Delicious Do-Over

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Delicious Do-Over Page 2

by Debbi Rawlins


  “No, I’m good. I think I packed everything.”

  Lindsey snorted. “Uh, yeah, I think you did.”

  “Just wait until you need to borrow something because you forgot to pack it.”

  They’d been checked in for less than an hour and Shelby already had spread out, scattering heaps of clothes on the beds and dresser. It didn’t matter. With any luck, none of them would be in the room much anyway.

  Naturally that thought led to Rick. Was he here? Had he even seen the Facebook shout-out? Even if he had, why would he have given it a second thought? They’d known each other for eight measly hours. A guy like him probably met women on the beach all the time. Making love to them under the moon and stars was no big deal.

  That night had meant everything to her. He’d been the second guy she’d been with, and he’d shown her what the fuss was all about. Jeez, she could still remember how she’d come apart at the seams. In all the years since, she hadn’t felt anything like it. “I’m gonna go,” she said. “Are you meeting Mia in the bar?”

  “I’ve got to put away my stuff and dry my hair.” Shelby shook out a blue halter top. “What about you?”

  “I don’t know yet. Eventually we’ll meet up.” She wanted to be alone when she saw Rick. If she saw him. Please, God, let her see him. She slipped her purse strap onto her shoulder and headed for the door. “See you later.”

  “Oh, Linds—”

  “I won’t forget the bronzing lotion.” Without a backward glance, Lindsey smiled and checked the outside pocket of her purse for her key card before shutting the door behind her.

  She had the elevator to herself and used the few seconds to study her pale legs, her unpolished toenails. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn shorts yet. If she’d had the time she would’ve hit a tanning salon and gotten a pedicure, but between easing out of her job and packing up her apartment, she’d been busy up to the last minute.

  The elevator doors slid open and she stepped into the lobby, greeted by the tangy salt air and a buzzing group of Asian tourists. She quickly got out of their way so they could board the elevator, and then paused until she got her bearings. The lobby opened out to the beach, and she gazed at the white sand and crystal blue water, the late afternoon sun sinking on the horizon, so beautiful, so soothing. This was her week to chill, to find bliss with or without Rick. She was meant to be here. This was perfect.

  Even walking to the store would be a pleasure. Everything smelled of the sea and suntan lotion, every view was a treat, and there were men here, lots of them, so it was all good. With a final look, she turned around.

  And saw Rick. Standing not ten feet away. Their gazes met and her heart swooped into a free fall. For all she’d hoped, she’d never believed, but it was him, all right.

  He hadn’t changed much. In fact, wearing tan cargo shorts and a black T-shirt, he looked as if he still belonged on a college campus. His light brown hair was still long, maybe more sun-streaked, his shoulders broad, his skin a deeper bronze. His mouth curved into that slow, killer smile she’d dreamed about for six years.

  “Jill,” he said in a voice huskier than she recalled.

  She blinked, swallowed. “Rick.” Before she knew what was happening, she was wrapped in his arms and he’d lifted her off the floor.

  She clung to his shoulders for support, muscles bunching under her palms. Oh, he’d definitely filled out. Her heart beat wildly as he spun her around, both of them grinning like kids. A moment passed, then two, and she was aware once more of the crowded lobby, of how tightly he held her against his body.

  “Everybody’s looking,” she said with a shaky laugh.

  “Let ’em.” He set her down, and lowered his head for a kiss that merely brushed her cheek. “You look great.”

  She combed a self-conscious hand through her hair. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  A brief frown darkened his hazel eyes. “Facebook—that was you, right?”

  “Yes.” Her purse strap had slid down her shoulder, and she twisted it around her hand. “I meant that I just checked in, and well, here you are.”

  He winked with that same casual confidence she’d admired before. “I couldn’t wait.”

  Unfortunately, her attempt to sound casual came out as a small strangled laugh. He seemed taller than six feet but that had to be wrong because he’d been twenty-three when they’d first met, past the growing stage. Of course, they hadn’t been vertical much. The thought made her blush. Darn him for catching her off guard. She’d needed time to slip into Jill mode. Shoot, she needed to give him her real name. That was going to be fun.

  “You feel like catching up?” he added.

  “Sure.”

  He took her hand, which affected her far more than it should have. When she saw he was taking her to the Plantation Bar, she put on the brakes and shook her hand free.

  Rick cocked a brow. “Something wrong?”

  “How about the bar at the pool?”

  “The Plantation Bar might be quieter.”

  “One of my friends is there,” Lindsey admitted. “I’d rather be alone.”

  He took her hand back and changed direction. The thrill was just as strong. Come on, Lindsey, get a grip, it’s just holding hands, for goodness’ sake. If he—really—kissed her, she’d probably pass out. She wished she’d gotten the sunglasses though because she couldn’t stop staring at him. He wasn’t just hot. He’d left hot in the dust and gone straight to burning. In her dreams, he’d been yummy, but not nearly this tanned or ripped and, he hadn’t been able to wait!

  Sand between her toes surprised her into stopping. She looked down at her sandals and then at Rick. They were on the beach and not headed to the pool, which was in the other direction. “Rick—”

  “I know this cool bar on the beach. You won’t run in to anybody there.” He flashed a dazzling smile. “Unless you left more than one broken heart here six years ago.”

  Even though she knew he was teasing, her breath caught anyway. “I lost count.”

  His grin broadened. “It’s so good to see you, Jill.”

  “I have something to tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My name isn’t Jill.” She cleared her throat. “It’s Lindsey.”

  An odd expression crossed his face, and she had the horrible feeling that he was about to walk away, leave her standing in the middle of the beach. He only kicked off his brown flip-flops, and then stooped to pick them up. “That’s going to take some getting used to. You want to take off those sandals?”

  “That’s it?”

  “You can take your top off if you want.”

  “No.” Heat crawled up her neck. “No, I meant about me giving you a fake name.”

  His smile told her that he’d been teasing again. She seriously needed to loosen up.

  “You were being cautious.” He shrugged. “I get it… Lindsey.” He said her name slowly, as if trying it out. “I like Lindsey. It suits you.”

  “Good.” She felt better…except for her feet. The sand lodged between her arches and sandals felt gritty and uncomfortable. She slipped the sandals off before they continued down the beach.

  “Are you going to tell me your last name?” He playfully bumped her shoulder with his. “Or do you want to wait and see how the day goes?”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  A faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Mine is Granger.”

  She had to give him points for not reacting badly to the fake name. “Shaw.” But she wouldn’t give him her room number yet. “When did you get here?”

  “The end of November.”

  “I meant Hawaii.”

  “I know.” He jerked his chin toward a hotel bordering the beach and guided her in that direction. “I have a house here.”

  “In Waikiki?”

  “The other side of the island. On the North Shore.”

  She shook her head, totally confused. She knew he’d gone to school in Southern California, and that
he was from Michigan. “When did you move here?”

  “I didn’t.” He shaded his eyes and gazed out over the ocean, briefly focusing on a couple of bodysurfers. “I’m only here part-time. This is it,” he said, gesturing.

  The bar was little more than a grass hut without walls. She’d seen it from a distance and thought it was a concession that rented out surfboards and canoes. But there were shelves of liquor in the center, surrounded by a wooden bar and wooden stools. Inside the circle, a big man wearing a yellow Hawaiian shirt garnished frothy drinks with pineapple wedges and cherries.

  The bartender looked up when they slid onto stools facing the water, and a grin softened his craggy features. “Hey, Rick, long time no see. What you doin’ on this side of da island, bruddah?”

  “Slumming.”

  The man chuckled, leaned closer as he picked up the glasses. “You right about that,” he said in a discreet voice, giving Lindsey a quick wink before carrying the order to the customers sitting at the other end of the bar.

  “Slumming?” Lindsey repeated.

  Rick swiveled around to face her, his legs spread, effectively trapping her. “Not you. It’s a tourist thing.”

  “I’m a tourist.”

  He picked up a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers in a surprisingly intimate gesture. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he murmured.

  “I figured you’d have forgotten about me by the next day.”

  He let go of her hair, met her gaze. “Why did you disappear without waking me up?”

  Lindsey tensed, unprepared to explain herself, unwilling to admit that he’d frightened her by making her feel things she’d never dreamed possible. “I woke up late. I didn’t want to miss my plane, and I honestly didn’t think it mattered. You knew I was leaving.”

  He studied her a minute, then shrugged. “I figured it was something like that.” He swiveled back around just as the bartender approached. “When did you start working here? I thought you were at the Hyatt.”

  “I’m workin’ two jobs. Gotta pay da bills, bruddah.”

  “Yeah, I hear you,” Rick said, and the older man’s brown eyes glinted with amusement she didn’t quite understand. “This is Lindsey, Keoni.”

  Keoni acknowledged her with a nod. “What can I get you?” he asked, and then said to Rick, “Beer for you, I know.”

  Lindsey thought for a moment. “That sounds good.”

  Rick’s brows went up. “No fancy drink?”

  “They have a way of sneaking up on me,” she admitted.

  Keoni had already moved away to grab mugs, but she saw him smile.

  Rick turned back to face her, this time taking one of her hands and lightly pressing it between his slightly callused ones.

  “I don’t want you drunk,” he murmured in a low voice meant only for her ears.

  She started to laugh, thinking he was teasing, but his hazel eyes were serious. “I wasn’t drunk last time, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “No—” He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but Keoni slid their mugs in front of them. “Thanks.”

  He might have stuck around, but a young couple came up from the beach and pulled out stools, and Lindsey watched Keoni amble toward them.

  Rick stroked her palm with his thumb. The pad wasn’t smooth like that of a desk jockey. When they’d met he’d been an engineering student. She wondered if he’d finished school, or decided he’d rather hang out at the beach.

  “I wish I’d known Keoni was working here,” he muttered. “Nice guy, but I was hoping for a bartender I wouldn’t know, so we’d be alone like you said.”

  She slowly swung her gaze to his face.

  His lips twitched. “To talk.”

  “Of course.” She looked deeply into his eyes, entranced by the way the hazel had become a warm gold. Her breathing slipped slightly off-kilter, and as hard as she struggled to look away, she couldn’t.

  “Screw it.” He leaned in and kissed her.

  Not a quick one, either. He lingered, slanting his mouth over hers, his lips supple and coaxing. Startled, her senses swimming, she felt the tip of his tongue tease the corner of her mouth, and she parted her lips.

  He slid his tongue inside, slow and hot and demanding, making her forget where they were. He moved his hand to her thigh, up high, where her shorts ended. His thumb slid just under the hem. Coming from somewhere in the haze she heard a woman’s faint laugh.

  Lindsey froze, and realized with an element of shock that they were sitting at the bar in full view.

  She broke away, not knowing where to look, what to do. She wanted to hide her face in her hands. Instead, she grabbed blindly for her mug and took a long cool sip of beer.

  “Relax,” Rick said, his hand still resting on her thigh. “Lots of honeymooners around. No one even noticed.”

  She kept her hands wrapped around the mug, and stared down at the amber brew. It wasn’t the kiss, exactly, that had her flustered. It was how quickly the fire inside her had ignited, how quickly the heat had surged through her veins and settled low in her belly. It seemed almost unnatural.

  Good grief, it wasn’t as if she’d been living in a convent for the past six years. There had been other men she’d liked, a couple of them well enough to have become intimate with, but no one had ever made her feel as if nothing around her mattered, as if the only reason for her next breath was to feel his touch again. But wasn’t that exactly why she was here? She wanted to relive those eight hours, stretch them out to a week.

  Rick reached for his beer. After taking a sip, he rested an elbow on the bar and just looked at her. “So where are you living these days?”

  A giggle rose in her throat. After that kiss, the question struck her as ridiculously funny. “Chicago.” She cleared her throat. “No, New York, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “I’m in the process of moving.”

  His brows drew together in a frown that said he didn’t believe her.

  She’d already lied to him about her name. It wasn’t a stretch to think she didn’t want him to know where she lived. “It’s the truth.”

  A smile tugged at one side of his mouth, and his gaze fell to her lips.

  Her heart thumped wildly.

  Excellent. He was going to kiss her again.

  2

  LINDSEY, RICK REMINDED himself as he watched her nervously moisten her lips, not Jill. It was going to take some serious mental gear-shifting for her real name to sink in. If he hadn’t thought about her over the years, it might’ve been different. But that night on the beach had turned into more than a simple one-time hookup. Should’ve been nothing more, he knew. He’d had his share of them. Went with the lifestyle. In his sphere, chicks loved surfers. And if a guy was lucky enough to make money at it, the women seemed all the more willing.

  “Were you transferred?” he asked, steeling himself against the fathomless depths of her blue eyes. Damn, he wanted to kiss her again.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Your job was in Chicago. Now you’re moving to New York.”

  “Oh, yes, I mean no.” She wrinkled her nose, something she seemed to do when she was frustrated with herself. He liked it. “I wasn’t transferred. I quit.”

  “Yeah? What kind of job was it?”

  “Accounting.”

  He hadn’t seen that coming. Sticking her behind a desk seemed like a huge waste. With her long blond hair and big innocent blue eyes, she was a stunner. Great body, too. Not as skinny as six years ago. Her hips and breasts seemed more filled out. But he couldn’t let his mind go there, not yet. “Tired of corporate America, huh? Man, I get that.”

  “I liked the company I worked for. They’re old and stable and have a great pension plan….” Her voice trailed off, and she briefly looked down at her hands. “I’m going into business with my college friends, Mia and Shelby. You didn’t meet them last time.”

  “Good for you. Taking a small risk now and then is
good for the soul.”

  “Small risk?” She let out a laugh.

  He grinned. “Ah, right, the pension plan.”

  “Having no income until we make a profit?” she said defensively. “Excuse me, but that’s more than a small risk.”

  “You’re right.” He held up his hands. “My bad.”

  “What about you? What have you been doing?”

  “A lot of surfing lately, though we’ve probably seen the last of the really big waves for the season.”

  “I meant work.”

  “I know.” He paused, watched Keoni schmooze with his customers. “The prize money for competition surfing is pretty good. It usually carries me through the year.” He shrugged. “Since I’m flexible, I spend a few months on the mainland, see my family, go skiing.”

  The questions in her eyes multiplied. No surprise there. He was twenty-nine. Most people figured at that age a man should settle down, start thinking about a career, family. They weren’t necessarily wrong, but he had too much to do yet.

  “Weren’t you an engineering student?” she asked, more curious than judgmental, which he appreciated.

  “Yep, got my degree, checked out the job market, managed to get a few offers.” He took a swallow of beer. “But I just couldn’t see myself sitting in an office watching the clock.” He leaned back. “You look surprised.”

  “I am. You seemed excited about going into engineering.”

  Rick chuckled. “I was excited.” He stroked the silky smooth skin just below the hem of her shorts. “It had nothing to do with engineering.”

  She blushed. Something else he liked about her. Women didn’t seem to do that anymore. “You’re bad,” she muttered, and brought the mug to her lips. She took a small sip and smiled.

  Keoni returned, grabbing the towel that was draped over his beefy shoulder and mopped the moisture their mugs left on the bar. With a jerk of his broad chin, he asked Rick, “You ready for another one?”

  “Nah, I have to drive.”

  Keoni shrugged, saw that a customer at the far end of the bar was signaling for his check and started backing away. “How’s the shoulder?”

 

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