Chapter One

Eight Months Later

 

The lights of the daycare building were off as I approached from the basement entrance. Usually, by now, the lights are on, the coffee has been made, and the toys spread out for the kids to strew around. I sighed and shifted the clean laundry to my other arm and dug out my keys. Winifred must have been too busy with Katie-Bug this morning to get down here early.

I unlocked the door, trying to get my foot in without upsetting the towels and bibs. I failed and they fell to the ground, with me following them.

“Oomph,” I said as I sat down onto the soft towels to break my fall. I sat for a moment stunned and then shook my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Monday,” I sighed, pushing myself up off the ground.

“Need a hand?” a voice asked, and I stared up into the face of the executive chef of Kupid’s Table.

I dumped my head into my hand. “Hi, Chef Sawyer. I’m good, just thought I would take a rest before I went in,” I explained, rather lamely.

He laughed and knelt in front of me. I noticed for the first time he wasn’t wearing his usual white chef’s coat. “I was coming out of the gym and saw you tip over, but nice try.”

He stood up again and held out his hand for me to take. I eyed it and then shook my head. “Thanks, but I can’t get up that way.”

He frowned. “How do you get up off the floor in the daycare?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

I shrugged. “I can’t sit on the floor. I always sit on a chair. This is awkward.”

He chuckled and went around behind me. “Nothing awkward about it, love. I’ll lift you from under your arms. Ready?” he asked and I nodded. I wasn’t expecting his strong arms to lift me so easily, but I was standing in under a second. He kept one hand under my arm and bent to pick up my forearm crutch. He handed it to me, “See, no problem.”

I offered him a warm smile as I stuck my hand through the crutch to grasp the handle. “Thanks. I should have put the towels in a bag, but I thought Winnie would be here by now.”

He pushed the door open and used the toe of his leather Nike to push the doorstopper down. He knelt again, and picked up the towels while I picked up the bibs. “I saw Flynn earlier and he said Winifred has been at the hospital all night. Apparently Flynn Jr. has a cold and last night he started having breathing problems. You may not see her for a few days.

I frowned. “Poor baby. I’ll keep Katie-Bug today, so Flynn can concentrate on helping Winnie.”

He smiled as he stood up with the towels under his arms. “I’m sure they would appreciate it. Flynn said he has to go back to the hospital later, but came home to sleep for a couple hours.”

“Poor guy. I’ll text him and let him know to bring Katie here.”

He followed me into the large, open space and I set my armful of bibs on the counter. I swiveled carefully toward the door and ran right into him. His chest was rock solid and his strong hand reached out to steady me. If ever there was a guy who could make you weak in the knees, Sawyer Kanki was the guy. Too bad the last man I dated cured me of getting weak in the knee, by giving me all over leg weakness.

I stepped back from his manliness and accepted the towels, dumping them under the counter. “Thanks for your help. Somedays, I shouldn’t get out of bed,” I sighed, shaking my head.

He smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t get out of bed then I don’t get to see you. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about an idea I had. Do you have any free time the next few days?”

“What kind of idea?” I asked skeptically, but he refused to answer, though I waited an appropriate amount of time. I sighed again. “Kupid’s Play Castle is my life. If I’m not here, I’m not busy. Pathetic, but true.”

“If it makes you feel any better, if I’m not in the kitchen, I’m not busy either. I haven’t been busy since college,” he said, then smacked himself in the forehead. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean I haven’t been busy, but I haven’t been busy.”

I stared at him straight faced. “Thanks for clearing it up for me. I found your explanation extremely helpful.”

He snickered and one side of his lips went up. “I’m socially awkward, what can I say? I do better in the kitchen where no one expects me to do anything but yell out the names of dishes and occasionally swear when I start things on fire.”

I laughed then, no longer able to hold it in. “I think you underestimate your busyness. I know for a fact there are several single ladies around here who would love to busy you up.”

This time he laughed straight out. “Busy me up? I haven’t heard that phrase before, I have to hand it to you. Are you one of them?” he asked, his harmless flirting sucking me in.

“I don’t date or cause busyness,” I answered, stooping to reach the toy shelf. I set about getting them out from under the cabinets while he lounged against the counter.

“I guess we’ll have to call it a working dinner then, if you won’t let me call it a date. Now then, tonight is Mahi-Mahi Monday. How about if we meet up around nine? We can eat the leftovers and discuss my idea.”

I stood upright again and limped over with my crutch. “I don’t eat fish.”

He reeled backward as if I had slapped him. “Excuse me? I think I heard you say you don’t eat fish. But I must have misheard you because everyone eats fish in Hawaii.”

I put my hand on my left hip, the only hand free of a crutch. “You didn’t mishear me. I don’t eat fish, even in Hawaii.”

His lip curled up. “Are you allergic?”

I shook my head. “No, but I don’t like fish. It tastes horrible. It’s slimy, nasty, and tastes like the seaweed it lived in, and occasionally like dirt.”

He crossed his hands over his chest. “Where did you say you’re from?”

“I didn’t,” I said, copying his posture.

He held up his hands. “Okay, I’ll make you a black angus burger, but only if you promise to try my pan seared Mahi-Mahi with zesty basil butter.”

“What’s Mahi-Mahi?” I asked, wracking my brain for the definition to pop up in my mental encyclopedia.

He dropped his head into his hand and shook it. When he looked up again he wore a grin. “It’s okay. I’ve always liked a challenge. Are we on for a working dinner?”

“You’re not going to give up until I say yes, are you?”

He shook his head no, a cheeky grin on his face. “I’ve been watching you since you started working here. I’d like to get to know you better and I think we can have a fantastic working relationship.”

I held up my hands as I checked the clock. The parents would start dropping kids off any minute and I was already behind. I had to get him out of here and I knew he wouldn’t leave until I agreed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at nine. Where do I go?”

He clapped his hands once and grasped my hands between his for only a moment. “I’ll pick you up at your room at nine.”

I opened my mouth to tell him not to, but he had already bounced out of the room on his orange and black Nikes. This was starting to feel like a date.

 

 

The dress I chose to wear was simple. The floral pattern was typical of the islands, but it wasn’t gaudy. The spaghetti straps held the slip of material on my shoulders and the hem touched my knees. It was cool, beautiful, and somehow comforting. I swiped at the pleats until they were even and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was the first thing I bought when I landed on the island. For some reason, whenever I wear it, I feel safe. Probably because wearing it reminded me I’m safe here in Hawaii. My shoulders slumped and I rested my forehead on the mirror. It was cool and forced my mind back to the present before I thought too much about what happened back in Minnesota.

I was about to have a working date with the cutest, sexiest, youngest bachelor in all of Kupid’s Cove. The present wasn’t any less scary than the past, come to think of it. Theoretically speaking, he could be messing with me and have absolutely no intention to discuss any plan with me. He might have used it as a ruse to convince me to accept the invitation to dinner. The same invitation he extends once a week. It’s not like I don’t notice his good looks, swagger, and charm. Believe me, I notice. The problem is, I swore off men eight months ago, and he happens to be a member of the man club. I know everyone always says they swear off men when they go through a particularly bad relationship, and I’m relatively certain it’s the base plot for every romance novel ever written. My life isn’t a romance novel though, this is real life, and I’m real scared of men.

I rubbed my left leg and frowned at the woman in the mirror. A year ago, I smiled all the time. At five feet nine inches I’m taller than most women, but I’ve always worked hard to maintain my weight in the svelte category, my hair the perfect shade of chocolate brown, and my nails perfectly painted and tipped. Now, I’m lucky to keep my weight at one hundred pounds, my hair in a ponytail, and my nails short enough they don’t scratch the babies while I’m wiping noses and wiping butts. I don’t recognize the woman in the mirror anymore, and I don’t like it. Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can do about it at the present time.

I spun around and picked up my crutch, slipping my hand in and grasping the handle. My leg was tired after working all day and I stared at the second crutch, leaning against the wall next to my bed. It might be a good idea to take both tonight, even though I hated looking weak in front of others. I had labored for weeks in physical therapy to be able to use only one crutch, but I rarely go out after I’ve spent a whole day in the center. My nights usually consist of dinner with Kate and Gideon followed by a good book on the patio, or a TV show with my leg propped up on pillows in bed. The doctors told me after the injury it would take a solid year before I could make any kind of judgement about recovery of leg function. I have a few months to go before my year is up, but I haven’t seen much improvement lately. I had to remind myself daily it has only been eight months and patience is a virtue. I could strengthen it, protect it, and follow the guidelines given to me by the doctors and therapists, but I couldn’t speed up time.

I squared my shoulders when I noticed the clock flip to nine. I wouldn’t take the second crutch and no one could stop me. Instead, I adjusted the white sweater I had used to cover my bare shoulders, and dabbed on a bit of my favorite perfume, White Ginger. Since leaving Snowberry, I discovered how sheltered my old life was, culturally and physically. The culture of Hawaii is expansive, and there is something to learn about it at every turn. One of those things I learned is how they use natural flowers and herbs of the island to tease their senses. The perfume I wore consisted of white ginger, a flower which grows wild in Hawaii, with an underlying layer of cinnamon, also in abundance in Hawaii. The result is a seductive scent low-key enough to wear daily, but sexy enough to keep them coming back for more. Trust me, I don’t want anything to do with the sexy part, or them coming back for more, but I’ve been on a mission to bring my senses back to life.

I was physically stunted in Snowberry, not in the sense of my height obviously, but in what I could do with my body. In Snowberry, skiing and mountain bike riding was about the most exciting thing available to thrill seekers, but not here. In Hawaii, you could find a new thrill every hour. Between snorkeling, surfing, wind surfing, cave diving, volcano adventures, and numerous other activities, you could go nonstop for days. For those a little less adventurous, there’s always a class being taught about your body and how it moves. I took one of Lei’s hula classes, and it changed my life. Lei is the general manager of the hotel, but she’s also a champion hula dancer. She offers classes every Saturday morning for residents and tourists to learn the basics of the dance. I’ve been attending now for a few weeks. I struggle with some of the moves because my leg doesn’t always like to cooperate, but Lei took me aside and assured me hula isn’t about following the steps to perfection. Hula is about learning your strengths and weaknesses, learning to trust your body, and knowing the dance will be there through all the different stages of your life. The body, like the ocean, ebbs and flows throughout our lifetime. She reminded me my body is recovering, and I have to give it the time it needs. Pushing myself to do activities too difficult for me will only serve to set me back. She was right, and the less I concentrated on getting each move perfect, the more I could concentrate on feeling the movements in my heart, and letting them heal it bit by bit.

The knock ricocheted through my small apartment and I gulped. He was here and I was going to have to open the door. I would have to walk down to Kupid’s Table with him and not hyperventilate in the process. I wiped my hands on my dress and forced back bile. I hate this. I never used to be scared of my own shadow, or of men. I limped to the door and looked through the peephole. Sawyer stood on the other side, nervously glancing around as he waited for me to open the door. He took one step toward the door and leaned in almost resting his forehead on the door.

“Rose, I know you’re standing there deciding if you want to open the door. I’m not going to hurt you. I will, however, feed you one hell of a burger. What do you say?” He took a step back from the door and bounced a few times on his toes, a tentative smile on his face.

I sighed and grasped the doorknob, knowing it was now or never. I yanked open the door much harder than necessary and came face-to-face with him. He steadied me before I toppled over to the left from the momentum of the door.

“Whoa, careful there, cowgirl,” he whispered. “Don’t want you getting hurt on my watch. Kate would send me packing.”

His words forced my lips to tip up. “It’s funny because it’s accurate. It’s nice to see you, Sawyer,” I said, making the proper social noises necessary for such an occasion.

He cocked his head to the left. “Is it? Your face tells me you’re scared to death, and your jumpier than a cat on a hot tin roof. Just relax. Nothing is going to happen tonight. It’s a working dinner. Nothing else.”

It took effort to keep the smile on my face. “I’m not scared. Trepidatious maybe…” I paused and nervously tapped my hand on my hip. “Maybe I am scared. I know I don’t have to be, but logic never trumps emotion. Let me grab my purse.”

I spun around to get the bag and lost my balance. I saw the floor coming toward me and then it stopped, my momentum broken by warm arms around my waist. I was shaking and he stood me upright, but didn’t let me go.

“Rose, I’m concerned. Should I get Kate?” he asked as I trembled in his arms.

I shook my head no. “Don’t bother Kate. I’m tired and lost my balance. It happens all the time.”

“You’re shaking,” he said, as though I didn’t know my teeth were chattering.

“Give me a moment and I’ll be okay. I better take both crutches tonight. It was a long day without Winifred to help me in the nursery.”

He helped me to the bed and I sat, while he got the second forearm crutch. The purse still lay on the counter and he picked it up, slinging the strap over his shoulder. He held the crutch in his right hand and with his left, he helped me up off the bed, keeping his arm through mine.

“Ready?” he asked, but I motioned at the crutch.

“If you give me the crutch we can go.”

He shook his head and helped me toward the door. “I’ll bring it along, but I’ll be your crutch for now, my lady,” he bowed regally and I laughed aloud, shaking my head.

“Okay, but you’re the one who will look like a fruit with my purse on your shoulder.”

He grinned as he used my keycard to lock the door. When Gideon built the employee apartments he spared no expense. They are state of the art everything. The doors lock and unlock using a key much like a hotel card, but it has an added feature of activating and deactivating the alarm system with one swipe. Since they are specially coded for each room, no other keycard will open my door.

He tucked the card into the front pouch of my purse and led me toward the elevator. “I’m not one of those guys who thinks my masculinity hinges on how many sports I play, or by grunting and beating my chest like a caveman. Personally, I would rather my masculinity hinge on being the kind of man who helps a woman, supports a woman, and does what is necessary to keep her safe. In this case, carrying your purse is a simple thing, and it’s one less thing for you to worry about.”

He punched the down button on the elevator and we stood arm-in-arm as we waited for it to arrive. I stared down at the floor to avoid eye contact. “Thank you, I appreciate it. The darn thing always falls off my shoulder and tries to trip me.” He smiled, but didn’t say anything more, leaving me to decide if I needed to fill the silence. “Do you live on the employee floor, too?” I asked. I guess my brain decided I needed to fill the silence.

The elevator dinged and when the doors slid open we stepped on. He hit the button for the basement and we leaned back against the railing in the elevator.

“I live on the other hall, behind your apartment. I was one of the first to move in when Gideon finished the apartments. On my off-duty time I installed all the kitchens, so I got my choice when the time came.”

I leaned forward to stare at him. “Really? I didn’t know you had construction experience.”

He shrugged. “More like kitchen building experience. It’s how I became interested in cooking to start with. My dad built houses for a living and I used to sit with him for hours. I think he always hoped I would follow in his footsteps, so he started teaching me how to install plumbing and appliances. Obviously, I chose a different path, but the things he taught me are still up here,” he explained, tapping his temple. “I promised Gideon I would do the research and purchase all of the appliances, organize the delivery and installation, and check each kitchen to be sure they were in working order. Before Gideon started building, he consulted me on the plans for the apartments. He wanted everyone to have a working kitchen, but space was limited. I was able to give him some ideas on how to incorporate the kitchen into the floorplan, and make it flow as part of the overall aesthetics of the apartment.”

I raised my eyebrows as he spoke. “Wow, I’m impressed. You did a fantastic job. I love my little kitchen. How it comes together to end in a built-in table is ingenious.”

He grinned again as the elevator slowed near the basement. “Most of the apartments are like yours. A few weren’t the right shape to include the built-in table, so they have a free standing one. It’s truly unusual how Gideon does business.”

I nodded as the doors opened and we found ourselves in the hallway halfway between Kupid’s Table and the administrative offices. “He and Kate certainly value their employees. I suppose it’s why they have no turnover. Once you get a position in Kupid Enterprises, you don’t want to leave.”

He led me toward the dimly lit Kupid’s Table. The bar and kitchen were still open, but once the special ended at eight p.m., they only served bar food. Apparently, they didn’t need the head chef once the nightly special was over. He waved at the bartender, Sarafina, who was probably the most gorgeous woman to ever work at Kupid’s Cove. At over six feet tall she is lean with flawless chocolate skin, and coiled curly black hair running down her back in rivulets. In her former life she was a model, but now she’s going to school and bartending here for side cash.

“Sarafina is the kind of woman you should date,” I said as he led me to a table.

He held the chair for me and I sat, resting the crutch on the table while he pushed me in closer. He set my purse next to me and rested the second crutch next to the first. He lowered himself to the chair across from me and leaned forward on the table, glancing around.

“Sarafina is beautiful and exotic, and someone will be lucky to have her, but she’s not my type.”

I cocked my head. “I figured when it came to someone like Sarafina, she was every guy’s type.”

He smiled and took my hand, holding it loosely so not to scare me. “Here’s the thing, Rose. I’m not like most guys. I need to be intrigued by a woman in order to date her. I want to discover her secrets no one else knows. I want to be her partner, but I also want to protect her and be the one she comes to when she’s hurting. I can’t handle high maintenance women who want to be out on the town every night with no intimate connection.”

“You’re saying Sarafina is superficial?” I asked, confused.

“No, I’m saying her personality is take charge and demanding. She’s overbearing, not in a bad way, but also not in a way I could handle in my personal life. You wouldn’t know it by chatting with her, but if you worked closely with her you would discover it quickly. It works for her. It’s who she is, but it’s not what I’m looking for in a woman. Over time physical features fade, but our personality is what remains until we die.”

I kept my eyes trained on the flickering red candle in the middle of the table. “I see. Thanks for clearing it up for me.” To say I was feeling awkward was an understatement.

He chuckled low in his throat and my head snapped up immediately. He was damn handsome with beautiful blue eyes the color of the sea when the sun shines down upon the waves, hair the color of sugary sand, and muscles derived from lifting heavy pots of food day in and day out. He was clean shaven, and the angles of his face were chiseled, and prominent. His eyes were what softened him and gave him the overall appearance of surfer meets businessman. The look worked for him and he was damn handsome.

“You’re stunning tonight, so forgive me if my tongue is tied. I keep trying to think of poetic ways to describe my outlook on life, but your eyes and lips keep distracting me.”

My hand automatically went to my lips as the waiter strode toward us. He spoke to Sawyer, but I didn’t hear a word they said. I was too busy trying to decide how to get up and run, when I can barely walk.