Chapter Eight
Hailey tried to keep her eyes forward as the pickup rattled down the coastal road, but her gaze kept wandering back to Tim. Or more precisely, his arms. The man had to have the thickest, most muscular forearms she’d ever seen. His hands were huge too, with veins that ran close to the surface as if there was no room among all that muscle underneath.
She jerked her eyes away. She’d done far too much covert peeking over the last six days. Six of the best days she’d ever had. So unrushed. So peaceful. The last few years of her life seemed like a constant blur of activity — meetings, photoshoots, training sessions. On Maui, time ticked by at a totally different pace.
Part of it was the place, but the rest was Tim. The man was steady as a rock. Quiet and introspective. Thoughtful, too, like in the way he made sure to give her the least lumpy chair, the one unchipped mug, and first use of the sink. If she’d let him, he would have done the cooking and cleaning, and all the hauling of water from the creek, too. He was ridiculously tidy — so much that she started aligning pillows on the battered old couch at exact angles to each other the way he did.
And, wow — what a kisser. Her chaste little goodnight peck on the cheek had turned into the most electrifying kiss she’d ever had — and Tim hadn’t even been trying hard. What would it feel like if he kissed her with wild abandon?
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked out the car window so he couldn’t see her blush. It was crazy how the man messed with her mind — and body.
“You okay?” he asked.
She turned even redder and reached for her water bottle. “Perfect.”
“Sleep okay last night?”
She nearly spat the mouthful of water all over the cab of the pickup. After that kiss? She’d spent half the night touching herself, pretending he was there with her.
“Good, thanks. And you?”
She risked a look over and — wow. Was that a blush spreading on her tough soldier’s face?
He scrubbed a hand over his unshaved chin and nodded quickly. “Fine, thanks.”
She hid a grin. Maybe she wasn’t the only one feeling the attraction. Then she sighed, because of all the times to lose her head…
He tilted his head at her. Not asking What? outright but asking all the same.
She motioned vaguely with her hands. “You’re like Mr. Action Plan. Meanwhile, I don’t have a clue what to do with my life.”
He laughed. “Ten years in the army leaves plenty of time to make plans, let me tell you.”
She pictured him leaning against a tank, staring off into a desert sunset. Or him lying on a bunk in his barracks, staring at the ceiling and tapping his thumbs.
His voice dropped. “It’s not always good, you know. Kind of a compulsion at times.”
His hands tightened over the steering wheel, and a totally different image zipped through Hailey’s mind. One of Tim sprinting through a combat zone that shuddered with deafening explosions and shouts.
She swallowed hard. Maybe the man wasn’t as unmarked by combat as he let on. Maybe all that planning was a way to seize back control after one too many close calls.
She touched his arm, and the smile he’d forced gradually grew looser. His eyes went from dull brown to a bright, shiny hazel, and the muscles of his forearm went from rock hard to…okay, rock hard, but not quite as tense as before.
He drove on for a quiet, companionable minute while Hailey looked at Maui with new eyes. It was easy to take the views for granted, but when she reminded herself of other areas of the world…
Her fingers reached for her pearl, then stopped. She’d left it under the mattress in her room before showering and hadn’t had time to slip it back on. Which was a pity, because there was something comforting about that pearl.
“Architectural design,” Tim said out of the blue.
“What?”
“Architectural design. Ever think of that? You have an eye for it.” He waved over his shoulder. “Like your idea for a gazebo up at the house.”
“I just kind of threw that out,” she protested. They’d been looking from the porch toward the creek one evening, discussing Tim’s idea for a covered picnic spot out there. In no time, she’d grabbed a pencil and sketched an octagonal gazebo.
“That’s what I mean,” he said. “My idea would have come out looking like a hut at a state park. Yours would look great. Do you do that a lot?”
She laughed. “Believe me, my artistry is limited to doodling on napkins. It never amounts to much.”
“Who knows? Maybe someday it will.” He said someday with such conviction, it warmed her soul. Then he laughed. “And, if all else fails, you could make coffee. What is that called — a barista?”
She laughed. “Are you saying I’m bound for Starbucks?”
He laughed — really laughed — because they’d gotten over the hump of that awkward moment the way they had gotten over so many others in their first days. “Nothing wrong with that, but no. Something upscale. Your coffee is way too good.”
“Glad you like it.” She grinned.
For the next few miles, she took in the scenery and chewed over the image of a someday a lot like this. Busy days. Honest work. A good man to share it all with.
The curving road straightened, and the cliffy coastline gave way to long stretches of beach. Tim made a left turn at a light then parked and motioned to the building on their right.
“Hardware store’s right there. It might be better for you to wait in the truck, though.”
She pulled her baseball cap low — the pink cap he’d gotten her that day in the mall — and shook her head. “Are you kidding? No one’s going to recognize me now.”
Her hair was matted, her legs scratched, her nails a disaster. She was the polar opposite of the made-up, perfectly put together puppet she used to turn into on the set of any photo shoot. And the best part was, nobody frowned or hurried to fix all those terrible flaws.
Tim looked her over dubiously. “You still look too good.” She laughed outright, and he turned pink. “I mean…” He grumbled a little and fished around behind his seat. “Here. Put that on.”
It was a checkered flannel shirt. His flannel shirt. She pulled it on slowly, inhaling deeply in the little cave it formed. It was nice, being wrapped in Tim’s scent. Safe and secure, where the world couldn’t find her.
“How’s that?” she asked, pulling the shirt the rest of the way down.
Tim stared without saying a word. His eyes flashed, and she had the distinct impression of him holding an entire conversation with himself. He did that sometimes, as if he were part Boy Scout, part bad boy, and the latter was struggling to break free.
He slid out of the truck a second later, muttering, “You still look too good.”
Hailey hid a smile as she followed him into the hardware store. The way most men ogled her creeped her out. But Tim looked at her the way a person might look at a waterfall or an especially striking landscape. Like she was something special, something he’d never seen before.
Of course, she was out in public, and she had to be careful. So she kept her chin down and stuck close to Tim. It was childishly exciting to be out after so many days in her hideaway. She’d loved the peace of the remote little cottage, but it was nice to get out too. Really nice — until her gaze caught on the newspaper rack, and she froze.
Runaway bride holed up in island hideaway? the headline screamed.
Hailey stared. There was an image of her facing Jonathan at the wedding on Waikiki, and another image of some kind of estate with a huge wall. At first, she panicked. Was that Koa Point, where Tim’s friends lived? But when she got herself together enough to read the caption, she exhaled.
Witnesses report seeing Ms. Crewe on an estate owned by celebrity actress on Kauai…
At least there was that. The reporters had the wrong island and the wrong estate — not to mention the wrong friend, because she didn’t know any celebrities. She hurried after Tim and stayed a step behind him the rest of the way.
“What do you think of these?” he asked, holding up two cans of paint. “Dawn said she thought the hall would look good in yellow.”
Slowly, Hailey relaxed. A hardware store was just about the last place anyone would recognize her, right? She considered the paint cans.
“That one. It’s softer.”
He squinted at the label. “Softer? They both look yellow to me.”
She nearly laughed, imagining what her makeup artist would have to say about that.
“Believe me, that one’s much better.”
He looked at both cans one more time, perplexed, and finally put one back. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Ten minutes later, they had everything they needed — plus an issue of Architectural Digest Tim handed to her with a stern look that said, Someday, remember?
She took it and even threw in a second magazine — an amateurish gazette called Hawaiian Horticulture.
“Who knows?” she joked at his inquiring look. “I might just grow my own coffee someday.”
That was a joke, but Tim nodded so earnestly, she couldn’t help but mull over the idea. She was looking for a career change, after all.
She started leafing through the magazines on the drive back, but the sun was setting, so she put them aside and looked up. The sky was a purplish blue, and the clouds turned orange and pink.
“Beautiful,” she murmured.
Tim glanced over. “The sunset is really amazing from over at Koakea. But, yeah. This is nice too.”
She snorted. “You’re getting spoiled.”
He laughed. “Maybe I am.” Then he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and pointed left. “Spoiled enough for dinner out, maybe. Takeout, I mean. Okay with you?”
She nodded eagerly. Anything that drew out this beautiful drive with Tim worked for her.
“According to my friend Boone, the best lunch truck on Maui is on this beach.” He swung the vehicle off the road, into the parking lot of a beach park. “Hopefully, we’re not too late.”
“Hopefully,” she echoed, not the least concerned. That was another thing about Tim — that sense of everything will turn out all right. That rock-steady, I have a plan and nothing is a problem outlook she wished she could emulate.
The beach showed through the trees, and the surf was up — way up, from the look and sound of it. A big silver truck was parked in the nearly deserted parking lot. A family was moving toward a car with their rolling cooler and beach toys in tow, and two young men loaded kiteboards into a battered old station wagon.
“You ever try that?” she asked.
“Kiteboarding? Not my kind of thrill.”
She laughed, having quickly learned that about him. The man seemed at his most content with long days of hard labor and quiet evenings by a crackling fire. Had he always been that way, or had his time in the military taught him to cherish the little things?
“What about you?” he asked.
She shook her head quickly. “I’d love to try surfing, but I doubt I’d be coordinated enough to kitesurf.”
He shook his head. “Don’t underestimate yourself.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d said that, and the words stuck in her mind. Did she really underestimate herself? Was it a by-product of having her mother nag at her all the time? Either way, she’d started to make his words her mantra. When the time came to face the world again, she’d make sure to keep that message at the front of her mind.
The thought of venturing back into the hustle and bustle of LA nearly turned her stomach, so she pushed the thought away. She’d given herself a few more days to clear her mind before making any decisions, and dammit, she was going to enjoy every minute of that time.
“Jenny’s Mixed Plate?” She read the painted letters on the side of the truck.
“That’s the one.”
The second Tim parked and they both slid out, the Asian woman behind the raised counter of the lunch truck called out.
“Last call before I close up for the night. What will it be?”
Hailey hurried over and studied the menu. She’d never had a fish taco, and she had no idea what a poke bowl might be.
“Um…what do you recommend?” she asked Tim.
He shrugged and whispered, “I’m not sure. First time out in Hawaii.”
Something about that made her glow. His first time out, and it was with her?
“Whatever’s easy for you,” she told the woman behind the counter, knowing all too well what it was like to clean up a restaurant only to have a last-minute customer rush through the door.
Tim nodded, and the woman in the lunch truck gave her an appreciative smile. “I can do a poke bowl and a luau plate. Fine with you?”
Hailey nearly laughed. If only the woman knew how fine she felt. For years, her mother had kept her on a short leash, shielding her away from nice, down-to-earth guys like Tim. So a night out — even a modest night out to a takeout truck — with a sweet construction worker type felt like an evening at a royal ball. Better, even, because no one fussed over her hair or clothes. No one counted her calories. She was free to be herself — and in charge of herself — for a change.
They took the food out to the top of a sand dune and ate with their fingers — another plus. The marinated fish was delicious, and while Tim kept apologizing for being on the wrong side of the island for the sunset, she couldn’t have cared less. Surf rolled up on the beach in endless breakers, and they stayed long after the last of the kitesurfers had gone home.
“The park must be closing soon,” Hailey murmured, although she didn’t want to go.
Tim didn’t seem too concerned. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure no one is going to come along and kick us out.”
And so they sat there, watching the surf as the color slowly faded from the sky. The sun was setting somewhere behind them, but facing east was symbolic, somehow. Facing the future instead of dwelling in the past.
Hailey hugged the flannel shirt around herself and turned to Tim, about to thank him yet again. But before she could speak, their eyes caught as they had so often over the past few days. And not just caught but locked together, and she never wanted to let go.
“You’ve got a crumb,” he whispered, brushing her cheek with his thumb.
He kept his hand there afterward, cupping her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. She couldn’t help it. For the first time in years, she felt grounded. Confident that whatever she chose to do, everything would be all right.
The wind played with her hair, making it toss over Tim’s hand. When he combed it back, she nearly hummed with delight. She opened her eyes to find Tim that much closer. His gaze had dropped to her lips, and his eyes seemed to be glowing a faint yellow-green as they had a few times over the past days. A trick of the light?
When Tim looked up, she could read the question in his eyes.
Can I kiss you? Please?
They’d been sitting close, with her knee bumping his and their arms crossed behind their backs, propping themselves up as they’d taken in the view. But the only view she wanted now was a close-up of Tim.
Could he kiss her?
Hell yes. She was dying for him to.