by Shana Gray
“Then I know just the place.”
* * *
DALLAS COULDN’T BELIEVE the coincidence of seeing her on the highway. Now he had to think fast and figure out how he was going to talk—seduce—her into staying with him for a couple of days. This time in luxury and not all wet and, well... He wanted to try to impress her, show her he was more than a paniolo.
She sat quietly in the truck looking out the window. His captive. He smiled, liking her quiet presence beside him. Dallas stole a glance. He highly doubted she knew how alluring she was. He liked her like this. Fresh, natural, even sweaty and flushed from her bicycle ride, she was amazingly sexy to him. Did she know it?
Dallas had been missing her since the end of the glamping trip and hadn’t realized just how much until now. He would whisk her away to his cliff-side home on the east shore just south of Hawi. His retreat. His haven. He rarely took people to it, preferring to keep it private and the world from creeping in. Now he wanted to shut out the world from his private escape, except for one person—Jimi.
“We’re going to stop along the way. Grab some food and something for you to wear.”
“But I didn’t bring any money,” Jimi replied.
“My treat.” Dallas smiled at her.
“I don’t know about that.” Jimi was concerned. “I can’t have you buying my clothes. I have plenty back at my hotel. Why don’t we just go back and get them?”
Dallas shook his head. “Nope. I have you now and I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”
Money wasn’t an issue; nor did he expect her to pay him back. He let it slide and decided to worry about it later if she brought it up. He was still reluctant to be completely open about his financial status. The fact that they were getting along so well, without that hanging over their heads, was a positive sign. She didn’t appear greedy or money hungry, which led him to believe she could be independently wealthy. Not that he was worried about her paying him back. It made him wonder again just how independent she was. And what, if anything, could make her consider living outside New York City. This island was nothing like the bright lights and big city.
But he liked the way she smiled at his comment. His blood rushed a little hotter thinking of the next few days he hoped to have with her.
“You’ll like this store,” he told her. “We can pick up pretty much anything your little heart desires.”
“It sounds like a great place. Are there clothing stores there?”
“Yep, formal wear to beachwear.”
“I think I’m preferring beachwear these days. Enough of formal wear.” She cast him a sideways glance with a smile.
He knew she was referring to the wedding, where she hadn’t seen him and he hadn’t recognized her.
“Well, there’s plenty of that. And, quite frankly, I’d rather you have no clothes on.”
She laughed. He liked her seductive tone and the way his body responded to her. As if she were part of him, he felt her energy like waves flowing over and inside him. So wild, unpredictable and, yes, difficult. A challenge. He knew deep in his soul that she would challenge him every step of the way, even if she didn’t know she was doing it. And yet more surprising was Dallas realized at this moment how much he wanted that in a woman.
* * *
SITTING BESIDE DALLAS as they drove down the highway was heaven. She’d been just as shocked as he by their chance meeting on the highway. In fact, she was quite lucky he’d driven by; otherwise, she’d have a two-hour hike back to the resort. The shopping trip was a delightful interlude, and it was way too easy to forget her life back home. She felt a little unsettled at that and was determined more than ever to pay him back, which she told him.
Jimi opened the window and inhaled deeply. She didn’t want air-conditioning—she wanted the Hawaiian air. To smell it. Feel the softness of it around her.
“This is lovely. It’s a different landscape from the other side of the island.”
“Yes, it’s more tropical and also quite rocky at the same time. Of course, it’s all lava rock.”
She nodded. “It wasn’t really what I expected Hawaii would be. I always imagined it would be flowers everywhere, palm trees, white-sand beaches, just a tropical paradise.”
“Hawi is like that, and parts of each island have their lushness. This is the youngest of all the Hawaiian Islands, in geologic terms anyway, but in our terms it’s old.” He smiled.
“I’d love to see the volcano.”
“Well, maybe we’ll take a trip down there. We can walk through a lava tube.”
“Love to! But how can you walk in lava tubes? Isn’t that dangerous?”
He laughed, but it didn’t make Jimi feel embarrassed. She laughed with him. It was so easy to be with this man. There was no pretense, just happiness.
“They’re old lava tubes. And it’s just a short stretch, but it gives you the idea of what they’re like. It’s quite something, really. To think that these tubes you’re walking in were full of molten lava rushing from the volcano to the ocean.”
“This island really is dynamic. Always growing and changing,” Jimi commented. “I didn’t take geology, but I worked in that firm when I was younger that gave me an idea of tectonics, earth sciences and so forth. But volcanoes are scary.”
“Why are they scary?”
She snorted. “You’re asking that question? It’s like you’re living on a bomb about to explode.”
They arrived at Queens’ MarketPlace and he parked the truck. The heat from the parking lot was stifling, and the cool interior of the grocery store was a welcome relief. She was in awe.
“Fabulous store,” Jimi exclaimed. “It sort of reminds me of Whole Foods. Although I hardly ever shop there ’cause it’s way too snobby.” She looked at Dallas and raised her eyebrows. “So, do you cook?”
He laughed out loud. “If you call making toast and slicing tomatoes to put on it ‘cooking,’ then yes. No, I don’t cook well. I’m the guy that grabs a bowl of cereal or whatever’s handy in the fridge. But don’t get me wrong. I do like a good meal and appreciate people who can cook.”
“Well, if you don’t cook, then how do you know about this store, and why would you come here?”
“Look around. I can get anything I want in here. See over there? How could a man ever starve with all that? The deli, sushi, pizza, any kind of sandwich. Salads. Perfect for a guy who doesn’t cook.”
She looked where he pointed, and it made him wonder if she liked cooking. “Of course, if somebody wants to cook for me, I’m down with that. Do you cook?”
“Of course I do. Remember, I was raised on a commune. We grew our own stuff, slaughtered our own meat.” That made her pause—it wasn’t something she liked to remember, even if it was part of her past. “Yeah, but my cooking is much more refined these days.”
“Hang on. You butchered your own food?”
She nodded and hesitated before answering, because most people didn’t understand. “Yes, I did. I grew up with it, so it was normal. But, as I grew older, I appreciated the animals and their sacrifice.”
“Even though I’m in the cattle industry, it still bothers me. We follow Temple Grandin’s principles for the health and well-being of the animal. Anyway, let’s put all this aside and do some shopping.”
“Sounds good. Anything in particular you like?”
“Everything. Oh, except Brussels sprouts.”
For some reason Jimi thought that inordinately funny and burst out laughing. “Of all things! Brussels sprouts.”
Dallas curled his lip and said, “My mom would make them. Boiled. Even the smell turns my stomach.”
“I see. I think you just challenged me.”
Dallas led her around the store, and Jimi was blown away by the whole ambience of it. The lighting, the signage, the flow of the displays. It ma
de shopping enjoyable. Normally she’d fly into a store, grab what she needed and get the hell out. But this store made her want to wander around, discover each new display or basket full of some kind of treat. “I love being in this store. It makes me feel good.”
He raised a brow. “A grocery store makes you feel good?”
She smiled and nodded, lifting a pineapple she sniffed for ripeness before putting it in the buggy he was pushing around. “Yes, it does. It turns me on.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Seriously, as in sexual? That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Not so strange, really. I know a few women who feel the same.”
“That’s just plain weird.” He shook his head. “How the hell are you ever supposed to understand women?” He drove the buggy over to a big fruit display. She followed.
“Maybe you’re not,” she offered.
“Do you like papaya?” he asked and reached for one.
“I love all fruit. We can’t get it this fresh and delicious looking back home.”
“I’ve called it ‘pawpaw’ since I was a kid.” He picked one up. “This one looks good. Great with some good cheese, sliced Italian sausage and some fine red wine. We’ll get some of that, too.” He handed it to her.
Jimi sniffed it before putting it in the buggy.
“Why do you smell it?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “My dad taught me. He said you can smell the ripeness, so I smell it. Something I never really gave thought to until you pointed it out. But he’s right.”
Dallas picked up the pineapple and smelled it. “I can smell the sweetness of it. Hmm, who knew—never really paid attention to it before, either.”
They wandered off side by side, selecting groceries. It gave her an image of what the future could be like with him. Domesticated. Family. Fun. He reached for tomatoes, his muscles bulging and rippling by the simple move, and it got her heart all fluttery. He glanced at her, his eyes expressive. She saw his passion simmering. Waiting to be unleashed.
It would be intense, too. His underlying sensuality kept her in a smoldering state of arousal. Would that subside over time? She was beginning to wonder if they had some kind of special connection. Having met under dire circumstances. Could a relationship grow from that? Their banter back and forth was effortless. She didn’t feel uncomfortable with him; nor did he seem so with her. It seemed natural. Right. New and very unfamiliar feelings began to take root inside her and frightened her a little bit, but also gave her the strangest sensation of hope.
They wandered in comfortable silence. Through the produce section into the bakery area, where Jimi’s mouth started to water at the sights and smells at the cornucopia of all sorts of breads and bakery treats. Carbs. Her downfall. She could pass on the chocolate, cake and candies, but put a bag of chips or plate of fries in front of her and she was weak. She touched a loaf snugly wrapped in a paper wrapper and sighed with delight at the softness under her fingers.
She wanted to take everything because it looked so delicious. What would the next few days bring? She had the time, just not any necessities with her. How long would she stay with him? She knew at least one night. Her heart fluttered thinking of what was to come later.
“Smell that bread. What is it about the fresh-baked aroma that is just so homey and makes you want to buy everything?” Dallas said, and held a big breath after he said that.
“I know. There’s nothing like the smell of fresh bread. It’s been so long since I’ve made it.”
“Seriously? You’ve made bread, too?”
Jimi was tickled by the look of surprise on his face. “Yes. I’ve made bread. Remember I grew up—”
“Yes, and yes. I know where you grew up. So maybe you can make some for me?”
“Maybe. It’s a long process to make bread.”
They both fell silent, looking at each other. She wondered if he was thinking the same as her. How long would they be together? Would there be time to bake bread?
“Let’s grab a couple of loaves and get on out of here. Sound good?”
“Yes.” Jimi smiled and stood up on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. An impulsive move to be sure, here in the store, but the urge was too powerful to ignore.
The touch of his skin next to her lips was polarizing. Jimi drew in a sharp breath at her reaction. Dallas also appeared to hold his breath, and when he turned to face her, she was caught in his gaze. There was so much emotion in his eyes it gave her a lump in her throat.
This man certainly had some kind of power over her.
His lips were so close she couldn’t resist. There, in the middle of the store, they kissed. His hands held her hips steady as she leaned into him. The world around them faded away and it was only them. No one else. Among the organic produce and next to the artisan breads, Jimi felt the first pull of...dare she say it? Love. With tomatoes on one side, pineapples on the other, and shoppers pushing their carts around them, she allowed herself to get lost in his embrace. She knew she’d never look at grocery shopping the same way. Ever again.
Maybe dreams do come true in blue Hawaii.
Breathless, she reluctantly pulled away from him. “This really isn’t the place to be making out.”
He nodded and stepped back, passion and something else etched on his face. “You might be right.”
Jimi furrowed her brows, not really understanding the look she’d seen flash across his face. “Is something wrong?”
Now she felt a little unnerved that he seemed to be holding back. Did he not want to be seen with her? Maybe he wasn’t good at PDA. She forced herself not to jump to any conclusions.
Live in the moment, girl.
“Nothing. I agree with you. Not the right place to be getting all hot under the collar.” He smiled. “How about we pay for the groceries and head over to the other store so you can get some clothes and then be on our way?”
“Ooh, clothes shopping. Do you really know what you’re in for?”
Dallas laughed. “Likely not.”
* * *
JIMI LOVED THIS STORE. The bright, happy atmosphere fit so well with Hawaii culture and the vacation mood. It was a visual rainbow of brightly colored beachwear.
“Do you have a pool at your place?” Whatever he bought for her today, she had every intention of reimbursing him. And she was liking the look of the bathing suits. “I’ll let you buy me these clothes under one condition. That I pay you back and you don’t argue about it. Otherwise, I can’t come with you.” She stared at him and held her breath, not wanting him to argue back. He didn’t, so she continued with her negotiation. She had no idea what he could afford and didn’t want to overstep. “Can you give me an idea on budget?”
He smiled, not giving any sign he took offense. “Get whatever you like, and we’ll sort it out later.”
She was relieved. Not knowing his income level and salary range for ranch workers was beyond her scope of knowledge.
She nodded, accepting his offer gracefully. “I am paying you back! No argument about that.”
“Like I said,” Dallas answered, “we’ll worry about it all later. For now, it’s fun time. Grab some stuff that you need for a couple of days and we’ll take it all in stride.”
A couple of days? Heat rushed through her body in anticipation of spending the next few days with him. Alone. And not in a damp and rainy mountainside camp.
“These are so pretty.” She held up a pareo, the colors vibrant and beautiful shades of tangerine. “Are they made on the island?”
Dallas lifted the edge where the tag was. “Yep, made on island.”
Jimi felt stupid. Why hadn’t she thought to look at the tag? Of course it would say where it was made. She would know that, being in the fashion industry. She selected a couple of them, the beautiful tang
erine, and a hot-pink-and-purple one. She didn’t have a bathing suit and justified it that you could never have too many bikinis. She looked for one that would match both of her sarongs. She held one up.
“Do you like this?”
“I love an itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikini. Even if it’s not yellow polka dots.”
Jimi laughed and handed it to him to hold. “You’re very patient.”
“I have a sister—what can I say.”
Jimi smiled. “Larson, right?” She recalled the other guests had mentioned she and Dallas were siblings. “She’s a ranch hand, too?”
He nodded and watched in silence as Jimi shoved some hangers aside until she found a couple of colorful tank tops in her size. He took them from her and laid them across his arm. “My brother, Tucker, is as well, when he’s not off doing stupid shit or flitting in and out of his shop.”
“Yes, I remember Tucker. A family affair.”
“That it is.”
“You know, that’s really nice. A family all together, doing something they love. You all do love it, right?”
“Oh yes, we love it. Our family has been ranching for over one-hundred-and-fifty years.”
“That’s really something. I would have never guessed it on Hawaii.”
“It sure is. There are a couple of ranching families on the island. What about your family?”
Jimi focused on the shorts, fingering through the sizes. “Well, you know I grew up on a commune.”
He nodded. “I find that fascinating. I’d like to hear about it sometime.”
She looked at him. “Most people do.” Relieved she didn’t have to get into it here, she selected a pair of white-and-black shorts. “Sure, when I’m liquored up enough.”
He chuckled. “That bad, huh?”
She smiled at him and lifted a shoulder. “Interesting enough, put it that way.” Wandering to the next rack, she exclaimed, “Ooh, look at this.”
Jimi held up a lovely long-sleeved ivory cover-up. It was so light and filmy, delicately woven, that it looked like spun silk. Filigree threads, soft and silky, with loose loopy stitches and a slightly tapered shape. She held it out and decided she had to have it.
