The only thing I want to swallow right now is a Mai Tai. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and let’s go!
My inner voice, apparently, is ready to tie one on.
I timed my vacation to start on a Thursday so I could kick it off with the resort luau. Maybe that’s cheesy, but I want the full immersive Hawaiian tourist experience.
After showering, I dress in linen slacks and a—yes, you guessed it—Hawaiian print shirt and stroll down to the lobby. I’m pointed in the direction of the luau in the resort’s garden area, and I follow the smell of roasting meat and the gentle murmur of chatter and laughter from the guests already there.
There’s a tiki bar set up, so I walk up to the counter to order my Mai Tai.
Then I see her.
Sitting on a stool by herself near the end of the bar is what I can only describe as a goddess. In my thirty-four years on this earth, I have never seen anyone as stunning as she is. Mid-twenties, long, curly dark hair, large, pale eyes, and full lips. She’s wearing a floral print dress with thin straps that threaten to slide down her bronzed shoulders, and a pretty purple and white flower is tucked behind one ear.
“She came in about ten minutes ago.”
I snap back to reality and look at the bartender, an older woman with a cloud of gray-blonde hair. “Huh, sorry?”
She smiles and slides the drink across the bar to me. “That lovely young lady you were just gazing at.”
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be a creep.”
“I didn’t say you were. She’s almost done with her drink, by the way.”
My face grows hot. “She’s probably waiting for someone.”
“She’s not. I asked.” The bartender smiles again as she mixes another drink. “Do you believe in people’s energy, sir?”
“Uh . . .” I shrug. “Sure. Why not?”
“I have a good feeling about you.” The bartender adds a thick pineapple wedge to the rim of a glass of bright pink liquid. “And I have a good feeling about her. Why don’t you take this over to her?” She winks, then without waiting for a reply, turns to help another guest.
Well, hell.
When in Honolulu, I guess.
I pick up the second drink and walk toward the young woman. “Aloha.”
She swivels her head toward me, and her eyes widen a little. “Wow. I mean, hi. I mean, aloha.”
That’s a good sign, I think. She’s even more beautiful up close, and in the fire from the tiki torches, I note her eyes are hazel. There are also freckles across her nose, which are about the cutest damn things I’ve ever seen. I hand her the drink. “I noticed two things about you when I walked in.”
She arches a brow. “Enlighten me.”
I grin and hold up my fingers. “One. You’re alone and almost done with your drink. Two. You are, without a doubt, the single most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my entire life.”
3
Lyla
Uh-oh. I’ve been charmed.
The man who offered me the drink has only said a handful of words to me, and already, I’m intrigued. This is not good. What else is not good? He’s gorgeous. Satiny dark-brown skin, a perfect smile complemented by perfect white teeth. Light, trimmed scruff lines his jaw. He looks a little older, like maybe his early to mid-thirties. He’s definitely got a good amount of time on my twenty-six years.
My head gets light, and my heart pounds. Not good signs. I didn’t come to Hawaii to meet somebody; I came to be alone, like Olivia said. Besides, it’s been so long since I met someone like this, I don’t even know how to play anymore.
I toss my head. “You must not get out much.” It seems appropriate and haughty, but it comes out sounding a little bitchy. Go figure.
But Handsome only chuckles. “On the contrary. I get out quite a bit.”
I wave a hand around the area. “For your . . . job?”
He nods. “I haven’t been on vacation for, oh, five years now. Something like that.” He tilts his head. “So, what branch are you in?”
“Me?” I squeak. “Oh, no. I’m not in the military. My boss is sponsoring my stay here. He’s retired Army. What branch are you?”
“Former Marine,” he replies. “Now, I’m part of a unit that’s sort of like a joint task force.”
“Special forces?” I’m only quoting stuff I’ve heard on TV. I don’t know a single thing about the military.
He grins as if onto me. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“You’re being cagey about that,” I say. “Must be important. Top-secret.”
He only smiles and lifts a brow. “Oh, you think you can read me?”
“I’m pretty good at that.” Now I cock my head. “You’re not here for a long time; you’re just here for a good time.”
He tips his head back and laughs. The sound is rich and deep, genuinely full of mirth. “That was . . . profound.”
“Am I wrong?”
He leans his elbow on the bar. “Yes and no. I’m not here for a long time—five days. I am here for a good time—hiking, snorkeling, gorging myself on Hawaiian barbecue, lying on the beach in the sun, having more of these.” He lifts his glass. “Is that the good time you were referencing?”
I glance down at my drink, but it’s really an excuse to check out his hand. No wedding ring, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a partner. “No good times with the ladies?”
He gazes into my eyes and shakes his head. “No. I’m here solo.”
A shiver races down my spine.
“What about you?” He makes an undeniable show of checking out my hand. “No wedding ring. No engagement ring. You said your boss is sponsoring your stay.”
“Maybe I have a boyfriend,” I challenge. “Or maybe my ring is getting cleaned.”
The man shakes his head. “No. I’m pretty good at reading people too. You’re here by yourself. And you don’t have a special guy in your life.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s the energy I’m picking up.” He glances at the older bartender, who’s doing a poor job of pretending like she’s not eavesdropping on us, and she grins. She reminds me of someone’s fun aunt. “You’re not the kind of woman who would entertain this kind of conversation with another man if you had one.”
“What kind of conversation is that?” I ask, unable to keep the breathiness out of my voice, and finally take a huge gulp of the drink he brought me. Fruity, sweet, rummy. Sure to get me in trouble later.
He finishes his drink. “The kind that progresses to where I ask if you’d like to take a stroll on the beach with me.”
Was this in Olivia’s guidebook of How To Travel Solo? I finish my drink in two more swallows and slide off my stool. “Give me one moment, okay?”
He smiles and lifts a brow. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”
Oh Lord. I turn from him and head for the ladies’ restroom, trying to think clearly and pick out all his flaws. I pull my phone out and call Olivia, glancing at my watch. Six p.m. Hawaii time, so that means it’s midnight in DC.