Chapter 25

 

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With the hum of the usual bar activity around me, I take a long, thoughtful look at the surfing competition on the TV as I stick a brightly colored paper umbrella in the drink I’m making.

In the entire time I’ve lived on the Big Island, I haven’t felt the pull of mainland news once. I haven’t been curious about the headlines that seem so far removed from life here.

Until lately.

After CNN released those latest photos three days ago, I discovered I would earn a sharp rebuke anytime I flipped the channel to the news even for a moment here at the Dancing Coconut.

Yet I’d done it anyway, both yesterday and the day before… and been rewarded with two headlines worthy of a colossal fist pump.

#1: Senator Petronel resigned.

#2: Two more of his former nannies stepped forward with stories similar to Annie’s, both much more accessible on the mainland.

So, while I’d worried that Annie might have been pulled into an endless string of interviews with the press, her life quickly returned to a calm reminiscent of this laid-back island she temporarily calls “home.”

Today, as I look at the TV, I’m glad for the sight of the surfers on it. I’ve had my fill of mainland news. Enough to last me a decade.

With two margaritas in my grasp, I walk to the other side of the bar to deliver drinks to a family at a nearby table. Their two kids—not much older than Stella by my estimation—are a little too young to be sidling up to the bar anytime soon.

The couple clinks their margaritas together immediately with the words, “Happy anniversary.”

My ears perk up and I reach for one of Annie’s fliers in my back pocket.

“It’s your anniversary?” I ask them.

“Tomorrow, actually,” the wife tells me. “But we’ve been celebrating since we stepped off the plane yesterday.”

“Good plan.” I grin. “Well, if you want a little time away from the kiddos, check this out.” I hand them Annie’s flier—a new design that has her website on there now that we’ve published it.

Their eyes brighten with hope at the sight of it—as though I’ve just handed them the key to romance. Because maybe I have.

Annie and her friend are going to make a fortune at this.

When I leave for the night, Annie awaits me, sitting on my lanai with her usual cup of coffee, looking out to the darkness. I’m not even going to admit how much I like the sight of her there, waiting for me. It goes against everything I’ve believed in since I had lieutenant’s bars on my uniform.

And yet, I can’t seem to help it.

Before I join her on the lanai, I peer into Stella’s room. She has one arm wrapped around her unicorn and the humpback I bought her the other day has fallen to the floor. Silently, I pick it up and set it down on the other side of her, knowing she’ll reach for it in her sleep. The backs of my fingers touch her forehead lightly as though I need some kind of reassurance that she’s okay because my corner of the world is dependent on it.

“Did Stella get to bed all right?” I ask Annie when I step outside, even though I know the answer.

“Sure did. She met a girl at the pool today and they wore each other out playing Marco Polo.”

I slide my hand along her shoulder as I take a seat at her side. “My brothers are still out?”

Her expression is peaceful, a reflection of the calm seas only feet away from us. “Dodger’s still at the clinic and Fen called to say he’s out with some tourist he met at work today. He’s not expecting to be home tonight.”

“Ah. The flavor of the week,” I say.

“More like, the flavor of the day with him,” she corrects.

“You’ve caught on.” Unable to resist her, I lean in to taste her. Her lips hint of flavored coffee creamer. I hate the stuff, but have always kept it on hand in case I awakened with a woman in my bed and she needed a caffeine boost before I sent her on her way.

Funny. This one I never want to see leave.

She giggles at my statement. “You made it pretty clear that commitment is a four-letter word in this bachelor pad paradise you guys have here.”

My mouth opens, ready to argue that point. But I stop myself. She’s smiling as she says it; she understands about us—about me—and I tell myself that’s a good thing. Even though I feel like an imposter hearing her say it.

Because I don’t feel like I’m the same guy who joked that we should install a revolving door for all the women my brothers and I brought home.

In fact, right now, that joke sounds pretty fucking lame.

“Any more excitement?” I ask her instead.

“No new revelations today,” she breathes out with a sigh tacked on at the end. “I haven’t turned on the news, though. But Sam said she’d call me if anything new hit the headlines.”

“Good to have a friend on the mainland looking out for you.”

“My mom called again, too. Told me she’d love it if I came out for next Thanksgiving or maybe for Christmas. Said I’m the talk of the town for a completely different reason now.” She spares me a quick smile before looking back at the Pacific. “You were right, you know. About my parents. I really do think they were just trying to protect me when they didn’t invite me out there. I don’t know why I didn’t believe that before. I think I’d fallen into a rut of thinking that the whole world was against me.”

She leans over, snuggling her head onto my shoulder.

I picture her headed back to the mainland for the holiday, and feel the strange desire to make the trip with her if Stella’s back with her grandma by then. I’d be curious to meet the people who shaped her life. Stopping short of suggesting the idea to her, I remind myself that meeting a girl’s family is treading dangerously close to “relationship” territory.

I pull her even more tightly to my side—because close never seems close enough with her— breathing in her scent that has become like an addiction to me.

“I—uh—also got a call from that school I’d applied to before. You know, the private one in D.C.,” she tells me.

A shot of something akin to panic spikes up my spine. “Really?”

“Yeah. They saw the news.” She shrugs. “I guess there’s no not seeing it out there in D.C., according to Sam. They were very apologetic that they’d turned me down for the job a couple months ago.”

“That was nice of them,” I offer cautiously, even though I’m reminded of something my mother once told me when I was little about fair weather friends.

 “Yeah,” she continues. “They told me they hoped I understood how much they value the privacy of their students and really were concerned about hiring me when the headlines were… different.”

 “Nice of them to say that now,” I can’t resist interjecting.

“I guess. They seemed sincere, though. They offered me a job. It’s not the one I originally applied for. That’s already been taken. But one of their teachers is pregnant and wants to take a few years off work. So I wouldn’t have to start until the beginning of the next school year.”

Fuck. I feel like someone just tossed a bucket of cold water on me, the way my skin prickles right now. “So, that’s good news, I guess,” I say, because I’m really not sure what else to say.

When I’m met with silence, I ease back a few inches from her to take in her expression. “Well, is it?” I ask cautiously.

Her lips press together for a moment. “The money’s great for a teacher’s assistant. Better than I expected and I’d definitely be able to start up on my master’s.” She pauses. “And Stella will probably be back on the mainland by then.”

“What about your business with Kaila?” I ask as something fierce claws at my gut. I can’t put a name to it. Desperation, maybe, because when the question slips from me, I know I’m looking for any reason to keep her here.

Any reason but me.

“I talked to her about it after Stella went to bed. She thinks I should go for it. We’ll still have plenty of time to get the business started up, and then when I leave, she’s pretty confident she can continue it on her own.” She takes my hand. “It seems that gorgeous website you built for us gave us both a confidence boost.”

There’s this sliver of me that wants to remind her that I made the website for her because I want her to succeed here.

Because I want her to stay here.

Because even though I don’t do commitment, I’d be open to a series of back-to-back flings with her that might last a good, long time.

Yet that’s probably not what any woman wants to hear.

Raising her hand to my lips, I press a kiss to her palm. “Well, at least you’re not leaving right away. We’ll have some fun together before then, give you something to remember back home.”

She looks at me quizzically. “So you think I should take it?”

No.

“You always said it’s your dream job,” I tell her instead, remembering what she’d told me that day on the beach—that day when we’d both seemed content to have a fling.

Back then, I’d cared about her.

I had grown to care a lot more.

And now? Well, shit. It doesn’t matter what I feel because she’s going anyway. There’s a tightness in my throat I don’t enjoy. I swallow hard, forcing the feeling downward. Yet it bubbles up again.

“Hey—how about we take Stella to Kealakekua Bay for a little snorkeling tomorrow?” I need to change the subject like I need my next breath. If I don’t, I might beg her to stay.

Her lips press together for a moment. “I can’t. Kaila and I got our first booking.”

“Really?”

“It just came in about a half-hour ago. A couple at an AirBNB wants to celebrate their anniversary without their kids. They’ve asked for the full treatment. Lei-making, plastic ukes, even a hula lesson.”

I remember the couple from the Dancing Coconut. I got her that job, dammit. And now, selfishly, I’m regretting it. Because now, every minute I get with her seems a little more precious as the clock ticks away on her time here.

“That’s great.” I tell her. Or maybe I’m telling myself. “Okay. Another time.”

I pay her then, because that’s what I do. She tells me she doesn’t want to be paid for watching Stella anymore, now that she has other babysitting jobs on the horizon. But I give her the money anyway because it might actually last longer than a relationship with me will.

Not that I have any say in that matter, apparently.

This is what I wanted, I remind myself as I kiss her at the door, taking in her breath as I do and feeling as though it fills my sorry excuse for a soul.

My hands caress her sides. I just want to hold her close, let the warmth of her seep into me and somehow erase this reminder that relationships are fleeting things.

After I watch her walk to her car, I soothe myself by peering into Stella’s room again. It calms me somehow, reminds me of the important things.

Stella’s safe.

Stella’s healthy.

The irony of life almost makes me smile. Almost.

Here I am, a single guy who never wanted to settle down. And now I’m standing here watching a little girl sleep like an angel, telling myself that if she’s okay, then I don’t have a damn reason to complain.

“Hey.” Fen’s voice is low as he walks in behind me just a few minutes later. I glance his way and see him carefully set down his keys to not disturb Stella.

I only nod a greeting as I watch him head straight to the refrigerator for a beer. He takes it in his hand, glances at the surfer on the label either to confirm that he’s drinking a local beer or maybe just to remind himself that he’s really living in paradise, and then pops the cap with a bottle opener.

“She asleep?” he whispers as he sidles up next to me.

I give a single nod, then shut Stella’s door, careful to not let the doorknob click. “Surprised to see you home. Annie said you were out with some tourist.”

“Yeah. She was pretty hot.” He stretches out on the sectional. “But she suspected something when I told her I couldn’t bring her back to my place. I explained about Stella, but I think she figured I was hiding a wife or something.”

I give my head a somber shake. “Gotta hate those women who have principles.” My tone is thick with sarcasm.

A smile slides up his face. “Yeah, really. Speaking of, how’s Annie? Anything new?”

 “Not really.” I pause, grabbing his half-full beer that he’s set on the coffee table and stealing a swig. “Annie got a job offer back in D.C.,” I eventually add.

He swings his legs down to the floor. “Aw, man. She’s not going anywhere before Stella leaves, right? Stella would be so sad.”

“I doubt it. They don’t need her till the new school year starts.”

He gives an abrupt nod in relief. “Good. Well, then, good for her.”

“You think?”

“Of course,” he answers as he turns on the TV and quickly drops the volume down to a barely perceptible level. He grimaces a moment when he sees we left it on a news network and then quickly turns it to an MMA fight he DVRed earlier. Then his hand stills in the air with the remote as he glances my way.

“Oh. Wait.” He eyes me. “Do you need comforting or something? ’Cause I don’t know how to do that.”

I recoil slightly. “Of course not.”

He gives a nod and his eyes return to the TV. Then, his gaze tracks back to me, making me feel uneasy.

“’Cause you look like you might need a hug.” Then he snorts unabashedly.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I am. I really am.” His face is nearly red from holding back laughter. “So you’re going to just let her go?”

“What am I supposed to do? Tie her up and keep her here?”

“No. Well, unless she’s into that sort of thing. But you’re not that lucky of a guy, are you?” He swallows a cackle as he finishes his beer. “I just mean, tell her you love her and want her to stay.”

“I love her?”

 His eyes roll. “Don’t go trying to tell me you don’t. Hell, I’m practically in love with her and so is Dodger. I mean, what the hell does she put in our laundry to make it smell so good, right?”

I frown. “Okay, so maybe I do love her. But I’m not cut out for commitment. I’ve tried that before and it doesn’t sit right with me.”

 “Wait a minute. You mean that time you were engaged?”

“Yeah. What else would I mean?”

“Oh, hell.” He waves a hand through the air. “Don’t try to tell me your issue with commitment has anything to do with that.”

My arms fold across my chest defensively. “So what’s my issue, then?”

“You’re mad because the Rangers dumped you.”

I scoff. “What?”

“Come on. You loved being a Ranger. You were damn good at it, too. Purple Heart. Bronze Star for valor. You committed everything to them. You nearly gave your life for it. Then they go and tell you you’re not good enough for them anymore.”

“They had to. They were right.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” He sits up again. “You made a commitment. The biggest commitment you could. Your life. Your honor. Your everything. And they took you—used you—and tossed you away when you weren’t perfect enough for them anymore. Hell, even I’m pissed off at them for that.”

I can feel the creases deepen on my brow. “I knew the risks going in. And I could have stayed in the Army.”

“Sure. But you can’t tell me that didn’t sting.”

My chin tucks in toward my chest. I think about Dana, that doe-eyed girl I once thought I loved. Looking back, I wonder if it was even the real deal or not.

But then I think about the Rangers. They were my brothers, a bond just as strong as the one I share with Fen and Dodger.

I’d hoped to command the Regiment one day. That was my goal. And when I’d been injured, I’d stepped aside without hesitation because that was best for the team. After my recovery at Walter Reed, I’d packed my things and watched someone new slide into my role, reminding me how easily I could be replaced.

Could Fen, with his comically teenage mentality, actually be right?

“Look, if you aren’t ready to admit that you’re ape-shit crazy for Annie, that’s fine. But don’t pretend you’re doing it because some insignificant girl dumped you years ago. Makes you look like a wuss, man. Seriously.” He swings his legs around and stretches out on the leather again.

I stare at the side of his head for a moment as he watches the fights. “Okay,” I concede. “So, maybe that is it. Then what’s the story with you?”

“Hmm?” he asks still staring at the TV as if he’s forgotten the entirety of our previous conversation.

“You’ve figured out why I don’t like commitment. But you—what’s the deal with you? Worried someone will dump you? Cheat on you? What?” I ask.

“I’m not worried about any of that.”

“Then what is it?”

His gaze turns stormy. “I don’t want to cheat on anyone. I don’t want to disappoint anyone like that. Cheaters suck and I don’t want to be one of them.”

“So… don’t.” I dare to state the obvious.

“Right. I won’t. If I don’t commit to someone, then I can’t cheat,” he points out.

“Brilliant plan.”

“No worse than yours,” he grumbles. “Now will you leave me to the fights here? You don’t like me watching them when Stella’s awake. So I have to take advantage.”

I stand, my eyes moving from my brother to the photo on the wall of the three of us in our uniforms. Then I look at Stella’s closed door.

I hate that Fen’s right.

I say that I don’t do commitment.

I say that it doesn’t suit me.

Yet I commit to my brothers. To my country. To the little girl in the other room.

And whether or not I’m ready to admit it, I’m committed to Annie.

And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her leave Hawaii—tomorrow or next month or next year—without her knowing it.