Delicious Do-Over

by Debbi Rawlins

“What’s wrong?” she asked, touching his waist.

  “I’m hungry.” He adjusted her tank top, and refused to look at her hard nipples poking at the stretchy material. “Let’s go get breakfast. Then I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

  She nervously moistened her lips. “What about…our lesson?”

  He shook his head. “It was a dumb idea.”

  AS TEMPTING AS THE macadamia-nut, chocolate-chip pancakes were, Lindsey could barely eat. Rick had no such trouble. After wolfing down his ham-and-cheese omelet and fried potatoes, he put away two of her leftover pancakes. She hoped his appetite was a sign that nothing was bothering him, but his earlier abruptness had her on edge.

  The three cups of strong black Kona coffee certainly hadn’t helped her nerves. God, she was ridiculous. Here she was lucky enough to be in Hawaii, while March snow was forecasted for Chicago, sitting under a palm tree at an outdoor café with the most gorgeous man this side of the equator.

  And still, she found something to fret about. Such a pathetic Lindsey thing to do. Maybe that was the problem. He was tired of her. Maybe he’d figured out that the woman he knew as Jill didn’t exist.

  “Have your friends texted you back yet?” he asked, and signaled the waitress for the check.

  Lindsey got her phone out of her purse at the same time she took out her wallet. “No, but it doesn’t matter. Just drop me off at the hotel.”

  He paused in the middle of pushing his plate aside. Frowning, he met her eyes. “Drop you off?”

  She looked away. “I’m sure you have other things to do today,” she said, sounding deceptively unconcerned.

  “I thought you were coming to the North Shore with me.”

  The waitress interrupted them by bringing the check. Lindsey reached for it, but Rick was too fast.

  “It’s my turn,” she stubbornly reminded him.

  He ignored her, and after a quick glance at the total, returned the check to the waitress along with some folded bills. “Keep the change,” he told the woman, and then said to Lindsey, “You ready?”

  Once out of the booth, she was surprised when he took her hand. He silently led her out of the restaurant, to the passenger side of the Jeep, and opened the door for her.

  When he got in, he didn’t start the engine. Instead, he put on his sunglasses and turned to her. “I understand that you’re only here for a week,” he said. “You probably have other plans with your friends.”

  “Not really,” she said slowly, not sure where he was going with this. “It’s just that we haven’t talked much yet.”

  “Look, I’ll admit it. I’m a selfish bastard. I was hoping we’d have the whole week together. If I’ve been too pushy, I apologize.”

  “No,” she said, pleased by his honesty and that she’d worried for nothing. “You haven’t.”

  “It’s not about sex, either. Naturally, I wouldn’t turn it down.” He shrugged and smiled, when she gave him an arched look. “I’m just saying…”

  She silently congratulated herself for not blushing or flinching. “Saying what exactly?” she asked calmly, reminding herself that she was the warrior, Jill. “That if I open the door, you’ll walk in and help yourself?”

  His brows went up in surprise, and he chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “Okay, what?” He leaned back, looking totally relaxed, peering at her through the dark lenses.

  “What I’m hearing is that you’re letting me call the shots.”

  He hesitated. “Go on.”

  She couldn’t see his eyes, of course, but she heard the amusement in his voice, saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “First, I have to stop someplace where I can buy a pair of sunglasses. Then I want to go back to the hotel and shower.” She paused, enjoying the slight tensing of his jaw, the hopeful way his brows arched. “Alone,” she said, and when his lips puckered with disappointment, she stupidly added, “Sorry.”

  Darn it. She didn’t have to apologize. She was in charge. No, she was taking charge. Just like Jill would do. Or Mia, or Shelby. But she wouldn’t beat herself up. She had to accept that the new Lindsey was a work in progress. Shedding her old skin couldn’t happen overnight. She’d already taken the important step of quitting her job and leaving her old boring life behind. This wasn’t simply a new chapter, but a new beginning.

  She squared her shoulders. “I do have to find out what’s going on with my friends, but I also want to go to the North Shore with you.”

  “I should’ve said something sooner, but they’re welcome to come along.”

  She had to smile at his obvious lack of enthusiasm. Though she understood. She loved them both to pieces, but she didn’t particularly want to share Rick with them. Besides, she figured they were having reunions of their own.

  As if he’d read her mind, he said, “I’m guessing they’ve found better things to do than hang with us.”

  “One would hope. This week is going to go by fast enough.”

  “Yep.” He started the engine. “Store first, then the hotel.”

  “No.” Lindsey shook her head and leaned toward him. “First this.” She braced her hand on his hard thigh, and kissed him on the mouth.

  He didn’t move. Didn’t try to intensify the kiss when she kept it light. In fact, she got the impression that he wanted her to have complete control. And to her amazement, she had the feeling she could really get used to that.

  RICK WAITED IN THE Jeep while Lindsey ran in to the nearby ABC store to find a pair of sunglasses. He’d offered to go in with her, but she’d flatly refused. Hell, not just refused, she’d ordered him to stay in the car, and punctuated it with a glare that said she meant it.

  He smiled at her fierce new assertiveness. She would probably be disappointed to know that while she was talking like a general, her eyes were practically blinking out an SOS. He wouldn’t tell her, though, because that was a huge part of what made her so great. Her emotions were written all over her face, everything from pleasure to fear to the fantastic way her eyes widened when she surprised herself. Maybe that’s why she wanted the sunglasses.

  He didn’t care. She had other tells. Like the way she wrinkled her nose when she was confused or uncertain, or how she pressed her lips together when she regretted giving up too much information. But he was still learning to read her. That first night had been spent mainly in the dark, talking, touching. Yeah, a lot of touching.

  The whole evening had been crazy. He’d been full of pent-up energy after spending a restless day contemplating whether he was doing the right thing by staying in school. He’d been a month short of twenty-three, and because he’d started college at twenty, he was still a sophomore.

  That meant three more years of school in order to get his engineering degree. He hadn’t been sure he was on the right path. As much as he got off on learning how things worked and being able to create something from nothing, the thought of an office job filled him with dread.

  Walking away from school wouldn’t have been hard. He hadn’t needed an education to secure his future. As long as he didn’t get stupid with the money he’d invested, he’d be able to live the rest of his life on a beach somewhere and not lift a finger. At twenty-three, the idea had been damn tempting. Until he’d spent that night with Lindsey.

  She may have been insecure about spring-break sex, but man, she’d been sure as hell about her future.

  She wasn’t going to school for her parents or because it was expected of her. She’d told him that she wanted as many options as possible. That’s what her degree was about—options. She didn’t want to wake up one day filled with regret, unable to change the past.

  At the time, he’d had too many options. At eighteen, he’d earned serious cash as an oil rig diver, and somehow he’d come up with a simple fix for an endemic problem with high pressure valves. With his patent, money ceased to be an issue. Wouldn’t be, in fact, for the rest of his life. He could kick back, surf and ski and travel to hi
s heart’s content, but he didn’t want one moment of success at twenty to be the apex of his life.

  He swore then that he wouldn’t let his success change his goals. Except he had. Everyone fussed over his potential, pushed him to start college as he’d promised. As expectations mounted, so had his fear. What if he never had another bankable idea again?

  Then he’d met steady, sensible Lindsey and he’d promised himself he’d finish school just as he’d set out to do. Whether he used the degree for a job or not was immaterial. He wouldn’t regret having the knowledge. The invention bug had bitten though—he wanted to be that person who could look at anything and know that he could make it something better. He wanted the challenge and he wanted the thrill of success again.

  Safety and security had been Lindsey’s brass ring. He hadn’t totally gotten it at the time, but knowing about her childhood, now he understood. All he knew was that she was sure and steady and more centered than anyone he knew, and he envied her. Because she would never be a woman who would end up disappointed in herself.

  He wanted to be that person. Every time he’d been tempted to kiss off school after that night, he thought of her.

  Squinting up at the sky, he noticed the clouds were starting to come in from the northeast. Damn, he hoped it didn’t rain. March could be an iffy month. Unfortunately, this side of the island could be clear while it rained where he lived. But the rain was what kept the north and windward side lush and green. He had to get her out there. It was a different world, the polar opposite of Waikiki. She was going to love it.

  Oddly, it mattered to him that she did. Which made no sense, he thought as he watched an Asian couple take pictures of each other in front of the ABC window display of Hawaiian shirts and colorful rubber flip-flops. In fact, the idea bothered him. What difference should it make to him if she liked the North Shore? In a week she’d be gone.

  Lindsey walked out of the store, clutching a bag, her new sunglasses already in place shielding her eyes. He smiled at the bag, thinking that she might have bought one of the many souvenirs hawked by the touristy convenience store that was a Waikiki staple. He was an impatient shopper, in the habit of dashing into stores and grabbing only the thing he needed, but he’d like to watch her shop, he decided. He guessed that she’d be slow and thoughtful, making a mental list of pros and cons as she deliberated over each item.

  A shirtless dude riding a bike braked in front of her, and she stopped when he said something to her. Whatever it was, she smiled shyly, shook her head, her shoulder-length blond hair shimmering in the noon sun. The guy eyed her long after she walked away from him, staring admiringly at her from over his aviator-style dark lenses.

  Hell, Rick totally understood. He’d have given her a third look. And that was another thing he liked about her. She had a head-turning body, great hair, perfect face and she took it all in stride. Maybe her strict upbringing had something to do with keeping her centered. Whatever, she sure had her act together.

  He’d forgotten that he dropped her off in front of the entrance and then found a shady place to park. He only remembered when he saw her hesitate at the curb and look around as if she were confused, and he flagged her down.

  She smiled as she climbed into the Jeep. “Interesting store,” she said. “I’m going to have to go back and pick up a few things for my family before I leave.”

  “I’m sure you’ve noticed that there’s one on just about every corner in Waikiki. Thirty-seven of them within a one-mile radius to be exact. Another twenty-seven around Honolulu and on the other islands.”

  She laughed. “What did you do, drive around and count them?”

  “Nope.” Rick started the engine. “I tried to buy stock.”

  7

  LINDSEY HAD CALLED both Mia and Shelby right up to the time she and Rick reached the hotel lobby. She’d even tried calling both rooms directly. If they were there, they weren’t answering. Though she doubted they’d be wasting such a beautiful day in the room. Shelby had texted something about Mia seeing the guy she’d met during spring break at the bar. Maybe they’d found each other again. Still, she didn’t want to take Rick to the room and risk having anyone walk in on them.

  They got to the elevator, and she pressed the call button, her mind skipping around for a way she could explain that she needed some privacy without him thinking she was ditching him. It looked as if she were going to have to just spit it out. She took a deep breath and glanced over at him.

  He smiled. “I’m not going up with you.”

  “You’re not?”

  He removed his sunglasses and hung them off the neckline of his shirt. “Go get your shower, talk to your friends.” He touched her hair. “Take your time, Lindsey. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Get a room, if they have one available. If not, I’ll try the hotel across the street.”

  For a horrifying instant she thought he’d given up on taking her to his place. “I thought we were going to the North Shore.”

  “We are, but it’s a two-hour round-trip, so it makes sense for me to have a room here.” He rubbed his shadowed jaw. “I can shave, shower, keep a change of clothes for when we’re in Waikiki.”

  “I hate for you to spend the money,” she said, knowing that he was trying to make things easier for her. “But with the three of us sharing two rooms, I can’t really—”

  “I know.” He nudged her chin up and brushed a kiss across her lips. “We’ll meet at the pool when you’re ready. You have my number.”

  She nodded, and heard the elevator ding. “I’ll be at least an hour.” She took a step backward, then moved aside for a family to enter the car, without breaking eye contact with him.

  It was silly. They were only going to be apart for an hour or two, but she already hated the thought. She boarded the elevator last, then turned to face the lobby. He was still standing there watching her as the doors slid closed. At the last second he winked, and her stupid heart fluttered like a nervous butterfly.

  This was amazing. He was amazing. Last week she’d harbored a cautious hope that he’d somehow magically show up. At every turn she’d warned herself against disappointment. The chances were slim that he’d have the opportunity, much less want to see her again. But this was so much better than she had imagined.

  “What floor?”

  Lindsey blinked at the scowling teenage girl with the dyed pink stripe through her hair. From the tone of her voice, the question had been asked more than once.

  “Seven. Thanks.” Lindsey ignored the other two kids giggling behind her and let herself daydream about Rick.

  There was so much more she still had to learn about him. Like how he had the money to invest in stocks. No, her curiosity wasn’t about him having the discretionary funds as much as it was about his ambition to invest. He was only twenty-nine, no steady job and obviously no steady paycheck. Yet he carried a lot of cash and didn’t seem reluctant to spend it. Which made her think inheritance, but the way he’d described his family, she didn’t think so.

  She’d done well financially, especially for someone her age, and that was the only reason she felt comfortable enough taking a risk on the new business with Mia and Shelby. But she’d scrimped a lot to build her small nest egg, and she sure never had enough to gamble on the stock market. She hoped he wasn’t trying to impress her.

  A few seconds of consideration and she rejected the idea. He wasn’t the type. Besides, he had enough going for him that he didn’t have to pad his appeal.

  The elevator stopped at her floor, and as she headed toward the rooms there were no Do Not Disturb signs hanging from either of the doorknobs. She got out her key card and let herself in, already dreading having to look in the mirror.

  Once she was inside and saw that the connecting door was open, she called out. It didn’t appear that Mia or Shelby was there.

  She had mixed feelings about not being able to talk to them. While she wanted to assure hersel
f that they were busy having fun, she wasn’t quite ready to talk about Rick. They’d want details she wasn’t willing to share.

  After dropping her purse and the bag with the self-tanning lotion on the console table, she went straight for the shower. As she stripped, her thoughts, of course, went back to Rick. Understandable, except that her curse in life was to overanalyze everything. Didn’t seem to matter that she’d sworn up and down that this trip would be a nonthinking, hedonistic vacation.

  Sighing, she leaned into the stall and adjusted the shower spray, proud of herself for resisting the urge to look in the mirror. If she did, she knew full well she’d fixate on every single flaw, real or imagined. For once Lindsey would not allow her worst enemy to win.

  HIS HAIR STILL WET, a towel wrapped around his hips, Rick tore the price tags off the two new T-shirts and red swim trunks he’d bought at the ABC store across the street. If he ended up spending the night in Waikiki, he’d have to buy another pair of shorts, but he hoped it worked out that they could take off later for his place. The important thing was not to rush Lindsey.

  For the third time since he’d checked in to the hotel an hour ago, his phone beeped. He knew what it was, someone texting or tweeting that surf was up at Waimea, but he checked anyway, in case it was Wally. Rick had left a message for him at In Motion, checking to make sure everything was okay at the shop in case he didn’t make it out there tonight.

  Rick checked his emails, laughed at the stupid joke his ten-year-old nephew had sent him and then cursed at the price increase his polyurethane supplier was implementing in time for summer surfboard demand. The guy was a shark. No reason the cost should be going up, other than the fact he could get away with it. It really sucked because Rick wouldn’t pass on the added cost to his customers. Too many of them were local kids who busted their boards or had them jacked, and couldn’t afford to replace them.

  As it was he had more employees than the shop warranted. He rarely turned down a poor kid who earnestly wanted their own board. But he never gave anything away. He made them work around the store to pay off the cost. His financial planner had called him three kinds of crazy, but he shrugged it off. As long as the store supported itself—and didn’t suck him dry—and his surfing prize money paid the rest of the bills, Rick didn’t care.