Chapter 4
Presley tossed the bowline to the dock boy at the local marina before waving off the Coast Guard. There was nothing else they could do for her now. She raced to the stern and handed the power cord to the other dockhand. “If I can’t get power to the batteries and get the bilge pumps working, we’ll have to get her out of the water sooner than the morning.”
“That won’t be a problem,” the dockhand said. “Anything for you, Miss Presley.”
“I called my buddy Kian. They’re still at the hospital. Frank’s wife just got there. He’s been in and out of consciousness, and it’s possible they need to put him in a medical coma. The burns are pretty bad. Second and third degree.”
“Jesus.” Presley’s heart plummeted to the bottom of her gut. Fucking Vernon. Had she not had to scramble to get the damn catamaran ready, this wouldn’t have happened.
It was all her fault.
Waylen tapped his cell, illuminating the flash as he studied the instrument panel and the power box. “I doubt you’re going to get any power. This circuit board is fried.”
“She’s all plugged in, ma’am,” the dock boy called.
She flipped the switch for both engines.
Nothing. Not even a hint of them turning over.
“Shit,” she mumbled. “I won’t be able to get my team out here until tomorrow.” The bigger problem was she couldn’t afford what it would cost to get this boat back in the water and it would cost a pretty penny to put it on a trailer and haul it by road back to her marina.
“It’s all good, Miss Presley,” the dockhand said. “You’ve been real good to us over the years. Your dad too. We’ll take good care of you and your catamaran.” He smiled. “It’s late, and the roads are a little crazy because of the volcano. Might I suggest you get a room for the night. Lots of vacancies at Benny’s. Kilauea has the tourists spooked. They’ve all cleared out. But between the wind direction and the fact it was a mild eruption with little lava flow, you should be fine.”
“Thanks.” She wrung out her hair before snagging her bag, which had very little. Whenever she captained a charter, she traveled light. All she needed were a few changes of underwear, shorts, and uniform shirts.
“Benny’s?” Waylen offered his hand, helping her off the boat. “That’s a blast from the past. Of all the places the two of us could wind up together after all these years.” He waggled his brows. “Come on.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. “If memory serves me correctly, this place has a small surf shop. I need to get some dry clothes. We do that, then get a couple of rooms and find some grub. I’m starving.”
“You were always hungry.” She laughed, patting his chest. “But you can’t use the excuse you’re a growing boy anymore.”
“My waistline is expanding in ways that is not pleasant.” He shook his head. “And I’m certainly no boy.”
He pushed open the store”s door and snagged a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and a long-sleeved swim shirt. “This should do the trick, don’t you think?”
“Large?” She eyed him up and down. “Boy, have you grown.”
“That’s just mean.” He slapped his credit card on the table and paid for his items before heading out the door. “I was definitely a large when I left Big Island.”
“You’re fucking delusional if you believe that. You might have been tall, but you hadn’t filled out. Not like this.” She paused at the corner before darting across the street. Benny’s was just one block over. It wasn’t a five-star hotel. Actually, it was a motel, but it was clean and run by the nicest couple. Not to mention it had been around forever. “You’re looking real good, Waylen.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, Presley. Exactly like I remember you, feisty mouth and everything.”
“First time I heard the word fuck was when you said it, so I blame you for that.”
He pulled open the door to Benny’s lobby. Waylen had always been a gentleman, even when they were in middle school. It was one of the many things the other kids had picked on him for. What a stupid reason to bully another child. Waylen had been the kind of boy who empathized with everyone. He had the biggest heart of anyone she’d ever met. He even cared about those teenagers who made his life difficult.
“I know that’s not true.” He stepped up to the counter. “Howdy, Mr. Kincaid. How are you this evening?”
“Waylen? Waylen Brown? Is that really you?” Mr. Kincaid rubbed his tired, old eyes. “Miranda. Get out here. It’s Waylen and Presley. Together. Again. In our lobby.” He turned and stuck his head in the back office. “Honey, did you hear me?”
“We caused quite the stir the last time we were here.” She leaned against the counter.
“You mean when we got caught here?” His grin was as wide as the great state of Texas—not that she’d ever been there. The only time she’d been out of Hawaii was on her honeymoon.
Mexico.
Sun and sand.
Not much different, but she and Vernon had a good time. That first year had been filled with joy and happiness. For the first time in a long while, she thought she’d found love again. Vernon was attentive. Kind. Sweet even. They were planning for a family and a little over a year later, she found out she was pregnant. However, she miscarried right before she hit the twelve-week mark. All she had to say about that was even though that miscarriage had been emotionally and physically painful, it proved to be one of the biggest blessings that came out of her marriage. Being tied to Vernon through a child would have been the worst.
“My mother had never been more disappointed in me. My dad gave me the most uncomfortable and awkward lecture on the drive home. And your father enjoyed making me think there was a loaded shotgun behind the counter in the office.” Waylen ran his hand over his mouth. “I thought he was going to beat the crap out of me every time I saw him for the next few weeks.”
Waylen’s hair had a few gray strands, but that only made him sexier. He had deep-set lines around his eyes, and he’d definitely aged.
Again, that only made him more attractive.
But she’d recognize him anywhere.
This was her Waylen.
The one that she’d thought she’d be able to let go, but he’d lived on deep in her heart and soul.
“My parents grounded me for a week, but not because I was with you,” she said. “Or what they believed we did.”
“We did do the deed.” He laughed. “And that’s not the message that was conveyed to me.”
“They were only mad that I lied to them about where I was going. It’s not like they weren’t already worried we might be having sex.”
“We were sixteen. That’s young.”
“Holy crap.” Mrs. Kincaid came flying out of the office and clasped her face. “It’s one thing to see you, Presley. We run into you often.” She ran to the other side and pulled Presley in for a big hug. “But you.” She grabbed Waylen by the forearms. “Oh my. Look at you all grown-up.”
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Kincaid.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Any chance we can get a couple of rooms for the night?”
“Two rooms?” Mrs. Kincaid looked him up and down. “I seem to remember you booking a room using an older friend’s name. Having them check you in and then us having to deal with your parents.”
“That was a long time ago,” Presley said.
“You’re not here with that crazy ex-husband of yours, are you?” Mr. Kincaid asked. “I really don’t like that man.”
Waylen shot her a sideways glance.
“Nope. Vernon can rot in hell for all I care,” she said.
“Our sentiments exactly.” Mr. Kincaid nodded. “Why don’t we give you two adjoining rooms.” He pushed two key cards across the counter. “Rooms five and six. On the house.”
“I can’t let you do that.” Waylen pulled out his wallet and handed over a credit card.
“Don’t insult me, boy.” Mr. Kincaid waved his hand. “You two look worse for the wear. Whatever brought you here tonight, you sure look like you need a good deed.”
“Thanks. We appreciate it.” Waylen nodded, stuffing the key cards into his pocket. He lifted his cell and tapped on the screen.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Letting my buddy Kian know where I am and what room he can find me in. I’m sure he’ll show up here at some point,” he said.
“Checkout is at ten, but honestly, if you need more time, just let us know,” Mr. Kincaid said. “It’s awfully good to see you again. Both of you.”
“You as well.” Waylen took Presley by the hand and tugged her toward the door.
She glanced down at their intertwined fingers. It should feel strange. Awkward. But it was the most natural thing in the world.
They still fit.
“How about we order pizza from Stallone’s? They also deliver beer,” she said.
“You read my mind.”
“Meat lovers?” She pulled up the app on her phone.
“I like my pizza the same way I did when I was twelve, but you can get half of that veggie crap you like.”
She laughed. “I’m down for some meat.”
He audibly groaned as he pushed open the door to one of the rooms and waved his hand in. “I need to get out of these wet clothes.”
“Me too.”
“You can change in the other room or the bathroom. I’ll change out here.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She opted for the bathroom and quickly shed her shirt and shorts, hanging them over the shower bar. She rummaged through her bag and found a tank top and pair of yoga pants.
Curling her fingers around the doorknob, she yanked it open. “Shit. Sorry.”
He chuckled, hiking the shorts up over his hips. “It’s not like you’ve never seen me in my boxers.”
She swallowed, staring at scar after scar. Her father had a few from when he’d been shot, so she knew what those looked like and she counted six. Three on his stomach. Two on his thigh. One on his shoulder.
And then there were the marks snaking down his back, peeking out from under the tattoo. She had no idea what they were from, though she had a few guesses, and none of them were good.
“What a beautiful tattoo.” She closed the gap, running her fingers across the colorful sailfish that spanned from one shoulder blade to the other. “How long have you had this?” She thought better of mentioning the scars.
“I started it shortly after I graduated from the Naval Academy and finished it about two years later.”
“And this one.” She tapped the marlin on his chest.
“High school graduation. My mom was pissed.”
“Any others?”
He twisted his leg, showing off a dolphin on his right ankle and a shark on his left.
“You’ve always loved everything about the ocean.”
“That I have,” he said.
“It’s so weird being here with you.”
“I’ll be honest. I’ve thought about you since the second I landed in Hawaii. But I didn’t expect you to still be working for your folks. How are they?”
She threw herself back on the bed. Waylen had adored his dad and vice versa. So did her mom. They joked with her that one day she was going to marry Waylen. But not until they both finished their four-year degrees.
“Unfortunately, my mom passed of cancer eight years ago and my dad died of a heart attack about nine months after that.”
“Shit, Presley. I’m so sorry.” In true Waylen form, he eased onto the mattress, lifted her head, and rested it in his lap. He stroked his fingers through her hair. “I take it that’s why you’re back at Driftwood.”
“I never really left,” she admitted. “I went to college on the main island. When I finished, I came home and spent the summer like I always did, working at the marina and doing charters. I’ve always loved being on the water and my parents were getting older. It was harder for them to do it all and I couldn’t think of anything better.”
He lowered his chin. “You always wanted to travel.”
“With you.” She smiled. “That was your dream. You were going to join the Navy and see the world.”
“We often talked about me not doing that.”
She bolted upright. “No, Waylen. You talked about giving up going to the Naval Academy and pushing off joining the Navy until after college.”
“Or my bright idea of running off and getting married at eighteen and enlisting then.”
“Don’t remind me. That was a dumb idea.” She tugged at her ponytail, running her fingers through her still damp hair.
“You ended up getting married. Tell me about him.”
“Fuck no. The only thing you need to know about that prick is he’s the biggest mistake I ever made.”
“I’ve got one of those. Her name is Elena and all I’ve got to say is thank God she remarried so I don’t have to pay alimony anymore,” he said. “I’ve seriously got to know what your ex-husband thought of you naming one of your boats after me.”
Knock. Knock.
“Saved by pizza.” She stood.
He grabbed her wrist. “Oh no, you’re not.” He opened the door, took the takeout and the beer, and set it on the table. “No food for you until you answer the question.”
“It’s a sore subject and when I first did it, I just told him it was a name I liked.”
“It’s a fucking male name. Boats are feminine.” He waggled his finger. “And if you start some bullshit about how it could be either, I’ll pin you down and tickle you until you cry. I’ve done it before; I’ll do it again.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Well, it’s true. It could be a girl’s name.”
“Give me one example of a woman with my name.”
“I can’t think of one off the top of my head. But it’s possible.”
“When pigs fly.” He cracked open a beer and handed it to her. “I don’t know if I’m flattered or mortified.”
“If you don’t take that as a compliment, there’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“If you ask my ex-wife, there’s a lot wrong with me.” He opened the box, pulled out a slice, and stuffed half of it in his mouth before he stretched out on the bed. “Starting with the fact I kept all the letters you ever wrote me and she wasn’t too pleased when she found them.”
“Excuse me? How on earth did you explain keeping them?”
Waylen took a long, slow draw from his beverage. It took forever for him to finish. It was as if he was trying to finish the drink, ignore the question, or both. “I told her the truth.”
“Oh, this should be good.”
“All your stuff was in a box with things from Big Island, so it wasn’t just your things. I had some of the music I wrote.”
“Sweet Jesus.” Presley smacked her hand on her forehead. “Please tell me you wrote about other girls?”
“I can’t say that I’ve written anything since I left Big Island.”
“I don’t know what to say about that.”
He shrugged. “I tried to express how much Big Island meant because of my dad. My memories here with him and the fact that I’m the one who found him dead. How it messed with me and how long it took me to move through all the emotions that come with grief.”
“I’m sorry. While I understand I was the one holding your hand through all of that, my letters while you lived in Maryland, or your first year at the Naval Academy, have nothing to do with your father’s death.”
“That’s pretty much what she said and that’s when I told her that you were the first girl I’d ever been with. My first love. And I am my mother’s son. A sentimental sap who doesn’t easily part with certain things. She told me if our marriage was going to work, I needed to burn them. I refused.”
“My letters were a work of art that should be cherished. Always.” She took a slice and boldly climbed in next to Waylen, crossing her ankles. “But I can understand where your ex-wife would have an issue with your unwillingness to part with them. Did you divorce right after that?”
“Our relationship was bad already. She wanted things from me that I wasn’t capable of, like not being a SEAL. I worked too hard to get there and I wasn’t giving that up.” He glanced at the sky. “I realized she went into our marriage with the idea she could mold or train me into the kind of man she thought I should be, instead of loving me for who I was. When I got assigned to a new base, I told her it was best if we parted ways. I believe her last words to me were to go find my little slut, meaning you.”
“I’ve been called worse.” She laughed. “My ex-husband thinks I’m classless.”
“He’s a dick.” Waylen raised his beer.
“Too bad his penis is the size of my pinky.”
Waylen coughed, spewing half his sip across the room. “I hope you weren’t going around saying shit like that about me when you dumped my ass.”
“Seriously, that’s how you’re going to play this? Because I didn’t break up with you. I simply suggested that we both focus on our studies.”
“And then you stopped writing.”
“So did you.”
“I got the impression that’s what you wanted,” he said. “I have the letter if you want me to find it and read it to you.”
“Ouch, that hurt.” She narrowed her stare. “After two and a half years, I didn’t want to be the girl who held you back.” She covered his mouth with her hand. She’d waited twenty-three years to say some of this and while she had no intention of being completely honest at this point, she would give him a healthy dose of some of it. “The few times we talked, I could hear how much you loved the Academy. How you thrived in the environment and how honored and proud you knew your dad would have been.”
“All of that is true. But that doesn’t mean I wanted to stop?—”
“I’m not saying that’s what I wanted either. But circumstances as they were, it was what was best for both of us.”
He burst out laughing.
“I don’t know what the hell is so funny.”
“You’re divorced. You named a fucking boat after me. We’re sitting in a motel room, where we both lost our virginity to one another. You ordered my favorite pizza instead of that stupid veggie shit you like and were always trying to push on me. You’re trying like hell not to rip my clothes off. Come on, Presley. You’re still hung up on me.”
She poked him dead center on his chest. “I’m not the one who kept love letters from some teenage girl from twenty-three fucking years ago and let my spouse read them. And I didn’t name the boat after you. I named it after my cat.”
“There is a cat named Waylen?”
She shrugged. “I like the name. What’s wrong with that?”
“Oh, let me count the ways.” He sighed. “Anything else about me you’re hanging on to? Like, is my name tattooed on your body?”
She cringed. “No.”
“Jesus. Is it?”
“I swear to God, it’s not.”
“What the hell did you do, Presley? Show me.” He plucked the beer from her hands and glared. “Don’t make me go looking.”
“Fine.” She lifted her shirt and rolled down her pants, exposing her hip and a heart tattoo with the date of their first time together.
He leaned closer, squinting. “We have to be two of the most pathetic people on this planet.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“I am.” He handed her beer back. “I never once stopped thinking about you.”
“That’s nice to hear.” She took a long swig of her beer. “I suppose first loves are always the ones you never forget. But maybe that’s why they are firsts and not lasts.”
“I don’t know. According to my ex-wife, I never loved her and you know what? I think she’s right about that. I believe I was in love with the idea of her, but never her.”
“That’s just cruel.”
“I guess it is,” he said. “What about you and this Vernon guy?”
“He had me snowed, the fucking con artist.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”
“No. That wouldn’t be ladylike.” She held his stare with her heart hammering in her throat. “Then again, neither is this.” Straddling him, she cupped his face and pressed her mouth over his, slipping her tongue between his lips.
God, he tasted so good. It was like she’d found her own private meal in heaven.
His fingers dug into her thighs as he deepened the kiss.
Her lungs filled with thick anticipation. This wasn’t a trip down memory lane. A reliving of the past.
This wasn’t the boy she’d fallen in love with when she’d been a teenager. He was a man now. A man who’d seen the world. Been married. Divorced. And Lord only knew what else.
No matter how much of the Waylen she knew she could see in his eyes, he’d changed.
And so had she.
She wasn’t the same young girl who dreamed about getting off Big Island and seeing what the rest of the world had to offer. She knew how good she had it right where she’d lived her entire life.
His touch was hauntingly familiar and yet so new and different. His kisses were as sweet as they’d ever been. But his passion was more intense. Wild.
And definitely more wicked.
His ability to remove her clothes without fumbling was impressive.
She surrendered to him, letting go of any lingering doubts or reservations. The past was just that—the past. What mattered now was the blazing fire between them, igniting with every touch and every kiss. Their bodies moved together in a dance of desire, a symphony of longing that had been with her for years.
As her skin met his, every nerve ending came alive, sending shivers down her spine. The way he explored her body with such reverence and hunger made her feel like she was the only woman in the world. In that moment, nothing else existed but the two of them, lost in a timeless embrace.
And as they reached the peak of their passion, she knew that this wasn”t just a fleeting moment of reunion. It was a reawakening of something deep and primal that had always been between them, waiting to be unleashed.
The deep love she’d always had for him matured and evolved, weathered by time and distance but stronger than ever. And as they lay intertwined in each other”s arms, she knew that the connection they shared transcended the boundaries of age, experience, and the past.
The world around them faded into a blur, as if they were the only two souls on earth. The room seemed to shrink and the bed expanded, becoming a place of endless possibilities.
Their eyes locked once more, revealing the depths of their newfound passion. But something else lingered in his gaze. Confusion. A question. Perhaps concern or even doubt. He pulled her closer. “This is probably not the right moment to mention this, but are you on birth control?”
“Shit,” she mumbled. “No, and that’s something we should have discussed before you ripped my clothes off.”
“It’s always amazed me the selective memory you have because you started this.” He kissed her nose. “Not that I’m complaining.”
She wrapped her arms around his strong body, nuzzling her face into his neck. “I’m almost forty. This isn’t the kind of mistake I should be making at my age.”
“We can’t go back and correct it, so we’ll have to deal with it. There’s nothing else we can do right at this moment.” He reached behind him, flicked off the light, and tugged the covers over their naked bodies. “We’re both tired. It’s late. Let’s discuss it in the morning.”
“Easy for you to say. If the sperm does meet the egg, it’s not happening inside your body.”
He pressed his mouth against the top of her head and laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“I’m not laughing at the situation, but the verbiage you chose. I mean, really. I got detention at least half a dozen times for cracking up over the things that came out of your mouth.” He cupped her face, pressing his warm lips over hers. “I get it. I’m not thrilled with my level of disrespect because I was too busy enjoying myself. But that doesn’t change that at two in the morning, we can’t do a damn thing about it. Let’s get a few hours of sleep, and we can go from there. It’s not like we’re sixteen and our parents are going to come busting through that door.”
“That was so embarrassing.”
“For everyone.”
She snuggled in, resting her head on his chest, draping her arm and leg across his body.
A perfect fit.
And yet, it was all going to end.
Again.