Her bikini strings beckoned, but he still had a play to act in, a show that must go on.

  “Trust me, too, Ken,” she said after they broke the kiss, both breathless and hot.

  He laughed and picked up the makeup brush. “I don’t think I have a choice, do I?”

  “You don’t, pig man. I’m going to make you so hideous no other woman will
want you.” She brushed powder over his eyes.

  “Paint me anyway you want, fire goddess.” Ken sat back onto the chair. “Because I’ll be raining love all over your parade for a long, long time.”

  Epilogue

  Jolie and Ken held hands as they stood at the top of an unmarked waterfall high above a deep canyon in the center of Oahu. The water was a veil of lace spraying over the black volcanic rock covered with lush green ferns.

  “How many feet is this again?” She asked Keoni, the guide who attached the anchor point to a large tree trunk.

  “You can’t get deeper than a five hundred foot drop,” he said.

  “Sure you have enough rope?” Ken adjusted the GoPro camera on Jolie’s helmet and kissed her. The look of love and admiration etched in his eyes added to her thrill of going down the wall of water. “I can’t wait to see the video,” he said. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

  “It’ll be great. Meet you at the bottom.” She kissed him, unable to take her gaze off her delectable husband.

  Yes. They were honeymooners—this time for real. The day before, while Ken surfed the giant waves of the North Shore, Jolie had relaxed on the beach with her long lens camera, taking pictures and videos of him.

  Today was her day, and Ken would meet her down below at the swimming hole. Even though he’d climbed Half Dome, that had been a hike on solid ground, not dropping off the side of a watery cliff. This time, Jolie wasn’t disappointed in Ken. She loved him, all of him, and the fact that he trusted her to do the things she enjoyed without pressuring him to participate.

  “We always have more rope than we need and a contingency rigging.” Alfredo checked Jolie’s harness and the figure-8 descender. “Try not to worry.”

  “I can’t help it.” Ken wiped his thumbs over Jolie’s cheeks. He dipped his lips to hers again, and they kissed long and passionately.

 

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