Her Perfect Getaway (2 page)

A smile crimped the corners of his
mouth. “Haven’t quite lost that accent, have I? Yeah, but my folks
moved here when I was a teenager when my mom got
sponsored.”

“Sponsored? You mean to be a
citizen?”

“I mean to be a professional
surfer.”

She leaned forward, fascinated.
“Your mom’s a professional surfer?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Well, she
was, for a couple of years. A big deal, too, considering she was in
her early thirties and beating out these teen-agers.”

“Maybe she should be the one giving
us surfing lessons.”

Something flickered across his
face. “That would be nice.”

Bailey stole his attention then,
asking more questions about the food, and a man took the stage to
announce the beginning of the entertainment. Girls in giant
headdresses and long grass skirts stepped onto the stage from
behind it, and from the other side of the stage, a band started
playing. The girls moved slowly, sinuously, hands graceful, backs
straight as they moved. The man with the microphone stood near the
band and explained the story the young women told with their
movements.

“We should totally take hula
lessons while we’re here!” Joslyn exclaimed, grabbing Elizabeth’s
hand across the table. “Sully, can we?”

“Sure, I know some ladies who give
lessons.”

Then the tempo of the music
increased, as did the speed of the young women’s hips, whipping in
movements so frantic they became a blur.

“I cannot do that,” Bailey
proclaimed.

“I totally want to,” Haven said.
“God, Eric’s head might pop off if I could do that.”

“Is that a good thing?” Elizabeth
teased.

“That’s why it was banned by
Christian missionaries,” Sullivan said. “Too
suggestive.”

After what seemed like an
incredibly long time for such speed, the women stepped back and
young men moved to the front of the stage—very buff young men
wearing pretty much only a loin cloth and long grass decorations
around each calf.

Beside her, Bailey hooted her
appreciation as the young men began to dance, their movements more
aggressive than the girls, bare feet stomping in time to the music.
The synchronization was beautiful, as was the bare male flesh.
Elizabeth grew warm and itchy. She redirected her thoughts from
sexual to analytical.

A couple of the dancers were blond,
and fully half were not native Hawaiians.

“I don’t know why I thought they’d
all be native,” she said to Sullivan.

“A lot of these kids are native.
They may be white, but their families have lived here for
generations. And they’re as interested in the history and culture
as the kids whose families have lived here for
centuries.”

The young men exited the stage, to
Bailey’s dismay, and the girls danced again. Around them, food and
drinks continued to flow as the desserts were brought
out.

And then their attention was
brought back to the stage as two men ran out, dressed in only
longer loin cloths and grass bands around their calves and carrying
torches. They engaged in a mock battle, using the torches as swords
that they ducked and leapt over the flaming ends. Then they stood
back and tossed the torches toward each other, making them spin
through the air. Two more men joined them and the four faced the
audience, twirling the torches around their bodies and between
their legs. Sullivan winced exaggeratedly, and Elizabeth laughed.
The men lowered the fiery ends to their mouths. Then, in
synchronization, they touched the fire and the opposite end of the
torch, setting it alight as well. They swirled the sticks faster
and faster, until the flames made a perfect circle in the air in
front of them. The crowd went crazy when two men crouched and the
other two stood on their thighs, and they spun them, one on top of
the other. Flashes went off all around them, and Elizabeth found
herself holding her breath.

Finally the two leapt down and the
four spun their torches side by side before ending the performance
with a flourish. The crowd stood, applauding, and the stage
cleared. Conversation and service resumed.

“Hey, Mr. Sullivan!”

A youthful voice dragged
Elizabeth’s attention from some coconut concoction in front of her,
and she looked up to see a group of dancers—male and
female—approach. Sullivan stood, smiling, something in his posture
changing as the young people encircled him. Bailey made a soft
whimpering sound when she realized most were teenagers.

“Josh,” he greeted one young man,
shaking his hand. “How’s your summer going?”

“Pretty good. Not as much surfing
since we’re working, but it’s all good.”

“Got everything you need to start
at university?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Mom’s
taking care of that.”

“You need anything, let me
know.”

“Hey, it was good enough that you
helped us get this job.”

“Yeah, well, you guys know what
you’re doing up there. You looked good.” He tapped one girl’s
headpiece teasingly. “What about you, Leilani? Looking at those
scholarship applications?”

She made a face. “I’m going to HCC
to get my basics, then I’ll start worrying about that.”

“Don’t put it off too
long.”

Elizabeth was diverted from her
blatant eavesdropping by Haven’s need to find the restroom. When
the women returned, the kids were gone and Sullivan was nursing his
second beer. She hadn’t realized, but while she and her friends had
been indulging, he’d been holding back.

“So are you a guidance counselor in
your spare time?” she asked, sliding into her seat beside
him.

He winked and lifted his beer to
his lips. “History teacher.”

She stared as he took a long
drink.

“What?” he asked, setting the
bottle down. “Surprised?”

“Well, yeah. I thought you were a
tour guide.”

“I am, and a good one, in the
summer months. The rest of the time I teach Hawaiian history at the
high school south of the city.”

“And help kids get jobs and
scholarships?”

“If they need the help. Kids who
are worried about the future aren’t going to care much about the
past.”

“They seem to like you.”

“That’s important, too.” He took
another drink. “You don’t have to look so shocked.”

She shook her head. She wasn’t,
just mad at herself for her own preconceived notions. “Haven’s an
elementary principal.”

He turned his gaze to the slender
young woman with the pixie haircut. “None of my principals ever
looked like that.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Mine,
either.”

He turned back to her. “What do you
do?”

“My father and I own a production
company. We do local commercials and small video productions. One
of our big projects is a TV show about horse training that airs on
a cable network. It’s really a lot of fun.”

“Do you like horses,
then?”

She smiled. “Not in particular, but
it’s a challenge, and I like those.”

He considered her a moment, then
nodded his head toward the dwindling crowd. “You ladies about ready
to head out? I’m thinking it’s been a long day for you.”

It had been, a twelve-hour flight,
a four hour time difference. They shuffled toward the van, and this
time, Elizabeth didn’t even try to get into the back seat this
time, instead taking her spot in the passenger seat.

***

He dropped them off in the
horseshoe drive in front of their hotel after arranging to pick
them up for brunch.

“You like him,” Bailey observed as
they rode the elevator up to their adjacent rooms.

“Who?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sully.”

“He’s our tour guide.”

“Duh. But you like him. He’s
handsome, he’s got an accent, he’s loved by his students. What’s
not to like?”

“I could never like anyone who goes
by ‘Sully,’” Elizabeth said.

“True,” Bailey replied, watching
her. “But you do. That’s why you’d rather have surfing lessons than
hula lessons.”

There had been a brief debate in
the car, with hula lessons winning because Haven was the bride and
this was her trip.

“He’ll have to touch you for the
surfing lessons.”

Damn Bailey for always seeing too
much. Elizabeth had considered that.

“When am I going to have another
chance for surfing lessons, is my point,” Elizabeth protested. “Not
like there’s a lot of surfing on the Texas coast.”

“Or hula dancing for that
matter.”

“I don’t have anyone to seduce
with my hip wiggling.”

“Maybe you should try to seduce
Sully.”

Elizabeth stared at her friend.
“Are you nuts?”

“He’s hot, and when was the last
time you had a man in your bed?”

Elizabeth didn’t want to think in
terms of months. And months. “If you like him so much, why don’t
you seduce him?”

Bailey shook her head. “I’m not out
for a fling. The next man who comes to my bed is not going to leave
it.”

“What makes you think I don’t want
the same thing?”

Bailey looped her arm through
Elizabeth’s. “I know you do, eventually. But right now love isn’t
your priority. Just, maybe for this vacation, sex should be. I bet
he’d be really good at it.”

Elizabeth had had too many Blue
Hawaiians to stop herself from imagining Sully in her bed, all that
lean, muscular grace. He might even be fun. But—“I am not screaming
out the name ‘Sully’ when I come.”

“I’m sure he’d be okay with
‘Jesus,’ or a reasonable replacement,” Bailey teased as the
elevator doors slid open.

Elizabeth wished she didn’t have
that image in her head, of Sullivan over her, driving into her,
body slick with sweat, as she turned into her room.

***

Elizabeth was awake on Texas time
the next morning, before sunrise. For a moment, she considered
firing up her tablet and checking her email, contacting her father.
Instead, she slipped out onto the balcony to watch the lightening
sky on the water beyond the palm trees. Suddenly she didn’t want to
be above the scene, but in it. Feeling like a kid sneaking away
from her obligations, she dressed quickly in shorts and a camisole,
slid her feet in sandals, twisted her hair at the back of her head
and secured it in a clip, pocketed her room key and slipped out of
her room, tablet forgotten.

The beach was a little farther than
she expected, but she reached the sand in time to see the sun
breach the horizon. Brilliant colors streaked the sky and reflected
on the water in front of her. Only when the sun had risen higher
and the colors dissolved did she notice the people sitting on
surfboards in the water. Like her, once the breath-taking sight of
the sunrise had vanished, they began to move, paddling farther out
to catch the swells that rolled toward shore.

She sank to the sand and wrapped
her arms around her knees, watching, admiring the grace as surfer
after surfer hopped to his or her feet and carved a path through
the water, riding the force of the tumbling water. It looked like
so much fun, something she hadn’t had in…she couldn’t remember
when. Everything had a root in making the business successful. She
couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something not related to
work. So she relaxed on the sand and watched.

Some surfers wore bathing suits,
other short wetsuits. Some were clearly more experienced than
others, steering around others surfers with a mere shift of their
weight on the board. One in particular drew her attention, a lean
man with slicked back hair, water streaming down his bare chest,
his board shorts riding low on his hips, his stance at once alert
and relaxed as he moved through the water. She caught her breath as
he paddled, ready for one of the taller waves that rolled toward
him, as he pounced to his feet just below the crest of the wave,
maneuvering his body and board up and down the height of the swell
and riding the length until the wave disappeared.

His momentum carried him forward
onto the beach, and Elizabeth’s breath caught in
recognition.

Sullivan pushed his hair away from
his face and grinned. “See that?”

She saw every bit of that, long
legs, broad chest covered with a soft-looking layer of curly hair.
A tattoo of a hibiscus was etched on his upper right
shoulder.

But she was pretty sure that wasn’t
what he was talking about. “You make it look
effortless.”

He jammed the end of his board in
the sand and dropped to sit beside her. “Mom had me out on a board
practically before I could walk.” He twisted to look at her. “Want
to give it a shot?”

“I’m not dressed.”

“I can wait. Go
change.”

She thought about what Bailey had
said, about feeling his hands on her, and suddenly the thought
terrified her. She hadn’t had sex in a long time, and the longing
he sent through her was frightening. His scent swirled around her,
and his water-cooled arm brushed hers. Her nipples tightened at
that simple contact and suddenly it wasn’t enough.