Delicious Do-Over Page 15

  “Can I help you with something?” He had to be about sixteen, but he had a deep voice, slightly accented with a local inflection she was beginning to recognize.

  “Do you work here?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, well—”

  The other boy stepped up and shouldered the first one, his big dark eyes instantly familiar to her. “Dude, better chill. That’s the boss’s lady.”

  She smiled. “Hi, Ryan.”

  He jerked his chin by way of greeting.

  Wisely, she refrained from asking how he was doing in front of his friend. “You work here, too?” she asked him.

  Ryan nodded. “I’m a shaper.” When the other kid gave him a dry look, he added defensively, “Boss is teaching me.”

  She had no idea what being a shaper meant but it sounded like an important job judging by the pride in his voice. “I’m Lindsey,” she said to the other boy.

  “I’m Kai.” He boldly sized her up. “You live here?”

  “I’m visiting.”

  “Just the young man I wanted to see.” Rick’s voice came from the back of the store, making Ryan cringe.

  He muttered a curse under his breath, darted a brief, pleading look at Lindsey, then hung his head and shuffled in his rubber flip-flops toward the back.

  “Lindsey, I’ll only be a few minutes,” Rick called out.

  She started to tell him to take his time then realized Ryan wouldn’t appreciate that. Uncomfortable under Kai’s intense scrutiny, she turned back to the posters.

  “Ever seen him surf?” Kai asked, his dark piercing gaze swinging from her to one of the posters.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Boss,” he said impatiently, his gaze narrowing as if he didn’t trust her. Odd because he’d been flirty at first.

  She focused on the poster, moving in closer. Her gaze zeroed in on Rick’s name in black letters in the corner, then widened on the man partly crouched on the surfboard, an enormous wall of water curling over him.

  “That was Waimea at thirty.” It was Wally’s voice behind her. “Kai, you have work to do outside in the shed.”

  Lindsey slowly turned around, vaguely aware of Kai’s long parting look as he wove his way around the racks to the door.

  “Don’t mind him,” Wally said. “He doesn’t understand why Rick won’t go pro anymore. Sees everything and everyone as an obstacle.”

  She frowned. “Pro surfing?”

  Wally grinned. “Not a fan, huh?”

  She gave a sheepish shrug, her attention inexorably going back to the poster. “I mean, I knew Rick surfed, although…did he tell you what happened the other day?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He stroked his wiry beard. “He’s chewing Ryan out now. The boy will think twice before taking on those kinds of sets again. I guarantee you that.” He fixed his gaze on the poster. “The kids all listen to Rick. They know he gives a damn about them, makes sure they go to school, gives them jobs. That’s the only reason he has this shop.” Wally chuckled. “It ain’t because he makes any money at it.”

  Lindsey remembered something Pono said about Rick being a world-class surfer. At the time she’d been too frightened for his safety to give the remark any thought. “And that’s why he didn’t stay a pro?”

  Wally gave a noncommittal shrug. “He won a lot of big prize money, but he never committed to the sport. If you wanna be recognized, you gotta travel, you gotta surf full-time, accept endorsements. The big sponsors, they all want him.” He shrugged again. “Can’t treat it like a hobby. It’s all about commitment, plain and simple.”

  She lifted her chin. “Well, you’ll probably hate me for saying this, but I’m glad he’s not serious about it.” Her gaze went back to the poster. He looked beautiful, graceful, an athlete’s body. Easy to understand why sponsors wanted him. “It’s too dangerous,” she murmured. “In fact, I wish he’d never get on another surfboard again.”

  “That’s different.” Wally was looking at her with a strange expression.

  She blushed. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

  He laughed heartily at that. “Don’t think that’ll happen, him not ever surfing again, but I figure he’ll move on to the next thing soon enough. He doesn’t have the right drive. Rick doesn’t live for that next big wave.”

  “Is that so terrible?”

  “Not to me. Not to you.” His faint smile nearly hidden by his bushy beard, he added, “It is to the kids around here, to big names who want him to wear their logo. Lots of pressure.”

  It apparently mattered to a lot of women, too, she’d noticed. At the beach, at restaurants. Not that she blamed them. “Rick doesn’t strike me as someone who caves in to demands,” she said more indignantly than she’d intended, and glanced sheepishly toward the back. She had a lot of nerve discussing Rick, but she couldn’t resist one more question. “Why tell me all this?”

  “Because you’re somebody who matters to him.” Wally’s amused gaze swept her startled face, as he ran his hands over his ribs, much like a man who had just finished a satisfying meal. “And vice versa, seems to me. Guess it’s time for me to get back to work.” He turned away with a smile.

  “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  “Then you have a nice trip.” He said with an over-the-head wave and no backward glance.

  She stared after him, then at the poster, her heart doing double time. He was wrong. Rick clearly hadn’t shared their unspoken deal, for which she was grateful.

  “Ready?” Rick’s nearness made her start. He glanced at her empty hands. “You didn’t find anything?”

  She shrugged helplessly, not trusting her voice. Too much was swirling around in her head. From what she’d seen and from what Rick had told her himself, he and Wally were close. So what did the man know that she didn’t? He’d claimed she mattered to Rick. She had no reason not to believe him. Oh, how much she hoped it were true. Rick made her feel special and she knew he cared, but enough to make it work for them once she left for New York?

  He smiled, pulled her into his arms. “You’ll have to shop later. We need to go home.”

  “Why?” she asked breathlessly.

  He nuzzled her neck. “So I can talk you into staying an extra week.” He kissed her surprised mouth, murmuring against it, “And to get my way…I’m not gonna play fair.”

  15

  RICK HADN’T LIED. HE hadn’t played fair. Not even the teeniest bit. He’d had her stripped naked and close to begging for release within an hour of them crossing the threshold. The adorable creep had even played the pity card, pretending that with his injured shoulder he’d be helpless without her.

  As if she’d needed convincing. But she hadn’t given in all the way. He’d pushed hard for her to stay a week, but she’d stood firm, agreeing to two extra days. It killed her to make the compromise, but she had Mia and Shelby and their new business to consider. Though her friends had been great about everything, even urging her to take whatever time she needed.

  Lindsey still felt a little guilty, but there was something happening here in the North Shore, something she had the feeling was a turning point. A risk she was willing to take.

  What had totally impressed her was Rick’s organizational skills. He’d immediately set a plan in motion, making the roundtrip to Waikiki to pick up the rest of her luggage and making a list of must-see sights to maximize her remaining time. When she reminded him to check out of his suite, he’d already done it. Over breakfast he’d asked her about their new concierge/rental business, and gave her some great ideas they hadn’t considered. She’d teased him about the engineer in him showing, and he’d made a face, then quickly changed the subject.

  There were so many things she wanted to ask him—about his professional future, about surfing, about how long he thought he’d stay in Hawaii, all touchy topics with the potential of ruining their last days together. So she stayed silent.

  The day she originally was supposed to have left, the
y hiked to Waimea Falls and had a picnic lunch, then stopped at Waimea Bay. Everywhere they went people knew Rick. Whether it was at the small market where he shopped, at a restaurant or one of any number of beaches. It was crazy. Kind of overwhelming, sometimes annoying. Especially when other women acted as if she weren’t even there.

  At the bay, people were surfing, but the waves weren’t big, according to Rick, anyway, not for Waimea. They had to be at least seven feet, enough for Lindsey to clench her teeth. She was almost glad his shoulder still ached if it meant keeping him out of the water. When he suggested they stay in the Jeep and watch, she was all for it. Maybe she’d actually have him to herself.

  “What do those bumper stickers mean?” she asked, indicating the pair of small SUVs parked side by side, each displaying the same sticker that read…Eddie Would Go. “You have some T-shirts in your store with that saying.”

  Rick nodded. “It’s a reference to Eddie Aikau, a local legend. He was an award-winning big-wave surfer and the first lifeguard hired to police the North Shore back in the seventies. In all his years as a lifeguard, the guy never lost a single person here at Waimea Bay. And we’re talking thirty-foot waves or more at times. Other lifeguards wouldn’t go in during certain conditions, but not Eddie. Wish I’d known him.”

  “He’s—” She couldn’t say the word. All she could think about was the terrifying day at Sunset Beach when Rick had gone after Ryan.

  Rick narrowed his gaze on her. “He’s dead, but it wasn’t a surfing accident, if that’s what you’re thinking. I doubt you’ve ever heard of the Hokule’a.” She shook her head. “It was the name of a double-hulled voyaging canoe built by a local group who wanted to duplicate the voyage the ancient Hawaiians were thought to have taken between Hawaii and Tahiti.

  “This was back in the late seventies, apparently it got a lot of press at the time. The trip was almost three thousand miles. Eddie volunteered to be one of the crew members.” Rick shrugged. “One of the hulls sprung a leak, the canoe capsized. Eddie had taken his ten-foot gun with him—” Rick stopped, smiled. “That’s a surfboard. Anyway, he started paddling toward Lanai to get help. That’s the last time anyone saw him. Ironically, the rest of the crew was rescued.”

  “Oh, my God, that’s so sad.”

  “Yep. People here took it really hard. I know a couple of veteran surfers who used to lifeguard with him. They swear he was every bit as awesome as the stories say, a great role model to the kids at the time.”

  “Kind of like you.”

  He snorted, regarded her as if she’d been smoking something funny. “Not even close.”

  She slipped an arm through his. “How many kids do you have working at your shop?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a dozen. Why?”

  She smiled. “How many do you actually need?”

  He lifted a brow. “Keep it up and I’ll do things to you that’ll make you turn three shades of purple.”

  “Promises, promises.” She let out a yelp when he stuck his hand up her shirt. “Stop it.” Laughing, fighting his plundering hand, she glanced around. “Go ahead, try and distract me, but I know things. Like how you always buy bread for Aunty Leialoha to feed the birds and pretend Jimmy is the one who saved her the stale loaves.”

  “Oh, what a horrible secret you know about me.” He unclasped her bra.

  “Hey.” She grabbed his wrist, and smugly added, “Auntie Leialoha knows, too. She’s the one who told me.”

  Frowning, Rick stopped his roving hand. “No way.”

  “Sorry, busted. You’re one of the good guys and everyone knows it.” She grinned when he rolled his eyes. “You’re going to be a good father.”

  Everything inside of her froze. Appalled at what she’d said, she had to concentrate on the simple act of closing her mouth. But it was an innocent remark, she told herself as she watched his jaw tighten. “Obviously I don’t know if you’re even planning on having kids…I was only making an observation….” she said, her voice trailing off.

  Why one earth hadn’t she left it alone? Did he think she was fishing? Should she assure him that she wasn’t looking to extend their relationship beyond the next two days? It would all be over soon. The sex. The intimacy. The teasing and laughter. Waking up next to him.

  The truth hurt. Really hurt. Far more than she would’ve dreamed possible two weeks ago when she’d been sitting at her desk in windy Chicago wondering if she’d see him again. And then there was that short conversation with Wally at the shop. She had to admit that since then she’d been thinking more about the possibility of a future with Rick.

  “I’ll probably have kids,” he said quietly, staring out at the waves. “Some day.”

  She didn’t respond. Only stared at him. She figured she’d done enough damage, though he didn’t sound put off. But it would be so typical of him to say something—anything—strictly to put her at ease.

  She cleared her throat. “Me, too, I guess. I haven’t given it much thought yet.”

  He did her the favor of keeping his gaze straight ahead, though she thought she saw the corner of his mouth hitch up a bit. After a stretch of silence, he said, “If I had a daughter, I’d be strict.”

  Lindsey stared at him then. “What?”

  He gave her a fleeting smile. “I would. Not crazy strict, but I’d set firm boundaries.”

  “Wait, what about if you had a son?”

  “I’d be…” He chuckled. “Probably not so strict.”

  “Wow. I didn’t think you’d be sexist.”

  “Hey.” Rick snorted. “That’s crap.”

  “You don’t see raising a daughter differently than a son as a double standard?”

  “Okay, maybe. But your parents were strict with you, and look how well you turned out.”

  Lindsey gaped at him. “There’s strict, and then there’s puritanical. It’s not easy to develop a healthy attitude toward sex with overzealously protective parents.”

  “I see your point, but it’s not gender-related.”

  “Why are we having this stupid discussion about kids, anyway?” she muttered irritably, then immediately felt badly. Though he was responsible for her being tired and grouchy. She hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since she arrived.

  “Tell you what,” he said, turning the key in the ignition. “Let’s go home and work on that healthy attitude.”

  IT WAS GOING TO BE a bitch after she left tomorrow. Rick walked out of the master bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, and just stared at her. Naked under the sheets that stopped at her hips, she was lying on her stomach, her face turned away, partially covered by her long blond hair.

  God, he wanted to kiss her awake, but that would be cruel. She’d had too little sleep and would have to face a long plane ride tomorrow. The thought of her leaving hit him hard. The house was going to seem empty as hell, and way too quiet. He smiled wondering if Lindsey knew how noisy she was in the kitchen. She loved all the modern appliances and was terrific at whipping up a meal out of nothing, but she sure liked to bang those pots around.

  Damn, he had to convince her to stay a few more days. Totally selfish of him but too bad. She had the rest of her life to be with her friends and work on the new business. Why was it wrong to want to keep her here a while longer? Maybe she could even stay long enough to fly back with him when he went home to Michigan in two weeks.

  His mother had a birthday bash planned for him, which he hated, especially since he was closing out a decade in his life, but he’d promised to show up. Lindsey could go with him, meet the folks, then fly on to New York. He’d pay for her to change her ticket again, although he didn’t look forward to a rematch over that issue.

  She’d been stubborn about paying her own way. He respected and admired her stance, but he had a hell of a lot more disposable income than she had. A few hundred bucks here and there…no sweat for him. But of course she didn’t know that, and truthfully, it wouldn’t matter to her because she valued her independence.


  He still had so many things to tell her. And he would because he trusted her. Trusted that she wouldn’t judge him for not conforming to a preplanned life that guaranteed a paycheck every other week. She’d never once pressured him about his future, or about why he wasn’t using his engineering degree.

  She’d understand that he needed to think and live outside the box if he wanted to be the one who designed the next generation surfboard. He was almost there….

  Uh, he’d told Wally that a year ago.

  “I thought I heard the shower,” she said, pushing back her hair and smiling sleepily at him. “What time is it?”

  “Too early to get up.”

  Lindsey grinned, and started to roll over. He stopped her, sat at the edge of the bed and kissed the curve of her ass right above the sheet. He followed the length of her spine, pressing small kisses up her back, smiling when he saw goose bumps.

  She sighed. “I can’t believe I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “Don’t go.” He felt her tense. “Stay longer.”

  She hesitated. “I can’t. You know I want to, but it wouldn’t be fair to Mia and Shelby.”

  “Have you talked to them lately? They might be busy doing their own thing.”

  “Not likely. We have a plan. We have a target date to have Anything Goes up and running.” She moved away and sat up, her back against the padded headboard, the sheet pulled up to cover her breasts. “We all have a lot riding on this venture.”

  “I understand. I’m just saying…a few days or a week might not matter. Inventory could have gotten held up, any number of problems could delay the opening. What would it harm to call Mia and Shelby and see what’s up?”

  Lindsey sighed, a soft patronizing smile lifting her lips, as if he couldn’t possibly understand. “I wish I could stay. I really do.”

  “Got it.” Annoyed, he tightened the towel around his waist before he stood. She looked like a damn mother patiently explaining to her child that they couldn’t stay at the zoo all day because Mommy had to work.