Almost Paradise

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Almost Paradise Page 5

by Chris Keniston


  Leaning away from the car, she took hold of his arm and sidled up to him, her head resting easily on his upper arm. “No one calls me Angel.”

  “It suits you.” He guided her across the carport under the house. One handed he found the yellow key and looked at the two doors. The letter D displayed prominently on the left door.

  Together they maneuvered the steps to her second-floor apartment. The kitchen anchored the space to one side, followed by an eating area, which then opened to the large living space with a wall of windows leading to an equally large wooden deck. Lexie was right. The view was phenomenal.

  “Would you like something to drink? Coffee?

  Tea? Diet cola?” She’d stepped away so she was no longer leaning on him, but her hand remained on his arm. From the way she tried not to teeter, he’d guess she was still using him for balance.

  Maybe if he could get her to sit, she’d let him make her some coffee. “No, thank you. Lexie tells me you have a great view.”

  “Mm.” Slowly lifting her arm, she turned and meandered her way to the patio doors, flipped the lever, and slid them open. Drawing in a deep breath, she smiled. “I love the night air.”

  A round table with four chairs took up one area of the deck, and two lounge chairs with a smaller table between them occupied the opposite end. Silently they stood in the middle. Part of him not wanting to move for fear she’d topple over. Another part simply not wanting to move away.

  Any minute he expected her to take a seat at the table or perhaps lie on the loungers. It hadn’t occurred to him she’d turn in place and smack into him—again. Nearly falling on him had become a habit this evening. Once upon a time, a habit he would have gladly taken full advantage of.

  Ready to step back and give her some room, surprise slapped him in the face when she slid her arms around his neck and inched up on her tippy toes. And then he felt it. Tender lips against his. The feather-light touch of fingertips swirling at the back of his neck. Soft breasts pressed against the hard of his chest. And old glory standing at full attention.

  Chapter Six

  How long had it been? Eager to feel the strength of a man, this man, under her fingers, Angela slowly dragged her hands away from Billy’s neck and down a not-so-steady path to his waist.

  Two strong hands captured her wrists like iron manacles and yanked her backward. In a sobering flash, she realized he hadn’t been kissing her back. Teeth clenched, his jaw twitched with…irritation? Oh God. What had she done?

  Embarrassment heated her cheeks and tied her tongue. Turning away, she struggled to pull free from his hold on her and nearly fell over backward.

  “Easy,” he coaxed like a doctor coaching a pregnant woman through delivery.

  And why go there?

  “Please. Let me go.” Eyes closed, she prayed he’d release her and leave. Mortified didn’t begin to cover the feelings washing over her. Never again was she drinking those deliciously vile margaritas. How would she ever face this man again?

  His grip loosened. Her hands free now, Angela straightened her spine and started for the stairs. If God was good to her, Billy would follow her and keep going straight out the door. She’d never have to look at him. The Big Island Dive shop and all its men were officially off limits. Now that she’d thrown herself at Billy like any two-bit hussy, avoiding him and his place of business would be the new status quo.

  Using extra care to descend the stairs leading to the front door, Angela forced a casual smile, and tried not to squirm as his footsteps fell heavily behind her, one slightly louder than the other. She would not turn and look. What an idiot she’d been. A lonely, scared idiot.

  Half-hidden behind the now-open front door, she didn’t look over when Billy reached the bottom.

  “Will you be okay alone?” he asked.

  Nodding her head and blinking, she swallowed hard and wished he’d asked about anything except being alone. Are you sober now? Feeling steadier? Any nausea? But alone.

  It started with one escaped tear trickling down her cheek. Followed by one large thumb swiping the droplet away and a deep gentle voice asking, “Hey, what’s this?”

  Reminded now not of the doctor but the loving husband caring for his wife during the birth of their child, the dam burst. In seconds she was swallowed by Billy’s warmth. His arms loosely looped around her, one hand drawing soothing circles on her back, the other lightly patting her head as she sobbed into his shirt.

  “I’m sorry, Angel.”

  She wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but the rumble in his chest as he spoke made her understand why kittens could be quieted by the rhythmic beat of a ticking clock. Hitching in several short breaths, she managed to stay the flood of tears that of course had to be followed by…hiccups.

  “Hold your breath and swallow.” His hands stopped moving, and she wanted to start crying all over.

  “Come on.” Keeping her tucked under his arm with her head awkwardly leaning against him, Billy led her back up the stairs, across the entry, and over to the sofa. Easing her onto the seat, he looked over his shoulder to the kitchen. “Let me get you a glass of water.”

  All she could manage was a nod. Hadn’t she made enough of a fool of herself? Last week passing out at the dive shop. Earlier tonight making an unwelcome pass. Just the thought she’d done anything so brazen and stupid made her want to slither off the couch and hide underneath. And to top it off, she’d broken down and cried like a teenage girl. His shirt was probably soaked.

  Finding the courage to look up in the direction he’d gone, she noticed him favoring his one leg. He must be tired. And yet instead of racing out the door when he had the chance, he’d brought her back upstairs to…to what?

  “Why are you still here?” Oh, holy mother. Definitely no more margaritas in her future. Maybe she should jump off the balcony and put everyone out of their misery. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  Standing in front of her, he held out the glass of cool water. “Three younger sisters.” “What?”

  “Why I’m still here. You were crying.”

  She sucked in a breath, blinked back a wayward tear, and nodded. Oh yeah.

  “Can’t grow up with three sisters and not understand there’s a lot more to that kind of crying than a few too many margaritas.” Billy pointed to the other end of the sofa. “Mind if I sit?”

  “You’re not mad at me?”

  His forehead creased in perplexed thought. “Why would I be mad?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because a drunken lunatic tried to force herself on you?” Somehow saying it out loud made her feel better. Not much, but better.

  Brows previously curled in confusion shot up with surprise. “Forced?”

  “Can we just forget about tonight?”

  “Which part?”

  “All of it. The drinking, the crying, the kissing.”

  Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, his mouth curved in a lazy smile. “Might be able to forget the drinking if you don’t make a habit out of it. The crying will depend on what made you cry. But the kissing is going to be damned difficult to forget.”

  Why was he smiling at her?

  “Let’s make a deal.” His hand fell to his side. “Tell me what brought on the tears, and maybe I can promise to forget the crying.”

  Did she really want to go there? “Too many margaritas.”

  “I’m not buying.” Propping a sofa cushion behind him, he leaned back. “Try again. What’s going on? Does it have something to do with the fainting and the laparoscopy?”

  “Maybe.” Her feet tucked underneath her, she grabbed a throw pillow and began fidgeting with the trim. “You might say I’m feeling a little sorry for myself.”

  Billy didn’t respond. His silence prompted her to continue.

  “According to my doctor, and the additional information I’ve gathered on my own, after the procedure I should have a two-year window for improved fertility.”

  “As in decre
ased fertility now?” His face was unreadable, but that single muscle along his jaw tensed.

  “I wouldn’t know.” She took a quick sip of water. “I don’t even know for sure that I have endometriosis. But from everything I’ve read, the symptoms fit. And from everything I’ve read, having a house full of children probably won’t be in the cards for me anymore.”

  “You said two years.”

  “I’ve been looking for Mr. Right since the day I graduated high school. I’m already twelve years behind the curve.”

  “Right. Love, marriage, and pregnant, in that order.”

  “You remembered.”

  “Hard to forget.” The corners of his mouth lifted briefly, giving the hint of a smile.

  “I thought men only remembered football teams and baseball scores.”

  This time his lips curved in a full-blown grin. “Not giving us much credit?”

  “Sorry. Not feeling very generous tonight with the male species.”

  “What did we do now?”

  “I’m still waiting for one of the good guys to notice what a great catch I am.”

  The amused grin slid away. “You don’t…I mean… This wasn’t all… Are we talking about Nick?”

  “God, no. Not that I would have turned him down a year or two ago, but like the sixth-grade schoolgirl who outgrows her crush on the handsome new history teacher, I’ve moved on. Well, maybe lost interest would be more accurate. It’s hard to move on when you have a way of disappearing into the scenery where men are concerned.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Then explain Harry.”

  “Who?”

  “The last guy I went out with. Three dinner dates and one dispassionate good-night kiss. He might as well have been kissing a piece of furniture.”

  “That’s easy. He’s either gay or a certified idiot.”

  “That coming from the man irritated by my kiss.”

  “Irritated? First it’s forced and now irritated. Where did you come up with that?”

  “When you pushed me away, I saw the anger in your eyes.”

  “You thought I was angry?” This time he shifted in his seat, leaning more heavily on his good side. “There are rules. Some can be ignored. Some bent. Some never broken. If you hadn’t overdone the margaritas, you wouldn’t have put the moves on me. Taking advantage of an intoxicated woman, the kind someone would introduce to their mother, is one rule any decent man won’t break.”

  “But you didn’t kiss me back. Not even a little.”

  “You caught me by surprise. You’ve barely waved hello to me the past two years, and according to Lexie you’ve stopped coming by the shop in order to avoid me—”

  “I’m not avoiding you.” She must have noticed the incredulity in his eyes because she quickly hefted a shoulder in a casual shrug and added, “It’s embarrassing fainting in a man’s arms and then having the people in the room discussing that time of the month while you’re out cold.”

  “All the more reason why having you lay one on me was a bit unexpected.”

  “I’m sorry. But I’m sober now and promise not to accost you anymore.”

  And wasn’t that a damn shame. Briefly Billy considered how she’d react sober if he crossed the small space between them and kissed her. Sober she’d probably pass out again. Making sure to remind him of all the reasons women, nice or otherwise, were no longer a part of his life, a brief stabbing pain shot up his leg.

  “It’s late. I should let you go.”

  He caught her glance flickering to where his hand had absentmindedly been rubbing his thigh. Over time whenever phantom pain struck, often with no thought, he’d massage the side of his leg until either the pain was gone or he no longer noticed. But the lady was right. It had been a long night, and he was too tempted to taste those lips for real. Definitely time to go.

  Pushing to his feet, he surveyed her one last time, making sure she wouldn’t fall down the stairs or off the lanai. Neither was likely as she stood steadily beside him now, but the hurt in her eyes lingered.

  “For the record, I wasn’t angry.” He put another step between them. “And you didn’t force yourself on me.” And still another step. “But it’s late. If you’re feeling better, I really should go.”

  “I am.” She followed him, shortening the distance between them. Again. “Thank you so much for seeing me home and letting me cry on your shoulder.”

  Damn. So intent on escaping temptation to do something stupid, something they’d both regret with the rising sun, he hadn’t learned what all the tears were for. Torn between asking more questions and exiting before making a fool of himself, he hesitated just long enough for her to close the last gap between them.

  “Thank you.”

  Her hand on his arm sent a surge of heat through him that settled uncomfortably below his belt. Definitely time to get out of here. “That’s what friends are for.”

  “Friends,” she repeated. “I think I’d like that.”

  With only a nod, he followed her out of the room and down the stairs. After a chorus of mumbled good nights, he continued out the door. In his car, a longing to slip away from the world and lose himself in the quiet of the ocean tugged hard and strong at his insides like a toddler plucking at the strings of a toy ukulele. But he didn’t do water anymore. Turning the car in the direction of the twenty-four hour gym instead, he decided working himself into exhaustion was the only way to stay the ghosts. Or maybe tonight, if he slept, instead of nightmares he’d be able to dream.

  * * *

  “It will only take a few minutes.” Lexie threw the car into park and opened the door. “Coming?” Angela considered saying she had an important phone call to return, or needed to check her email, but her friend would know both were lies. All her real estate clients were now in the capable hands of a coworker for the next few days, so she might as well stop stalling, go inside, and face the man. Lexie had spent all week trying to get her to stop by the shop, and she’d spent all week making excuses. Billy had called himself a friend, but she still felt mostly mortified over her drunken behavior. No time like the present to face one’s fears. Or in this case, her embarrassments.

  Pulling on the handle, Angela pushed the door open and swung her legs out. Why did facing a firing squad hold more appeal than seeing Billy Everrett? Maybe he wasn’t here. And maybe it would snow in Kona Bay this summer. The man never left the dive shop. He put the w in workaholic.

  She hurried to catch up to Lexie, who was holding the door open for her.

  “I still can’t believe I left my wallet. That is so not like me.” Lexie preceded her inside. “I’d have felt awful if I’d noticed later at the restaurant and not now at the gas station.”

  If it weren’t for the absolute panic that slid across Lexie’s face at the gas pump when she dug into her purse, Angela would almost believe Lexie had done this on purpose to get her into the shop. Though she couldn’t figure out why it mattered so much to Lexie.

  “Ladies.” Billy stood beside Jonathan, looked up, nodded, and then returned his attention to the papers in front of them.

  Angela nodded back, and while Lexie went to the partners’ office, Angela walked over to the new children’s displays. “Wow.”

  Billy glanced in her direction, “Yeah, Kara and Lexie did a good job.”

  “Kara?” Ignoring the hive of bees nervously buzzing inside her, she glanced over her shoulder at Billy.

  “She had a little time. The lawyer business is slow to catch on, so Lexie recruited her to help,” he explained.

  Picking up a storybook on Honu Turtle, she wished she hadn’t brushed off all the requests to come by. She would have enjoyed setting up the children’s corner. So engrossed in the display, she didn’t sense Billy standing behind her until he breathed her name.

  “Angel.”

  It took every bit of self-discipline she could muster not to stumble back. “This is really nice.”

  As if he knew how hard looking
him in the face was for her, he kept his focus on the wall of children’s snorkeling gear. “It’s proving to be a big hit.”

  “The displays or the program?” The nervous hive in her stomach had calmed to only one or two buzzing bees.

  “Both. We have our first birthday party next Saturday. Actually two. One at eleven a.m. and the other at four p.m.”

  “That’s wonderful.” A genuine smiled tugged at the corners of her mouth. She was happy for Nick and Billy. This whole idea would be a huge success. And based on Dr. Shepherd’s comments at the birthday party, he seemed to agree the junior programs might be a great tool to help kids who had suffered a painful loss heal. A win-win for everyone. “Absolutely wonderful,” she repeated.

  Hands clasped behind his back, feet spread slightly, he turned to face her. She could feel his gaze studying, gauging something. Perhaps measuring his words. “When Lexie requested the next couple of days off, we didn’t expect to be seeing either of you.”

  “She forgot her wallet after making an online purchase yesterday.”

  “I, uh, almost called you.”

  Her heart took a short stumble before beating again and supplying her lungs with enough oxygen to answer. “Oh, what did you need?”

  “Nothing really, just wanted to make sure all was well with you.”

  “As well as can be expected. I’ll know more soon.”

  “When is your…procedure scheduled?” His gaze remained fixed on hers.

  “Tomorrow morning. We’re running some last minute errands, stocking up on supplies for the next few days. Then I’ll be…taking it easy.”

  “Yes, well. If you need anything, you know you can call here.

  “That’s very sweet of you. Thank—”

  “Billy. Did you see this call from Lt. Jim Borden?” Lexie came out from the office, her wallet in one hand and a half sheet of paper waving in the other.

  Having spun around 180 degrees, Billy faced Lexie. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the yellow notepaper. “Yes.”

 

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