Chapter Ten
“I can’t believe I’ve been here three days, and this is the first time I’ve actually been on the beach.” Amy rubbed sunscreen over her fair skin, swirling the cream onto her legs and other places Ray longed for his hands to go.
“I’m glad to finally have some time alone with you.” Ray looked out over the hordes of couples and families on blankets and beach chairs three deep. “Well, not exactly alone, but—”
“I know what you mean.” Amy giggled. She handed him the tube of sunscreen, shoved the straps of her bikini top off her shoulders, and turned her back to him. “Do you mind?”
Oh, hell no, he didn’t mind. Ray spilled sunscreen onto his hands and gently massaged her back with his fingers.
He wasn’t sure, but he thought he detected a soft purr from her throat.
The sensual pleasure he derived from touching her was heightened by the realization that this slice of alone time they’d carved out could end at any moment.
He liked Doug and Emily. Ray had enjoyed having lunch with them in Chinatown and touring downtown Honolulu, especially the Iolani Palace and the building across the street used for the facade of Hawaii Five-0 headquarters.
The famous King Kamehameha statue seemed much smaller than it appeared on the television shots, but they’d all jockeyed for turns posing with it.
Amy’s brother seemed to be warming to him, especially after the football game—as long as Doug was within chaperoning distance of his little sister.
So Ray had been surprised, when they’d returned to the hotel, that Doug had gone upstairs with Emily for a nap instead joining him and Amy on the beach. Ray could guess what nap meant.
“You have good hands,” Amy said.
He swallowed hard. How was he supposed to respond to that?
“On the football field,” she added hurriedly. “Emily and I were watching you play. You looked so confident, so agile.”
He chuckled. “Emily, huh?”
She turned around, only slightly blushing. “You were so good with those kids too. Explaining things to them at a level they could understand.” She drew up her knees to her chest. “Even I understood, and I know nothing about football.”
“It was fun.” He’d agreed to the game as his reward so the boy’s family would no longer feel indebted to him, but Ray had found himself truly rewarded by the experience.
It had been a long time since he’d even held a football.
The feel of the pigskin in his hands, anticipating the throw and the catch, had brought back a rush he’d thought he’d gotten over but which still filled him with adrenaline.
“Is it the challenge or the competition you enjoy?”
“Maybe both. When you play your best and come out on top, there’s nothing in the world like it.”
She seemed to consider his words. “I’ve never thought of success as a challenge. For me, it’s just what I have to do.”
He nodded. And there was their problem in a nutshell. Amy was on the fast track to success, and he was on the slow train to nowhere. All he could count on was today. He pushed to his feet. “Ready to swim?”
She looked hesitant, even doubtful.
Giving her his most charming grin, he extended his hand. “Come on. Last one in is a rotten egg.”
Amy jumped up and took off running. He gave her a head start, catching up with her just before she hit the water, then scooped her into his arms.
She squealed, “What are you doing?”
“Winning. My feet hit the water first.”
“Cheater.” She pounded her fist against his shoulder. “Put me down.”
“If you insist.” He ran with her several paces into the ocean, then, just as a huge wave came upon them, let go.
Rolling into the surf, Amy bobbed below the waterline, and, for a second, Ray feared he’d thrown a nonswimmer in over her head. In the next second she reappeared, laughing, then swam away.
Three seconds later he felt a tugging at the waistband of his swim trunks. What the heck? In the next second, his feet were kicked out from under him. When he came up abovewater, he reached behind him, feeling only his bare butt. His suit was hooked around his ankles.
A grinning Amy appeared at the crest of the next wave. Pulling up his swimsuit, Ray set his face in a mock grimace. “Now you’ve done it. Game on,” he challenged, swimming after her.
Amy was more slippery than any football he’d ever handled.
She struggled, giggling in his arms when he caught her, but he didn’t let go.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she tried to pull herself up and over his shoulders, but Ray hung on.
A huge wave came in and broke as it reached them, knocking them both to the ocean floor.
They tumbled in each other’s arms. Ray skinned his knee on the gritty sand but kept his hold on Amy until they were in shallow water.
“You okay?” he asked.
She coughed a second and nodded. Her white bikini top was almost translucent.
With her standing so close to him, her nipples pushed into his chest. Ray held his hands to his sides to keep from cupping her ass and pressing her against his blatant arousal.
He could just imagine Doug and Emily showing up now.
Amy blushed and drew back. “Race you to the beach blanket. Last one there is a rotten egg.”
She took off, but Ray remained. Wading into waist-deep water, he made a show of washing the sand off his arms and elbows, buying time.
He rejoined her on the blanket. “I guess you won this one.”
“I guess so.” She grinned.
Ray lay on his back beside her, breathing in her scent. Surf and sand and sunscreen and just Amy. She was driving him crazy. All he could think about was burying his face between those perfectly shaped breasts. Or rolling over onto her body and …
“You never told me what you do for a living,” she said.
That brought his brain back to normal.
“Emily and I guessed that you’re a teacher. Well, Emily guessed, because she teaches high school, and she noticed how much patience you had with the kids.” She looked at him with anticipation. “Did we guess right?”
“No. Not a teacher.”
Amy was still looking at him, waiting for more.
He realized he couldn’t put this off any longer.
“I’m actually between jobs right now. After college I sold cars for a while in Stillwater—customers love a football hero—but I got bored with that and moved on.
My last job was selling tractors and heavy equipment in a town near my family’s farm.
” The farm he’d been so hell-bent to get away from.
“But nothing matches the rush of playing football.”
He glanced away a minute before daring to look back at her, fearing disappointment in her eyes. Her mouth was pinched, her expression thoughtful. She was probably figuring out a way to politely extricate herself from this loser.
In an effort to break the awkward silence, he asked, “What are your plans after you finish graduate school?” Listening to her ramble on about her career path, it was painfully obvious that Amy Pratt was leagues above him in the life-planning department.
A girl like her was better suited to someone like his younger brother, Bobby.
The kid had always been smart as a whip.
He’d earned an academic scholarship to college, not a jock ride as Ray had.
And, like Amy, Bobby had his whole life planned out.
“Hi, you two.”
Ray looked up to see Emily and Doug approaching. From their flushed and happy faces, he guessed they’d had a wonderful nap. The kind of nap his body ached to engage in with Amy.
What was it about this woman that pressed all his buttons? Nothing about his lackluster Oklahoma future matched her picture-perfect life. He should just walk away before someone got hurt.
Doug slapped Ray’s shoulder. “You up for some bodysurfing?”
Ray jumped to his feet and stripped off his T-shirt. “You’re on.”
“We have your room ready, Mr. and Mrs. Clarke.” The clerk behind the desk proceeded to explain to Carrie’s parents about all the amenities, including the free Wi-Fi and a long list of other things that no one really cared about.
Not seeing Carrie anywhere in the lobby, Amy wrapped the towel more tightly around her waist and twisted to face her brother. “You guys go on up without me. I’m going to say hi to Carrie’s folks.”
“Will we see you again tonight?” Doug asked.
“Emily will.” Amy turned to her future sister-in-law. “You’re still coming to the bachelorette party, right?”
“Absolutely.” She patted Doug’s arm. “This guy is ditching me early to keep a date with a football game in the bar.”
“Hey, you said you wanted to go to the party,” Doug protested.
“I do.” Emily sank into her fiancé and, raising her chin, lightly kissed his lips. “We can make our own fun later.”
Doug didn’t say a word, but he stared down at Emily like he’d forgotten anyone else was in the hotel.
The flash of heat between those two was so strong that Amy actually took a step back and resisted the urge to fan herself.
Ray lingered, his gaze shifting from the happy couple to her.
For a brief moment she thought she saw the same hunger in his eyes.
She probably did. She’d seen it on the beach, in the water, and, now that she thought about it, pretty much all morning during their Honolulu tour.
Didn’t all men think about sex every nine seconds or something ridiculous like that?
She’d only be kidding herself to believe he could feel about her the way Doug did about Emily.
When she’d swam up behind Ray earlier and knocked his feet—and his swim trunks—out from under him, he’d come up spewing water like Old Faithful, fire in his eyes, ready to lunge at the person foolish enough to tackle him.
Instead his eyes had landed on Amy, and his expression had softened.
Now a wary smile graced his features. She wished instead that the tender expression from before still stared back at her.
“I think I’ll get a cool drink in the bar,” Ray said.
“Good idea. Why don’t you order me a margarita? This should only take a minute.”
Ray nodded and walked away.
“Amy, dear.” Carrie’s mother smiled warmly at Amy’s approach. “I expected my daughter to be here.”
So did Amy. “She should be down in a sec. I know she had some last-minute details to go over.”
“Yes. Details.” The woman shook her head. “I swear that girl is so hard-headed it’s no wonder—”
Extending his hand, the clerk gave Mr. Clarke a small cardboard envelope. “Here are two key cards for your room—”
“Room?” Carrie’s mom interrupted. “We have a suite.”
The man turned to his computer. “Just give me a moment to check.” Hunching closer, his brows buckled as he squinted at the screen. “May I see your identification again please?”
Amy crossed her fingers at her sides and prayed the hotel hadn’t botched the Clarkes’ reservation.
Carrie was already walking on thin ice with her parents, after changing all their intended wedding plans.
And, while Mrs. Clarke was a nice lady most of the time, she was getting a bit persnickety about having been overruled.
“Okay.” The man nodded. “My apologies. Just one more second to confirm. Yes. All done.” He retrieved the earlier keys and quickly issued new ones. “Now we have it straight. You are in the Iliani Suite on the tenth floor. And again my apologies.”
“We should have done this at home. The Fairmont has wonderful banquet facilities. All the family could have attended—”
“Christine, … we’re not going there again.” Carrie’s dad set his hand on the small of his wife’s back and nudged her toward the elevators. “Let’s go lie down for a bit and wait for Carrie to call.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Clarke pulled out her phone. “Good idea. I’ll call her again.”
“No.” Mr. Clarke gently put his hand on his wife’s phone. “We’ll wait for her to call us. Let’s go. I need to put my feet up.”
“Oh, right. Of course.” She turned her head and looked at Amy over her shoulder. “Nice to see you again, dear.”
Amy waved at the woman. “Nice to see you too.” She didn’t want to imagine what her own mother would be like when it came time to put together Amy’s wedding.
Not that she had plans to get married anytime soon.
Her gaze drifted to where Ray stood at the bar, his towel slung over his shoulder.
The man really was impressive without a shirt.
When Ray had said he was between jobs, she hadn’t thought much of it.
She knew a lot of people, especially some of her friends with popular degrees, who had a hard time finding a good job.
But Ray had gone on to explain that he’d left several jobs by choice because of …
what? Boredom? It had taken all her social decorum to hide her disappointment and chatter on about her plans, as though talking about the weather.
The man pushed buttons she hadn’t known she had. From her first glance there’d been a jolt of electricity between them. Maybe not love at first sight but something. And when she’d watched him, fully clothed, soaking wet, breathing life into the drowning boy, a heartstring had snapped.
What business was it of hers that he was unemployed? Didn’t have a plan? So what if he was one of those dreamers who was never happy with their lot in life? This was just a vacation. A single weekend. None of this mattered.
Right. And the moon was made of green cheese. It mattered to her. She might wish it didn’t, but it did. No matter how much she wanted to organize and compartmentalize everything happening between her and Ray, as though she were rearranging her bedroom closet, it wasn’t going to happen.
She walked toward the bar, her heart fluttering in her chest. Maybe it didn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe, like when she had dived after Ray in the water, she should just brush away her concerns and jump in.
“Hi.” She sidled up to him. “Where do you want to sit?”
Ray slowly scanned her face, as if he were trying to memorize every detail, then took a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and slapped it on the bar. “On second thought I’m wiped.” He pushed to his feet, his drink untouched. “I should head back to my room. Have a nice time tonight.”