Delicious Do-Over

by Debbi Rawlins

  “Your shop?” she asked, and he nodded. “I thought we were close to your place.”

  “We are.”

  “Maybe I could drop off my bag first.” She kept her gaze level with his, waiting for guilt to creep across his face.

  “Give me a half hour.” He didn’t even blink. “In Motion is on the way.”

  “Sure.” She turned her head and stared toward the vast blue ocean, aware that he was dividing his attention between her and reversing the Jeep.

  He had to know something was wrong. Maybe he knew her better than she apparently knew him. If he was seeing someone seriously, then good for him. But he’d had no business showing up at the hotel to meet her.

  Lindsey sniffed quietly. Or making her fall just a little bit in love with him.

  “WHERE IS EVERYBODY?” Rick scooped a discarded gum wrapper off the tile floor and dropped it in a wastebasket behind the counter.

  He’d taken her hand and led her into the large airy shop filled with surfboards. But it hadn’t escaped her notice that he let go as soon as he saw the older man hefting a red-and-white board up onto a display shelf. He wore a tan tank top that showed off surprisingly buff arms and long baggy blue shorts the same shade as his rubber flip-flops. With his long wiry hair and unkempt mostly gray beard he looked like an aging hippie.

  “Sunset,” he said gruffly, turning to Rick. “Where do you think?” The man’s piercing black gaze shifted to Lindsey. “You must be—” His bushy brows drew into a frown.

  “Lindsey,” Rick offered. “This old grouch is Wally.”

  “I’d shake your hand but I got crap all over mine.” He inspected his rough callused palms, and muttered, “No wonder since I’ve been doing all the work around here lately.”

  With a faint smile, Rick winked at her. “Wally runs the show and keeps everyone in line.”

  “Including you.” Wally stared blatantly at Lindsey, his craggy face a perpetual frown, and then switched his attention to Rick. “She’s a knockout. What’s she doing with you?”

  “Haven’t figured that out yet.” Rick hugged her against his side and kissed her heated cheek. “What did Deanna say? Does she want cash or credit applied toward her next board?”

  “Cash,” Wally said, glancing again at Lindsey, his speculative gaze moving over her face, down her body. Not insolent, but curious. “She just called. She split but didn’t get to the patio.”

  Rick spread his hands. “The patio?” he said irritably. “What could they have—” He sighed, shook his head in defeat.

  “Hey, bro, don’t shoot the messenger.” Wally chuckled, oblivious to Rick’s annoyance. “You got a minute to go over some invoices?”

  “No.” Rick dug into his pocket, pulled out some cash and counted out a few twenties. “Is this enough?”

  Wally shrugged. “Too much, but I know you’ll give it to her anyway.”

  Lindsey walked over to a rack of T-shirts and tank tops, absently sifting through them as she vaguely listened to the men go back and forth. Rick sent her a couple of apologetic glances but she waved them off. The truth was, she was glad for the opportunity to be with her own thoughts. Her very morose thoughts.

  She couldn’t help but think this stop was a stall tactic. It made her sick to consider that Wally knew what Rick was doing. That he was buying time to get rid of one woman so he could replace her with another. Maybe that’s why Wally had sized her up.

  Clenching her teeth, she ordered herself to stop torturing herself. Rick was a free agent. So was she. Sure, last night had been incredible for her, more than she’d anticipated. It was supposed to be about sex, that’s all, but she’d felt as if they’d connected on a different level, as if there might be a tiny spark that would carry them beyond this week. But apparently she was wrong. It wasn’t his problem, it was hers. They had a silent agreement. One splendid hedonistic week of madness, and then back to their old lives. She couldn’t blame him for actually having a life.

  But deep down she did. She blamed herself, too, for thinking she was open-minded and sophisticated enough to walk away from the encounter unscathed. Good grief, what had happened to her? She was more sensible than this. She knew herself better than to risk becoming emotionally involved.

  She breathed in, slowly breathed out, trying to clear her head. Maybe she was simply over tired and over-reacting. Maybe there was another explanation for what she’d overhead. That was entirely possible.

  Wally’s hearty laugh pierced her preoccupation. He and Rick were trading barbs, which she doubted was for her entertainment. The two men seemed to have a gruff affection for one another and only an hour ago she would’ve enjoyed listening to them. Right now, all she wanted to do was to return to Waikiki. In fact, the next flight to Chicago wasn’t out of the question.

  “Hey.” Rick was suddenly beside her, his hand at the small of her back. When he tried to kiss the side of her neck, she moved her head.

  “The T-shirt you wore the other day,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “It had your shop’s logo. I didn’t know—”

  “Lindsey.” He rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She darted a look toward the register where she’d last seen Wally. He wasn’t there. “Your friend…he seems like a real character.”

  “Yep. I’ve known him for five years. He runs the shop. Whether I’m here or not. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

  “I’m glad for you.”

  He hesitated, and she knew he was studying her, trying to figure out what was going on, but she couldn’t look at him. He read her too well, and she was feeling pretty miserable. And the last thing she wanted was his pity.

  “Look,” he said finally, “I only wanted to drop off the money and introduce you to Wally. We can leave anytime you want.”

  A nasty remark about the coast being clear teetered at the tip of her tongue, but she thought better of it. “Sure.”

  “Why don’t you pick out some tanks and shirts for yourself and your friends? You know, a souvenir from the North Shore.”

  She looked at him then because he sounded nervous. His hazel eyes were dark and troubled as they met hers. Did he finally understand that she knew what was going on?

  Silently, she cleared her throat. “We should go.”

  “Right. We’ll be dropping by here again. You’ll have more time to check out the merchandise.” His mouth lifted in a worried smile. “Wally’s in the back. I’ll tell him we’re leaving.”

  She managed to return his smile, desperately wanting to ask him about the phone call. She didn’t want to say she’d eavesdropped, but more than that, she didn’t want to see him lie. But this wasn’t the time or place. She would ask him, though, either in the car or at his home. She’d be able to tell if he was hiding something, if there was someone important in his life. If necessary, she’d ask him to take her back to Waikiki, or she’d spring for a cab.

  Heck, maybe she should just go ahead and do that anyway. No matter what, she already was in over her head.

  12

  HIS HOUSE WASN’T PRECISELY on the beach but sat on a large plot of partially wooded land across the two-lane road. He drove them down a short driveway and pulled the Jeep under a carport attached to a single-story wood house.

  The coastal drive had been short, under ten minutes, and with Rick enthusiastically pointing out the sights along the way, Lindsey still hadn’t decided how to broach the subject of her return to Waikiki. Every time she snuck a glance at him, or he flashed that darn big Hollywood smile at her, her resolve weakened. Hadn’t he given her exactly what she’d come for? Fun and sex.

  She cringed just thinking of how slutty that sounded, and then gave herself a mental shake. Sex was a natural healthy impulse. Though they didn’t sleep around, Mia and Shelby were sexually active. No one judged them, and no one should. It was time to cut herself some slack.

  She had only four full days left in Hawaii. There was no reason she couldn’t ignore that stupid brain of hers a
nd simply enjoy herself.

  But then she flashed back on the stunning women she’d seen strolling the North Shore beaches, not tourists, but local women with hard tan bodies that could make a grown man weep, and her incredibly foolish brain went to that dark, dark place. North Shore seemed to be a small community. How many of them were sleeping with Rick?

  She’d bet none of them would refuse Rick a darn thing. Or blush over his sexy suggestions. Why would he chase anyone out of his house for her? Was she simply a novelty? Flavor of the week? Her heart sank like an anchor to the pit of her stomach. Darn him for having made her feel so special, for making her romanticize that she was the only one in his life. Even if it was for one measly week. He was with her, not any of them, she reasoned. Couldn’t she just enjoy the fantasy?

  So much for turning off her doubts.

  Caught up in her one-woman pity party, she hadn’t realized he’d cut the engine and was staring at her. He reached for her hand, gave her a sad resigned smile. “What’s wrong, Linds? You’re not yourself.” When she was too busy kicking herself to answer, he said, “You expected a nicer house, maybe?”

  She hoped her glare told him what she thought of that remark. Then she just sighed. “When I was a kid, I never once heard the word sex spoken at home. I never even said the word until I was in my twenties. It was crazy.”

  He blinked, gave a short laugh. “Okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. “Don’t know how to respond to that.”

  Lindsey slumped against the seat, embarrassed and frustrated. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”

  He caught her chin, brought her gaze back to him. “We pushed some boundaries last night,” he said quietly. “It’s probably normal for you to be thinking back on things you were raised to consider taboo.”

  It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be gorgeous and understanding?

  “You’re having regrets, aren’t you?” he said, weaving his hand through her hair.

  She thought about it for a second. “No, I’m not.” She gazed deeply into his eyes and swallowed around the lump in her throat. “You look as if you are, though.”

  “My only regret would be if I hurt you in any way.” His hand slipped around to cup her head, and he drew her toward him. He gave her a chaste kiss on her lips.

  “Then—” She almost said “don’t,” but stopped herself just in time. “Then hurry up and show me your house.”

  The truth was suddenly crystal clear. She would inevitably end up hurt, but it would be her own damn fault.

  RICK CARRIED IN her small flight bag, and she took in the sack with the coffee and box of chocolates. He insisted they go in through the front door and not the carport door that led to the kitchen, which Lindsey thought was kind of cute because she assumed it was about her first impression. But she quickly learned he had a more practical motive. He didn’t seem sure about the condition of the house. Had he been the last to leave, he would’ve known, she reasoned, which took her right back to that stupid dark place in her hapless brain.

  He took her bag to the bedroom, presumably inspecting the house along the way. She waited in the living room, which was small, furnished with only a leather couch and a glass table. But the best part of the room was the large plate glass window, where she stared out at the spectacular view of the ocean. In the distance, two sailboats glided through the sparkling blue water. Closer to shore a group of kids bodysurfed. It was pretty incredible, so beautiful and serene.

  She glanced over at him when he appeared from the back of the house. “If I lived here, I would never leave this place. This spot.”

  “My bedroom has the same view.” From behind, he circled his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder, pressed his cheek to hers. “Want to see the rest of the house, or do you want to make out?”

  Lindsey laughed. So did Rick.

  She crossed her arms over his and leaned back against his chest. “It’s quiet here.”

  “Occasionally the traffic noise can be annoying, but at night it’s pretty cool, you can hear the waves break.”

  “You lucked out finding this spot.” She knew real estate like this was pricey, which made her curious, but not enough to be rude and ask. “Did you have the house built?”

  “Nope. It’s actually twenty years old, but the previous owners had it totally remodeled.”

  “Aren’t you afraid someone will build in front of you and block your view?”

  “I own the land all the way to the highway. The beach is public. So, yeah, I really did luck out.”

  “What about hurricanes? Isn’t it scary to be this close to the water?”

  He hugged her tighter, and she could feel his smile against her cheek. “Even paradise isn’t perfect, sweetheart. But damn sure worth the risk.”

  That was one of the many differences between them. Rick wasn’t just willing to make changes or take risks, he took the initiative, while she hid in the corner of her safe little life, watching the world go by, content knowing that her future was secure as long as she didn’t step over the line. When she thought about it like that, her existence back in Chicago seemed rather sad. All the more reason to be glad she’d thrown in with Mia and Shelby. Taking the risk would probably end up being the best decision she’d ever made.

  “Want a tour?” he asked. “Only two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a closet-size office and the kitchen. Won’t take long. Then we’ll hit the beach.”

  “Oh, great.” She glanced down at the pale contrast of her arms against his. “I’m so ridiculously white maybe I’ll get lucky and blend into the sand.”

  He leaned away to look at her, an eyebrow cocked in amusement. “Blend in? No way. You’re one of a kind. Come on.”

  She smiled in spite of herself, then let him take her by the hand to the back of the house. He hadn’t been kidding about the place being small. Though the master bedroom was large with that killer view of the ocean, and the adjoining bath had a big ol’ whirlpool she had every intention of sinking into. But the other bedroom was smaller, hosting a double bed, no headboard, no nightstand. A brass lamp sat on a cardboard box.

  The tiny office surprised her. Unlike the sparsely furnished rest of the house, a desk, two computers, and wall-to-wall shelves crammed with books crowded the room. Oddly, it wasn’t messy, just sort of overflowing. In fact, the house was impressively neat and clean. She wondered if the woman he’d chased out had done his housekeeping.

  No, not allowed. She wasn’t going to go there and spoil the rest of her week. With some effort she replaced the doubts with white noise, and preceded him to the kitchen.

  The incredibly state-of-the-art kitchen.

  “Whoa.” She stopped abruptly in the doorway, jolted into taking a step when Rick ran into her. “This is amazing.”

  “Yes, and no, I don’t cook.”

  “Then why?” She swept an arm toward the stainless steel appliances, not the inexpensive models, but the subzero, convection brands that serious cooks dreamed of owning once they won the lottery. There was a large butcher-block island, lots of gleaming black-and-white tile and gray granite.

  “This is the way the house came. Boosted the price, but that’s okay. I’ll get it back and more on resale.”

  “You’re thinking of selling?”

  “Not right now, but that could change.”

  For whatever reason, that he could even consider selling shocked her. “This place suits you,” she said. “Yeah, I mean the house certainly, but this whole area, with the beaches and laid-back lifestyle…”

  “For now it does.” He shrugged. “Look at you, moving from Chicago to New York to start a business. Two years ago did you imagine you’d be taking this step?”

  She faked a shudder. “I can’t imagine I’m doing it now.”

  Rick grinned, and gestured toward the back door. “It’s good to shake things up. You don’t know where you’re going to land but it might be a better place.”

  “Or in an alley somewhere.”<
br />
  “Quite an imagination for an accountant.”

  Through the window over the sink, she saw something outside, a sunroom maybe, but the way the sun was shining into the window it was hard to tell. “What’s out there?”

  “Um, it’s supposed to be a patio/outdoor living area, or whatever you want to call it.”

  She could see a fire pit and a massive barbecue island partially sheltered by flowering plumeria trees and lush ferns. “May I go see?”

  “I don’t know.” He peered between two parted blinds with a doubtful frown.

  “Sorry.” She stepped back. “I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

  “It’s not that. Besides my office, that’s my favorite place to hang out. The problem is that I’m not sure what kind of condition it’s in.”

  “From the weather?”

  He snorted. “A tornado can cause less damage.” He let go of the blinds. “Occasionally I let a few of the kids that work at the shop crash here. My office and back there are supposed to be off-limits, but sometimes they get carried away and…” He shook his head, plowing a frustrated hand through his hair.

  “The place looks clean,” Lindsey remarked.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not sure how it looked a few hours ago.” He noticed a water ring on the granite countertop and used a dishtowel to rub it off. “Before I left for Waikiki I specifically said no one could crash here until further notice. I didn’t want you coming back with me and thinking I was this total slob.”

  She grinned. How adorable was that?

  He opened the refrigerator and offered her a choice between a diet cola and a beer. She took the cola. He got another one out for himself. “Some of the kids around here have pretty bad home lives. I’m not stupid about it, but I do have an open-door policy to a select few. They’re generally respectful of my things, and then again I don’t keep much stuff around. But sometimes other kids follow them over here and things get out of hand. I’ve only had to call the cops twice.”

  Her brows shot up. “Only?”

  “That’s in four years. Trust me, with the kind of crap that goes on with some of these kids, that’s not bad.”