Jill Monroe

One Kiss In... Hawaii


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      A flush tinged his cheeks. “What happens in Hawaii stays in Hawaii, remember?”

      “I’m just saying…” She opened her door and slid out, unable to drag away her gaze. “How do you have time to go to a gym?”

      “I don’t.” He shrugged. “I have a few routines I do at home every morning to keep in shape for tennis.”

      “Plus, you’re tan.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s March. You used a tanning bed.”

      “Right,” he said dryly. “I had to be in Florida recently.” He stuck his head inside the car, and fiddled around, the fluid movement of his shoulder muscles holding her gaze prisoner. “Do you play tennis?”

      “Badly.” She was dying to ask what he’d been doing there, why he hadn’t been home licking his wounds because Friday had been her last day. Obviously it wasn’t all business that had taken him south, or he would’ve had no time for the outdoors.

      She heard the trunk pop, and met him at the rear of the car to see what he had stashed.

      There were a pair of folded blue beach towels and two rolled-up straw mats that seemed to be a favorite of tourists crowding Waikiki beach.

      “Should have bought a cooler and drinks.” He grabbed the towels, passed them to her and then got the mats.

      “I’m impressed you thought to bring these, although not surprised. You’re thorough, if nothing else.”

      He closed the trunk and pocketed the keys, watching her the whole time, a wicked glint of amusement in his brown eyes. “Yes, I am, I’m thorough in everything I do.”

      Somehow the amusement melted into a promise that made her skin tingle with yearning. If this were a dream, she’d be hitting the snooze button, loath to wake up. Good God, this was David. In Hawaii. With her. Sure, she’d known him for a long time, but that was some other David, who in some ways she’d gotten to know quite well.

      This version brought back the old feelings she’d struggled with early on, day after day.

      “Why are you staring at me like that?” He rubbed her upper arm, as if she were a child that needed soothing.

      “Like what?”

      He frowned, the tender concern in his eyes nearly her undoing. “As if you’re afraid.”

      “That’s crazy. What’s there to be afraid of?”

      His mouth curved into a thin smile. “I hope not me.”

      She sucked in a breath when she realized he was right. Fear had tucked itself in a small corner of her heart. But that wasn’t on him. It would be her own fault if she tried to make more of this week than it was. “Nope. I just want to have a good time, no regrets, no expectations.”

      “I want that, too.”

      “Perfect.” So why did his agreement hurt a little? Now that she’d had a small taste of him, was she getting soft? Getting greedy? She had to stick to her cheesecake rule. She could only indulge when she ate out. Not even a sliver was allowed to reside in her refrigerator since one bite was impossible for her. It invariably led to a minibinge.

      Thinking something might come of this week would be a mistake. If David had seriously wanted to pursue her for a real relationship, he could’ve done that in New York. No, she’d seen the women his family deemed appropriate, and while she was no slouch, she wasn’t on anyone’s social radar. Now that she wasn’t even going to practice law, she could just imagine his parents’ horror. But that was good, right? All she wanted was a one-week fling—that’s what this trip had been about from the beginning. That it was with David didn’t change the game.

      His hand closed over hers, and she snapped out of her musings. “We don’t have to stay,” he said quietly. “Say the word, and I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

      “No, I’m having a great time. I spaced out, I know.” She shrugged. “Sorry. It’s just that—Nope, not talking about work.”

      “No argument here.” He let go of her hand, and used the car to balance himself while he kicked off his deck shoes.

      “Mind opening the trunk again? I want to leave my purse and sandals.”

      He did as she asked, then frowned at the peach-colored bikini top she pulled out of her bag.

      “It’s my top,” she said.

      “I know.” He glanced at her breasts. “Where are you going to change?”

      “Here.”

      He didn’t seem thrilled with the idea, but then he didn’t have a say. He squinted through the trees at the pair of figures walking close to the water at the south end, far enough away that their genders were undistinguishable. “I saw a sign for the restrooms about a mile back.”

      “It’ll take two seconds.” She reached under the tank top and unsnapped her bra. “You can warn me if anyone’s coming.”

      “Okay,” he said, doubt reflected in every syllable of the word.

      She smirked. “You do have to turn around.”

      “Right.” He surveyed the area once again before he slowly gave her his back. “You might feel more comfortable changing in the car.”

      “It’s a convertible.”

      “I meant that I’d put the top up,” he said dryly.

      “Okay. All done. You can turn around.”

      He wasted no time in doing just that. His gaze went unerringly to her breasts, which were barely covered by two skimpy triangles of fabric. The way they were thrust out while she tied the bow in back made her a bit self-conscious. Made her clumsy. The task seemed to take forever.

      He finally dragged his gaze away, looking slightly embarrassed.

      She nervously busied herself with wiggling out of her shorts, being careful not to pull the bikini bottoms down with them. Then she took her time folding everything, trying to get rid of the jitters.

      After depositing her clothes in the trunk beside her bag, she did a quick check of her front to make sure everything was in place. She cringed when she noticed a spot on her upper thigh she’d missed covering with the bronzing lotion. Unfortunately, she also noticed the slight roundness of her belly because she never made time for the gym, nor had she done crunches in forever.

      Sighing, she gathered the towels she’d set aside while she changed, and strategically held them up in front of her. Only then did she realize that David had slipped out of his khakis to reveal a pair of red swim trunks. His thighs were nicely muscled, though not overly so, but his calves surprised her with their bulk and definition. They didn’t belong to a casual jogger, but more like a serious runner.

      He closed the trunk, and they followed a grassy path through a cluster of trees that bordered the pristine white sand. There was no need for discussion as to where they’d plant themselves. They stopped at a spot that was half-sunny, half-shaded, and shielded them from the north side of the beach by the leafy lean-to.

      David untied the straw mats, and then shook out each one, placing them side by side, so close together they almost touched.

      Mia dropped a beach towel on each mat before focusing her gaze on the water gently lapping the shore. She was painfully aware that David was staring at her. It was weird that she would feel more self-conscious in a bikini than being naked. But then, this was full, unforgiving sunlight. Not the same as a dimly lit hotel room. On the upside, she got to eye him, too. She looked over at him.

      He gave her a guilty smile. “I feel like the proverbial kid in the candy store.”

      She grinned and lowered herself to the mat, positioning herself so that she could lean back, giving the illusion of a flatter tummy. Giving the illusion that she was cool and composed when her insides