Chapter Seven
Their expanded group—which now included Amy, Doug, and Emily—stood clumped together, like a football huddle, just inside the entrance to the Polynesian Cultural Center. Out of earshot of the others, Tish collared Ray. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Visit the Tongan village?” Ray pretended to study his map. “We could check out Samoa first, if you prefer.”
“You know what I mean.” His sister fisted her hands at her sides, as she had when she was eight and had had enough of him teasing her. “I’ve seen the way you and Amy look at each other. You’re just asking for trouble.”
He looked into her stubborn blue eyes. “Hey, I’m the big brother. But did I ever tell you, back home, who you should and shouldn’t date?”
“No, because I never dated back home. If you had known Brady when I first met him, you would have—” She bit her lip.
“I would have what?”
“Never mind.”
“I would have what?”
Tish sighed. “You would have worried about me. Like I’m worried about you.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “What’s wrong with Amy? She’s sweet, smart, beautiful—”
“There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s perfect. I wish you’d dated someone like her in high school instead of those tramps who fell all over you.”
“It wasn’t me. It was the football uniform.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “So, if you like Amy, then what’s the problem?”
“You know what the problem is, Ray. She lives in San Francisco. Do you plan on flying halfway across the country every other weekend or so to see your girlfriend?”
Girlfriend? “Don’t you think you’re rushing things? I really only met her today.”
“Exactly.”
“And, even if we lived two miles from each other, the odds of this going anywhere are slim. She’s getting her master’s degree. She has a plan for her life. I just left my job, and I still don’t know what the hell I want to be when I grow up.” Blast. Their odds just went from slim to none.
“So this is just a casual … whatever it is?”
“Mmm-hmm.” At least that made sense. Whereas nothing else about his feelings for Amy did. When he looked at her, when she gazed up at him, he wanted to drink in her eyes and heart and soul.
“Hey, guys, we’ve decided to start with the Samoan village.” Courtney bounded over to them. “The show starts in ten minutes.”
They crowded onto bleachers to watch a man, wearing little more than a loincloth, scramble up a tree and knock down a coconut, then open it using only a small rock and his bare hands.
Coconut milk poured out. The demonstrator allowed some of the tourists in the front row to sample it, while the narrator explained that, in Samoa, it was the men’s duty to prepare the food.
“I think I might like living in Samoa,” Amy leaned forward and whispered near Ray’s ear. Rising from the bench behind him, she stepped over the wooden plank to squeeze into the small space beside him.
He scooted closer to Tish to make more room. “You don’t like to cook?”
“Not every day.” She slid the sunglasses sitting atop her head down over her eyes. “I do have a few specialties I enjoy making.”
“Is your mom’s lasagna one of them?”
She shrugged. “It is, but Mom’s is still better.
Maybe one of these days—” Amy stopped midsentence.
She had to quit thinking as if this were a budding relationship.
She wouldn’t be cooking for him. She wouldn’t be seeing him again after Hawaii.
And, regardless of how good he looked wearing that hotel towel, it wasn’t Amy’s nature to do casual flings.
Yet they sat side by side during the Rainbows of Paradise Pageant, where colorful canoe floats from all the neighboring islands glided past the viewing stand as dancers performed for the tourists’ amusement.
And they walked silently together through the Fiji exhibit, featuring massive clubs and weapons native to the culture, their hands swinging, fingers laced.
Maybe they didn’t speak because they’d already run out of things to say.
Or maybe because Doug and Emily were rarely more than a few chaperoning feet behind or in front of them.
Or maybe just that words were not needed, a soundless connection radiating between them.
In the Tahitian village, they watched men and boys, and some women, compete in a spear throw. “You up for that?” Doug asked Ray.
Ray met her brother’s challenge. “I’m up for anything.”
A pissing contest, Amy thought, but she was too curious to stop them.
The men lined up and practiced hefting their spears, the goal to hit a coconut. Doug had his navy background in his favor, but his vision loss worked against him. After three attempts and three near-misses, he handed his spear back to the Tahitian moderator.
When Ray sliced the coconut in half with his first throw, Amy was tempted to cheer but stifled her cry in her throat. It was only a game anyway. It wasn’t as if the two men were contending to win her favor.
At the Hawaii exhibit, women wearing wreaths of leaves as necklaces, bracelets, anklets, and headdresses demonstrated the movements of the hula dance, while the narrator explained that the hand motions told a story.
The music was enchanting, seducing, and Amy’s body swayed involuntarily.
When the audience was invited onto the small stage to participate, she was the first to jump out of her seat. “Come on, Emily.”
“Sure, why not?” Her soon-to-be-sister-in-law followed Amy’s lead.
Losing herself in the dance, Amy almost forgot where she was and who she was with. When she looked up, she noticed Doug and Ray sitting together, watching the dancing, exchanging words every so often. Whatever rivalry may have existed during the spear throw seemed to have dissipated.
“You’re up.” Emily reached into the stands and grabbed Doug’s hand, hauling him onstage.
Watching him make a good-natured fool of himself encouraged Amy to pull Ray onstage as well.
“I have no rhythm,” he protested, but, in short order, he gravitated next to Amy, swinging his hips as if he were negotiating a hula hoop.
“You go, Towel Guy,” Amy encouraged in a quiet voice.
But Emily had heard her. “Towel Guy? Oh, this is one story I’ve got to hear.”
Ray had heard about Hawaiian luaus, but he hadn’t expected to see two men actually carry a roasted pig across the stage. Nor had he expected the fire dance to be so … hot. Even from his seat, he could feel the heat from the flaming torches on his face.
The poi and other Hawaiian foods at the buffet tasted like nothing he was used to, or cared to get used to, but the entertainment was extraordinary, and the covered outdoor venue, surrounded by lush gardens and waterfalls, would have been wonderfully romantic—had there been a beautiful woman sitting beside him.
He craned his neck to find Amy and her party, and spotted them at one of the front tables at the other side of the semicircular arena. The two parties had been separated at the entrance and directed to their reserved seats.
“Drew’s in port!” Courtney squealed over the quiet conversations of the other diners. She tapped hurriedly on her phone. “His ship just dropped anchor.”
“That’s great,” Tish said. “Maybe he’ll be at the hotel when we get back tonight.”
“Oh, no way.” Courtney spoke in a quieter tone but just barely. “They won’t let anybody off the ship until tomorrow. But he and his groomsmen will be here in time for the bachelor party, and …” Her brows wiggled wickedly.
Ray could guess what thoughts were going through the bride’s mind.
He stood so he could get a better view of Amy, but she was chatting animatedly with Doug and Emily, and didn’t even look up.
Dusk turned into darkness. When the show ended, and the diners were ushered to the exit, Ray was unbelievably eager to return to that damned bus.
Waiting for him outside the theater, Amy looked radiant in the light of the tiki torches, a lei of fresh fragrant flowers around her neck. Doug and Emily were already heading down the path to the bus, and Courtney, Matt, and Lisa followed suit.
“I’m running into the gift shop for a couple of souvenirs,” Tish said, breaking away from the group. She spoke to Ray and Amy. “Don’t let the bus leave without me.”
Amy’s gaze followed his sister’s departing figure. “That first time I saw you, in the lobby,” she said, “I thought Tish was your wife.”
“And I thought Doug was your husband.”
“Seriously? You couldn’t tell by the way I looked at you that I’m single?”
“Well, I was hoping, but you could have just been squinting from the sun. Then Doug arrived, and you jumped into his arms …”
“You saw that? You were busy saving that boy.”
Ray should have been embarrassed to admit it, but he wasn’t. “Before I spotted the boy, I looked back at you to try to catch your eye. But you were all over Doug. And, by the time I got the kid out of the water and had walked back up the beach, the two of you were gone.”
“Wait. If you thought Doug and I were a couple, why were you still checking me out on the terrace?”
Now he did blush, feeling the heat spread from ear to ear. “Damned if I know.”
She smiled. “Doug fell in love with Emily at first sight. And he doesn’t know I know this, but they slept together the same night.” Suddenly Amy’s cheeks turned as red as Ray was sure his were. “I mean, … that is, I didn’t mean that …”
“I don’t believe in love at first sight,” Ray said.
Her face resumed its normal color, presumably in relief, but he also thought he detected a sliver of disappointment in her eyes.
“On the other hand …” He stepped forward to take her in his arms, but she was already moving into them. Like one of those slow-motion commercials, her mouth glided toward his. Their lips met. Ray tasted sugar and sweetness and the lingering flavor of her chocolate dessert.
He pulled her closer, inhaling her soft scent, his body hardening as hers molded to his. Ray longed to explore her mouth but held back. He didn’t want to rush, didn’t want to spoil this moment of sweet surrender. His head clouded, as if he were under a magic spell, and he wanted it to last.
“You guys are still here?” Tish’s voice interrupted the spell, and Amy sprang from his arms. “Oh, my God, the bus may have left by now!”
It hadn’t, but the looks they received from the sleepy, anxious-to-get-back-to-the-hotel passengers were not welcoming.
Ray settled Amy into the inside seat so she could snooze against the window if she wanted on the two-hour ride back to Waikiki.
She fell asleep almost immediately but with her head against his shoulder, her tousled hair spilling over his chest.