Chapter Eleven
Rowan didn’t know why she agreed to the hike.
Well—she did. Kelsey had shown up at the surf shop on Saturday, eyes bright, bubbling about hiking the famous Diamond Head Summit Trail the next morning.
Of course, Everett had been busy at work.
Rowan knew the look in the girl’s eyes: a mix of hope and that teenage ache to share something beautiful with someone who might actually pay attention.
Her rapid apology, saying it was okay if Rowan said no because she didn’t want to be a bother, made her chest ache.
So Rowan had said yes. It was a beautiful Sunday morning, and she had the day off. She’d settled Bagel in with his snacks and drove to meet Kelsey, where Tom was dropping her off. It’d be a great day for some exercise and quality time with a young girl she was slowly becoming attached to.
What she didn’t want—absolutely did not want—was Everett Hale striding across the parking lot at the base of Diamond Head in basketball shorts, HOKA sneakers, and a soft heather-gray T-shirt that clung to him like it had been specifically engineered to showcase the precise cut of his chest. Powerful, thick thighs were dusted with dark hair.
A New York Mets baseball cap perched on his head.
He’d traded his overpriced watch for an Apple with a plain black band.
Rowan actually stopped walking for a second, brain blanking out like someone had unplugged her neural cord.
He looked . . . normal. Human. A little out of his element, which should’ve been hilarious, except the late-morning sun turned his skin golden and his smiling mouth looked dangerously kissable. Dark strands of hair lay unevenly against his broad forehead.
This was a nightmare.
After their dinner, Rowan convinced herself it’d been a fluke.
After all, aphrodisiacs were in all that rich, delicious food.
The place had throbbed with shadows and intimacy.
They’d drunk too much and shared secrets.
None of it would be real in the harsh morning light, so she’d gone to bed and refused to think about the strange premonition that everything had changed between them.
Kelsey bounded behind him with her usual bubbly energy. “Look, Rowan! Dad decided to come with us!”
Rowan’s stomach dropped. Great. Perfect. Exactly what she needed—more proximity to the man she was trying very hard not to picture beneath that shirt. A man she still disliked because of his ethics to build luxury hotels, worship money, and spend little time with his only daughter.
Unfortunately, her body begged for his attention. Traitor.
“My meeting ended early,” he said. “Figured I’d skip the gym and get in some natural exercise.”
His gaze met hers and locked in. Awareness settled between them, thick in the humid air, and she found herself swallowing hard. Her skin sensitized under the harsh sun.
“This is a surprise,” she said, crossing her arms because if she didn’t physically hold herself back, she might stare like a thirsty idiot.
He seemed to catch her not-too-thrilled tone. “I’m full of surprises,” he said dryly.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. You showed up in shorts. Shocking.”
His mouth twitched. “Try not to stare too hard.”
God help her—she did, just for a second. Enough to notice the way the thin cotton clung to his stomach. Enough for heat to curl low in her belly and make her furious with herself.
“Please,” she said. “I’ve seen better legs on sea turtles.”
Kelsey burst into laughter. Everett hummed, unimpressed. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the trail.
Diamond Head was a blunt kind of beautiful.
No lush green, no soft sand—just layered rock, hot earth, and the relentless rise of a trail that refused to pretend it was easy.
The ocean flashed in and out of view, bright and steady, as if reminding her the island held more than one kind of strength.
They began walking, her legs stretching to accommodate that first incline.
The switchbacks cut into volcanic rock and heat rose in shimmering waves off the ground.
The air smelled like dry grass, and the sea breeze drifted in from the coast.
Rowan watched Everett take in the view with a quiet, surprised awe, like he hadn’t expected beauty to hit him this hard. “Bet you don’t get this view in the city,” she said.
His voice was low. “No. We get other things, but this is something special.”
The trail narrowed, forcing them to get close. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that Rowan felt the energy dance and hum between them. He’d skipped his cologne today. The natural scent of sweat, soap, and man teased her senses. His broad shoulder brushed hers. She tried not to jump back.
They hit a shaded switchback where the breeze finally caught up to them, sweeping cool air over Rowan’s overheated skin. Kelsey jogged ahead, already chatting with a couple of high school girls who’d been climbing at the same pace.
Rowan slowed beside Everett, pretending it was to admire the view. Really, she needed to catch her breath. From the hike. From him.
He wiped sweat from his temple with the back of his hand, the line of his jaw tight, his T-shirt clinging to muscles she absolutely refused to think about.
“I’ll say it,” he muttered. “This is harder than it looked on YouTube.”
Her laugh slipped out before she could stop it. “You watched a tutorial?”
“I prepare.” Then, quieter: “For everything.”
Something in the way he said it needled her, tugging at a thread she wasn’t sure she wanted to pull. “Ever try preparing for fun?” she asked.
His mouth hooked at the corner. “I tried once. It ended in a thirty-page itinerary.”
She grinned. “You’re hopeless.”
“I’m learning. Against my will.”
They climbed a few steps in silence, the rustle of dry brush and distant ocean filling the space between them. Then Everett exhaled, long and low. “Kelsey thinks I know what I’m doing. But most of the time? I’m just . . . guessing. Trying to be the opposite of what I grew up with.”
Surprise hit at his confession. He wasn’t looking at her, but she could feel the raw honesty pulling tight across his shoulders.
It was as if they were continuing that dinner and their growing intimacy, but she couldn’t harden her heart and not answer.
“No one knows what they’re doing. Not parents, not surfers, not anyone. We just pretend until something works.”
He huffed a laugh. “That’s terrifying.”
“Welcome to the human race, Suit.”
His gaze raked over her, lingering a beat too long. “You make it look easy.”
Her smile faltered, truth loosening from her throat before she could stop it. “It doesn’t feel easy,” she whispered. “Not since the injury. Not since losing my dad. I’m still figuring out what’s left.”
His expression shifted—sharp edges relaxing, something warm edging in. “You seem pretty damn strong from where I’m standing.”
Heat chased up her spine that had nothing to do with the climb. She looked away before he could see too much.
They reached a shaded bench halfway up. An older woman sat there, fanning herself with a brochure. Her lipstick was coral-bright, her hair in a silver braid down her back. Sweat pricked her face and she breathed a bit heavily.
Everett immediately stopped. “Ma’am, are you okay? Can I offer you some water?”
The woman looked up with a smile. “Oh, how kind. I didn’t plan correctly and drank the whole thing the first quarter.” She accepted his offered untouched bottle and drank. “Your mama raised you right.”
His own smile flashed. It was real and soft and made Rowan want to touch his lips. “Where are your family members?” he asked.
“Racing ahead. Forgot they brought their poor old grandma,” she said. “Kids these days have no sense of pacing.”
Everett nodded gravely. “Savages. My daughter left us behind, too.”
“Can’t imagine tackling this hike in the afternoon. Not sure I’m up for the finish but don’t want the kids to be alone up there.”
“Why don’t you walk with us for a bit? We’re not in a rush.”
The woman beamed at him like he’d given her diamonds. “I’d love to.” She turned to Rowan. “You chose well with this one. Not many gentlemen left out there.”
“Oh, we’re not a thing!”
The woman gave a knowing grin. “Sure you’re not.”
Everett winked. “Told ya I’m a catch,” he said mildly, before clasping the woman’s elbow and guiding her forward.
Rowan rolled her eyes.
They climbed together. Everett kept a careful eye on their unexpected hiking companion, matching her steps, adjusting his own without calling attention to it. Rowan had never thought of him as anything other than rigid, judgmental, and addicted to control.
But right now? He was charming and patient, chattering with this stranger like they were old friends. When they reached the summit, the woman thanked him and reunited with her three grandchildren, who enthusiastically pulled her to the side to take a pic.
They finished side by side and found Kelsey. The crater stretched beneath them in an immense bowl of greens and browns, the Pacific opening wide beyond. The sky was streaked with gold and lavender. The wind lifted Rowan’s hair and brushed it across Everett’s arm.
Kelsey yelped from the lookout point above. “This is amazing! I gotta take some pics for Snap!”
Rowan leaned on the rail beside Everett. Their hands almost touched. “Thanks for offering to go with her,” he said quietly. “You’re becoming much more than her surf instructor.”
The words threaded gently through her defenses. “I enjoy being with her.”
They settled into a comfortable silence and shared the beauty of the view. “I had a good time at dinner. I’d like to take Kelsey to a luau. Would you join us?”
She blinked. Not a date, right? Weren’t they still in dislike with each other? “Why?”