Chapter Eighteen #2
But Everett didn’t miss the flicker in the man’s eyes—annoyance sliding under professionalism like a current beneath calm water. Good. Everett was done with men who only told him what he wanted to hear. Matthew needed to reveal himself in pieces, and this was the first.
“Anything else?” Everett asked.
“Yes. One more thing. Once you leave after opening, I’ll need full discretion. Authority can’t be split between two leaders. The hotel will need one voice. You’ve done well with the team, but it will be my job to keep things running smoothly.”
He wanted to push back, but swallowed his objection. “Agreed. One voice.”
He let the words hang, just long enough for Matthew to wonder who that voice would belong to. Then Everett smiled—the steady, polite, corporate smile he hadn’t used in weeks.
“Write the proposal,” he said calmly. “We’ll talk Monday.”
Matthew rose. “Enjoy your weekend, Everett.”
“You, too.”
The door clicked shut.
Everett rested back in his chair, letting the silence settle. His hands were steady, his pulse calm. He should have felt threatened. Challenged.
Instead, he felt something else entirely.
A shift.
Delegating hadn’t killed him. Allowing someone else to own decisions hadn’t ruined his hotel. And the world didn’t collapse when he didn’t micromanage.
He checked the time. Just enough to make the beach party.
Everett had to start somewhere to build back trust with his daughter. That meant getting to the beach on time.
He changed in the bathroom. Then he took the elevator and walked outside.
The sky was a cloudless, electric blue. The palm fronds bent and danced in the tropical breeze. The sun burned bright and hot on his skin, the same way he felt when Rowan was in his arms. A grin tugged at his mouth. He’d be early.
For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t chasing perfection.
He was chasing time.
And tonight, he knew exactly where he wanted to spend it.
The beach behind the shop glowed under strings of bulbs.
Someone had dragged out the speakers. Slack-key guitar hummed low, mixed with talk and laughter.
A grill threw up sweet smoke. Paper plates bent under kalbi ribs, macaroni salad, pineapple that dripped down wrists.
Kids ran in crooked lines, sandy feet slapping.
Dogs made slow loops, noses down. The air tasted like salt and soy.
Rowan moved through it all with a stack of napkins tucked under her arm.
Her tank stuck to the small of her back.
She kept an eye on the teenagers pretending not to hover near the dessert table and the aunties policing the tongs.
She felt the shift in the air—the subtle prickle that always announced Everett Hale before his shadow even touched the sand.
She tried to keep cool but found herself automatically turning to seek him out.
He stood a few feet away as Kelsey dashed off to join Brie and the others.
The sharp short-sleeved polo was a deep blue with Purity stitched on the upper right pocket.
Khaki shorts and boat shoes completed the business casual look.
Someone handed him a drink in a plastic cup shaped like a pineapple. He accepted it like it might explode.
Why did she find his reaction suddenly charming?
He caught her staring and lifted the cup slightly in an awkward toast. “Aloha,” he said, voice deeper than usual.
Rowan bit back a smile. He pronounced it like he was ordering a corporate merger. “Hey,” she said casually, leaning against the table. “I’m glad you made it.”
“Me, too.”
The sizzle of attraction snapped in the air. His gaze roved over her body, reminding her of all the places he’d enjoyed. Keeping their relationship a secret for now gave her a thrill, and the hungry look on his face told her he felt the same. “I like your pineapple.”
He choked out a laugh. “If we were alone, I’d punish you for that remark.”
Delight flowed through her. “Sounds hot.” His warning glance only made it worse. “Did you say hello to Tino and Howie?”
Everett nodded. “They introduced me to a few of the aunties, and I used the phrase you taught me. O wau he honu pohā.”
Uh-oh. She couldn’t help teasing him when he’d asked her for a Hawaiian phrase to greet her friends. Her father always told her she had an evil sense of humor. “Good for you! I’m sure they were impressed.”
His brows knit. “The aunties smiled politely but Tino and Howie laughed so hard they walked away.”
Rowan schooled her expression into the most innocent look she possessed—which wasn’t very innocent at all. “Weird. Maybe you said it wrong?”
“Rowan.” Just her name, low and suspicious.
Her head tilted. “Yes?”
“What exactly did I say? Because judging by their reactions, it wasn’t ‘How are you?’”
She almost cackled. “Oh, it’s close. Very close.”
“Rowan.”
God, she loved the way he said her name when he was annoyed—like the world had betrayed him personally and she was the ringleader. Why was it so sexy? She leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “You told them, ‘I am a bloated sea turtle.’”
His eyes widened just enough to make her half laugh. “What!”
“It’s a term of endearment,” she lied smoothly, biting her lip to hold back a grin. “Turtles are treasured here.”
Everett stared at her like he was weighing whether homicide was warranted in this context. “So, I walked around greeting your people by announcing I’m . . . bloated.”
“And a turtle,” she added helpfully.
He dragged a hand over his face. “Unbelievable. Tino and Howie are going to torture me now.”
“Relax, Suit. They probably assumed you were just trying too hard. Happens to a lot of tourists.”
“I’m not a tourist.”
“You are tonight.” She lifted her drink and clinked his pineapple cup. “Welcome to the party.”
He stepped closer. Her pulse hammered with anticipation. “You realize I’ll get you back for this.”
Damned if a giggle didn’t almost burst out. “You can try.”
Something flashed in his eyes—something darker that made her stomach do a little dip. His gaze dropped to her mouth, brief but unmistakable. His voice reached her ears in a silky pitch. “Challenge accepted.”
Before she could answer, a chorus of aunties called her name, waving her over to help with the poke bowls. Rowan forced herself to step away, though her body protested with embarrassing enthusiasm.
Time to retreat.
The evening passed, and they played a bit of sexy hide-and-go-seek amid the crowd.
She watched as he chatted with different people, wincing when he got cornered by a community leader who protested the building of more hotels.
After a bit, Rowan relaxed, seeing that Everett had found a way to hold the space, and then they were shaking hands.
She wondered if Everett had invited him to visit Purity.
She wondered when she’d see it herself.
When Tino and Howie began to give her teasing looks, Rowan knew the jig was up.
Nothing in this community was a secret—especially if there was a touch of drama.
Alone, she was a subject of gossip, losing her career and father so close together.
But if they suspected a romance with her and the buttoned-up suit building a luxury hotel—one of the things they all hated for wrecking the island’s ecosystem—she was screwed.
As if her ears burned, Lea sidled over, shaking her head. “Oh yeah, don’t blame you for hitting that,” she drawled, grinning.
Rowan’s cheeks flushed. “Really? Are you sixteen again?” she asked, trying to ignore her.
Lea followed her as she finished putting out the paper goods, glancing toward the surf where Kelsey hung with Brie and the girls. “Maybe. Why are you so shy? Nothing wrong with great sex, as long as you don’t get hung up.” She snatched a grilled pineapple and shoved it in her mouth.
“I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want Kelsey to suspect.”
“I get it. But Howie said you two were making googly eyes at each other at the luau, and Tino said the suit has been showing up for surf lessons again and can’t take his gaze off you. Like he’s hungry and you’re some serious prime cut.”
Rowan threw up her hands. “Enough! All of you need to focus on your own damn lives. You should be practicing for the next comp. Or at least helping Brie get prepped for hers.”
Lea wrinkled her nose. “Chill, I am. And Brie’s ready. The real question is when are you going to be?”
“I told you I’m not ready to get on a board.” Even as she said the words, the desire bit in and held. “I’ll cheer from the sidelines.”
“Not talking about a comp. Just getting wet and having fun. Like we used to.” A shadow crossed her friend’s face, and suddenly, Rowan was connected with her like they’d been on the circuit.
“Sometimes I forget, because I want to win too badly, or score another sponsorship. I can’t remember my why.
It’s supposed to be for the ride, Ro. Things are getting harder.
Better surfers, bigger waves, more competition.
” Her dark eyes grew distant. “I can’t remember the last time I surfed for pure joy. ”
Her throat grew tight. Reflexively, Rowan reached out and squeezed her hand. Rough and calloused and nicked from an array of injuries. Pruned from the water. Familiar and comforting. “I get it. That’s what I see in Kelsey. In Brie. Chelsea. The hunger and freedom of the ride, nothing else.”
They looked out at the ocean together, watching the girls frolic and laugh.
Somehow, Brie had decided to be Kelsey’s mentor after the beach get-together.
She’d introduced Kelsey to a few more young surfers, and invited her to practice and hang with them.
Rowan wondered if it was because Kelsey wasn’t a rival, so it was easy to befriend her.
Maybe it was Kelsey’s obvious dedication to her practice, or simply her sweet disposition that softened Brie’s tough heart. The reasons didn’t matter.
Kelsey was blossoming more every day.
Everett untangled himself from his new friends and headed over. “Hi,” he said, offering his hand to Lea. “I’m Everett.”