Chapter 9

 

- CAMDEN -

 

 

I’m not that kind of guy.

You know… there’s that kind of guy who looks at a woman who’s patiently bouncing a kid on her knee and he finds it attractive. Not just in a cute way, but in that kind of way that makes him want to wipe out all the numbers in his iPhone, settle down, and just breed.

That kind of guy whose heart pinches when a woman knows just what to do for a crying child.

That guy who stops ordering the latest MMA fights on cable for a hundred bucks a pop, and instead sinks that money into a college fund for his future kids.

That’s not me.

I don’t do commitment.

I remind myself this a few times while I drive on Saddle Road, the lengthy, winding trek up and over the mountain to the lush, tropical side of the Big Island. Annie is at my side, her body twisted so that she can perform a makeshift puppet show to entertain Stella in the back seat. Annie looks different to me somehow, sitting next to me on this drive with a kid in the back seat as though we are some kind of honest-to-God family.

I used to be that kind of guy. I’ve fallen in love twice in my life. The first time it was mere puppy love, back when I was a cadet at West Point. Some girl heard my last name was Sheridan and immediately thought I was from the billionaire branch of the family. When she came to my home for Christmas and saw our average colonial-style house, that relationship hit a brick wall.

The second time, I was a first lieutenant who fell hard for some girl who actually accepted an engagement ring from me before I left for a deployment. The jury is out on just how long that ring stayed on her finger, because she found someone else while I was gone.

That was the one that hurt the most. Dana. Or Damn Dana, as my brothers coined her after she dumped me. I can still remember the curves of her face when she smiled, the trill of her laughter at a really good joke, the way the sunlight glinted in her mahogany eyes.

Dana. Her every imperfection seemed like perfection to me. God, I had it bad for her.

Looking back, I don’t blame her for breaking it off. I probably didn’t quite prepare her for the reality of what it’s like being a part of Army life.

I had just wished she’d dumped me while I’d been away rather than letting me live that year in the Middle East thinking my life would begin with her when I returned. For 365 days, I was stupidly naming our future kids in my head and comparing minivans in Consumer Reports from my bunk in the middle of the BFN, Butt Fuck Nowhere.

I think back to just a week or so ago, to that statuesque redhead named Allana—no—Helena, that was it—and how she bolted the moment she heard the word “baby.”

That’s the type of woman a guy like me goes for now. She’ll never disappoint. She lays out what she wants just the same as I do… sex with no strings attached.

Where’s a Helena when I need one?

“You’re going to get carsick if you keep turned around like that,” I tell Annie. Nothing worse than facing backwards in a car, except maybe flying in the back of a C-130 on a hundred degree day, which Annie’s not likely to experience anytime soon.

“I never get carsick,” she replies with a quick flash of a smile before resuming her puppet show.

“Never?”

“No. When I was a nanny here, the Shimozatos had one of those big four-wheel-drives with a third row of seats. The kids would crowd into it with a couple of their friends and I spent a full two years of my life doing puppet shows facing backwards, bouncing all the way since the best beaches on the island are the ones you can’t get to by road.”

“When were you here?” I ask, forgetting until now that she’d ever been on this island before. I can’t help remembering the brief time I was training here and wondering if I ran into her back then. That might explain why she looks so damn familiar to me.

“About four years ago.”

“Our time might have overlapped then. Maybe I ran into you back then.” With a wide stretch of empty road in front of me, I spare her a glance, trying to look beyond the glasses and recall where I might have seen her face before. Or whether this familiarity I feel with her is just from the fact that she’s just that easy to be around.

“Maybe,” she says. “We were out a lot sightseeing. They knew they’d only be living here for two years so they really wanted to experience it all. Why were you here?”

“I had training at Pohakuloa. It’s a military training area here on the Big Island. We passed it on the road.”

“We did?” She looks quizzically at me. “When?”

I chuckle. “About ten minutes ago. The place is pretty easy to miss.”

“Is that why you came back here to live?”

“Yeah. Loved the beaches and lava.” I pause, remembering. “And the stars. I’ve seen pretty amazing stars—in the Middle East, and once when I was at Yakima Training Center in Washington during my time in the Rangers. But here, it’s different.” I could go on, but I don’t, almost embarrassed about how stirring it was for me to see them that one night when a meteor shower streaked through the sky with the Milky Way as its backdrop.

I’m not a particularly religious kind of guy, but when I looked up at those stars that night, I felt something inside of me pretty close to a soul.

Fortunately, Stella changes the topic with a squeal when she sees a Nene crossing sign— which leads to a lengthy conversation about Hawai‘i’s state bird and that, no, Stella, you can’t have one as a pet.

After we grab a quick lunch in downtown Hilo, the zoo is a hit with Stella, even though I’m a bit averse to seeing any animal in a cage unless it’s rabid. They always make me feel like I’m a hypocrite staring at them, when I don’t do too well being trapped myself.

I’m happier afterward when we take a little detour to Akaka Falls, where Stella’s eyes grow wide with delight.

“Can we swim in there?” the little girl asks me. At this point, I’m not even surprised by her question. She’s got an affinity for anything in the water, and if her dad’s not careful, I could see her going into the Navy. Now, wouldn’t that be hell every December during the Army-Navy game?

“Not in that one. But I know a couple waterfalls where we can swim. I’ll take you sometime.”

I snap a couple photos of Stella standing next to the falls, the usual smile-filled poses to send to her dad. I have her tilt her head backwards and open her mouth wide so that from the camera’s point-of-view it looks like the waterfall is pouring right into her mouth. Stella laughs uproariously when she sees it, slightly bewildered, as if she can’t quite grasp the concept of perspective as I explain it to her. Annie does a better job of it, seeming to speak fluent four-year-old on top of Japanese, apparently.

I snap a candid shot of the two of them. They don’t see me take it, and that’s what makes it special. Their smiles are genuine, and it captures Stella’s worshipful gaze at Annie. I imagine it might be nice for the little girl to actually have a woman around, rather than just the influence of a guy.

From the way she’s turning out, I’m sure Lancaster’s doing a kick ass job at the single dad thing. But I can see there’s a void just from the way Stella looks at Annie as if she’s Mary-Freakin’-Poppins.

As I text the image to Lancaster on the other side of the planet, I tell myself that it’s for his benefit, not mine. He’ll like to see Stella with the woman who seems to always draw a smile out of his daughter.

The truth is, though, I want the picture for myself. I wasn’t kidding the other night. Being fluent in Japanese, Annie really will be picked up by some resort soon enough. And a photo will be all I have to remember her by.

And am I really getting this sentimental over a girl I just met last week?

Stella’s out like a light the moment she’s snapped into her car seat.

“This was a good idea for her, Cam,” Annie says as her gaze flits from the kid slumbering in the back seat to me.

My eyes are affixed to the fog-covered road. “Her idea. I can’t take any credit.”

“Yeah, but you followed through on it. It’s good she gets out and sees the island. She’ll remember this, you know.”

“You think? I don’t remember much from when I was four.”

“Well, that’s probably because you didn’t have to spend a year away from your dad on an island. It’s a scary thing that will stick with her. But you’re turning it into a good experience for her rather than a bad one.”

“Thanks to you.”

My SUV drives through the low clouds shrouding Mauna Kea, as I attempt to mine more nuggets of information about her. I can tell she values her privacy, and I should respect that. But it’s a long drive and talking about the weather gets tiresome.

“So, are you here permanently?” I ask.

Her eyes widen. “What—you mean on the island?”

“No, Annie. I meant the planet,” I joke. “Yes. On the island.”

She offers me a slight smile. “Yes. Maybe. Well, no. Not really.”

“You covered a lot of ground in that answer.”

She gives a half-shrug. “Well, it’s hard not to want to stay here, once you arrive, right? But the truth is, I want to get my master’s in education.”

I nod, seeing where this is headed. There are limited options for colleges out here in the middle of the ocean, unless a person wants to attend school online.

“My best friend lives out East,” she continues. “She’s getting her master’s now, actually. We were going to get a place together. Plenty of schools to choose from on the East Coast, especially in D.C. So I’d like to get back there soon.”

Admittedly, I’m a player when it comes to women. I wear that like a badge. And as a player, this new bit of information sets off a ping on my radar screen.

She’s not looking to stick around.

I can’t help liking the hell out of that.

I spare Annie a quick glance as the car breaks through the clouds. With the bright sun suddenly beaming through the windshield, I notice blonde roots at the top of her head, like tiny flecks of gold.

“I’d like to apply to Georgetown or American Universi—what?” She cuts herself off when she sees me looking at her curiously. Her eyes widen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I pull my eyes away from the roots of her hair and back on the road where they should be. I’ve never heard of a blonde woman darkening her hair. It’s usually the other way around. It piques my curiosity. I’m almost tempted to ask her about it, but the last time I asked a woman if she dyed her hair, it was my tenth grade English teacher and she hadn’t taken it as the simple question that it was. I found myself in detention hall that Saturday, and learned the lesson that women don’t like to be questioned about their hair color, even if you’re not doing it as a smart-ass.

“Nothing. Just listening,” I say, then prodding her to continue. “So you—uh—aren’t staying on the island long then?” I feel the need to confirm this.

“Just long enough to save some money so I can start school up again,” she stammers, sounding like she’s totally winging this.

I keep my lips pressed shut. It’s a pretty lousy plan she’s got. There’s no saving money on an island where jobs are scarce and a trip to stock up on groceries can land a person in credit card debt.

But I’m loving the idea that she’s not looking for something permanent—from me or this island. I can’t resist a woman who’s already got an exit strategy in place.

And when I see the way her eyes nervously skitter over my body like she’s fighting attraction and is in a losing battle, I’m not sure I will resist.

When we arrive home, the warm breeze brushes over me as I open her door and she rises up to stand next to me.

I’m too close to her now. I should take a step backward, but instead, I find myself glancing through the back window of the car and noticing that Stella is still sound asleep in her car seat.

My eyes dart back to Annie, tracing over her features, memorizing them.

I barely know her. Yet I can’t shake this damn feeling like I’ve found something here. Like when I couldn’t find the remote to my TV for two weeks, but then suddenly found it under the sofa, even though I’d already looked there three times.

And now that I know she’s not looking for forever from me… well, hell, that’s just icing on the cake.

“Don’t you want to go in?” she asks.

I smile awkwardly and glance through the window again at Stella, looking for my excuse. “Yeah. I just hate waking her. She looks so peaceful when she’s sleeping.”

“Now you sound like most parents.”

I step backward, allowing her to pass, but then do the wrong thing. The completely wrong thing that I can’t help myself from doing. I clasp my hand over hers.

I can hear my brothers’ voices in my head. If I go down this road and it ends the way it usually does, I won’t have Annie at the end of it and neither will Stella.

But still, I’m a guy. And even though my prospects for getting laid have been sorely reduced since Stella’s arrival, I still have condoms on auto-ship from Amazon.

“Annie, thanks for coming today.” I give her palm a slight squeeze, as I look into her eyes.

A blush touches her cheeks and her chest rises as she takes in a breath just enough for me to notice the way her nipples are teasing me through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Shit. Why did I have to notice that?

Annie’s eyes are locked on mine, her gaze hinting of expectation… of desire… and of the same question that’s lurking in my mind right now:

Do I really do this with a kid asleep in the back seat?

I almost resist, until I remember that I’ll pretty much have a kid in my backseat for the next month or so at least. This is my new normal. So why not embrace it?

“My pleasure,” she breathes out, her voice a soft, unassuming purr that sends my hormones into overdrive.

Yep, this is going to happen.

A thick lock of her hair falls out of her ponytail and brushes against her cheek. It’s all the excuse I need to take the tip of my finger and stroke her just there at that delicate point where the tendril is caressing her. I feel her ease closer to me as I tuck the errant lock back behind her ear.

I lean in barely more than an inch and feel her mirror the action toward me. My hand, still alongside her face, briefly touches her chin as though to pull her closer.

And I hear a shout behind us.

“Hey, guys!”

Son of a bitch.

Whipping my head around, I jerk my hand away from her as I see Dodger striding toward us through the parking lot, wearing his fucking white coat as though it’s a superhero cape.

A flush creeping up her neck, Annie’s eyes are wide as she shrinks away from me and reaches for the back door to retrieve a still-slumbering Stella.

Fucking son of a bitch.

“Didn’t know you’d be home by now. Thought maybe you’d stay out for dinner.” His voice is overly cheery, unlike his normal tone. I have no doubt he knows exactly what was about to happen fifteen seconds ago.

“No.” The word, whether I intend it or not, comes out as a growl. “Stella fell asleep. Thought I should get her home.”

“Hi, Annie.” My brother’s eyes meet hers and I swear there’s some measure of flirtation in them. Of course there is. We’re Sheridan brothers. That’s what we do.

I can’t help looking at Annie to see if she’s attracted to that doctor aura he gives off in the white coat. She barely makes eye contact with him, though, still seeming somewhat mortified as she bends to lift Stella.

“Hi, Dodger. Wake up, Stella,” she adds in a whisper as the little girl’s eyes open to mere slits and she lets out a yawn.

“I’ll take her,” he says, opening his arms.

“No. Looks like you’re headed to work,” I grumble.

“I can always spare a few minutes for our princess,” he says as Stella melds into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around him.

“We went to the zoo, Uncle Dodger,” she tells him amid a second yawn.

I hate the way she calls him Uncle. I know it’s stupid, but I’m the one doing the heavy lifting with Stella. Still, I put up with it because it’s good that she feels comfortable around my brothers.

“Want me to put you down for a nap?” Dodger asks.

“Read to me first,” she commands.

“Of course,” Dodger answers for Annie’s benefit, I’m guessing. I want to punch him.

“I’ll read to her. Don’t you have patients?” I glare at him, thinking how little patience I have right now.

“I’m running early. It’s no trouble. What do you want me to read?” Dodger turns his attention back to Stella.

“A is for Aircraft,” she quotes the first line in a book Fen bought for her. It seems to be the house favorite this week.

No, Stella. A is for Asshole, I want to say. But that’s one thing about having a four-year-old around. It’s like living with a censorship committee in your home.

I suppress a sneer as I pull out my wallet.

“Cam, I told you, you really don’t need to pay me,” Annie resists. “I had a great time.”

“I insist.” I press a stack of bills in her hand. “Come on. Dodger’s got Stella. I’ll walk you to your car. Thanks again for today,” I add.

She laughs, waving to Stella as Dodger carries her inside. “I don’t know why you keep thanking me when you’re paying me.”

“Because I picture my life without you, and it’s not pretty.” Shit. That didn’t sound quite right. She gazes at me curiously. “I mean, I’m kind of useless around Stella.”

“You keep saying that and you might start believing it. So stop. You’re really good with her. You’re good for her.”

“Probably not as good as her dad, though.”

“No one is as important as that.”

After she climbs into her car, I tap its roof. I’m not sure why; perhaps I’m willing the damn thing to not break down on her on the road home. The state of her car is not unusual on the island—a Hawai‘i cruiser, locals would call it. People drive their cars into the ground just because it’s a lot more difficult to replace them when you’re in the middle of the ocean.

I stand like a fool in the parking lot, watching her drive away, until I turn on my heel to head inside.

“Don’t do it, Cam.” Arms crossed in front of his chest, Dodger greets me at the door with a threatening tone.

My eyes search for Stella and I figure she’s already in bed for her nap. Too bad. Because I’d rather talk to her than to Dodger right now. “Don’t do what?”

“Date her.”

“Are we really going to have this conversation again?”

“Look, if you need some action, go find a tourist at a bar like you usually do. Someone who’s flying out at the end of the week.”

I glare at him. “For your information, asshole, Annie’s not looking for forever. She’s planning on getting off this rock and going back for her master’s back on the East Coast. She’s not looking to settle down any more than I am.”

“She’s still the only babysitter you’ve got on speed dial right now. I’m telling you, if you screw this up, Fen and I aren’t covering for you with Stella while you play bartender.”

“I won’t ask you to. Besides, I won’t rush things with Annie. I’ll take it slow.” It’s not even his business; but I’m not saying it to him. I’m saying it to myself. “And why do both my brothers have such little confidence in my ability to have a relationship that lasts more than a week?”

He glances in the direction of Stella’s room as though to confirm she’s out of earshot. “Because we know you.”

He’s only stating a fact, so it shouldn’t bother me.

So why does it?