Page 7

“Aloha, makamaka!” he greeted Dillon, his round face lighting with a Cheshire grin. “Back so soon?” His eyes flicked to me as we passed into the cramped dining room.

Dillon led the way toward a curtain of fake flowers, holding them aside to allow me to step onto a small lanai while keeping up an easy banter with the chatty man. I could feel her gaze on me, waiting for my reaction.

She’d said the view was worth the drive, and I imagined pretty much every inch of the landscape running alongside the highway would fit that bill—but this was something different.Beyond the pair of humidity-dampened tables, the expanse of a horseshoe bay extended below the cliffside. The black sand of the shore had turned almost iridescent in the last rays of the amber sun, and the turquoise water looked as if it had caught fire, haloed in the scattering hues of virescent foliage surrounding the tranquil cove.

The entirety of the picturesque scene was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking.

Catching my expression, the corners of her mouth twitched in the hint of a smile, before she returned her attention to the animated Hawaiian.

There was no menu. I was given the choice of vegetarian or non-vegetarian—I played it safe with vegetarian—and when, at last, the man was on his way to the kitchen, she turned to me and propped her elbows on the table.

“Worth it?” She tilted her chin in the direction of the setting sun.

“Worth it,” I confirmed, picking up a frosty bottle of Koko Brown. I sipped the ale as she peeled the edge of her label.

Behind us, somewhere off in the kitchen, the cheerful sound of baritone humming floated over the sizzle of a frying pan.

“So,” she settled back in the plastic chair, “Kyle overheard the woman at the front desk say you were an actress?”

Overheard. So she hadn’t been researching me. Maybe her boyfriend really had been blowing smoke up my ass about her wanting to press charges.

I hiked a casual shoulder, waiting for what always followed:What have you been in?But for once, it didn’t come. Which on any other occasion would have been a relief. I’d always hated the question because I didn’t have an exciting answer. Tonight, however, I wanted her to ask. I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like I’d have anything different to tell her. I couldn’t mentionSand Seekers, and I certainly wasn’t going to query whether she’d evernoticed the brunette in thePantene Pro Vcommercial, or the pair of legs sellingGillette Venusrazors. Nor did I imagine she’d be wowed by my Disney voiceovers—my biggest claim to fame being a singing, dancing purple dragon. Still, I guess I hoped she’d be intrigued. I think her lack of interest made me want to impress her.

But instead of asking anything about my career, she worked on another corner of her untouched beer bottle label. “And what brings you to the sleepy town of Hana?”

At least this was an easy answer. I gave her the CliffsNotes on Dani’s wedding, and my supporting role as Maid of Honor.

She arched an eyebrow, her lips toying with a smirk. “So the nosebleed heels and that little pink number aren’t your usual Friday night island go-to, then?”

Heat flooded my cheeks, despite the evening breeze. Dani and her damned pale peach satin bridesmaid dresses. It hadn’t dawned on me until then how stupid I must have looked, standing on the side of the road, tottering in stilettos, the drying flowers of my lei broadcasting my status as a hokey tourist.

But I wasn’t about to let her get my goat. I could give as good as I got. So, using the blush to my advantage, I plastered on my best embarrassed expression. “Oh.” I cast my eyes to the table. “I’d actually already changed at the reception.”

I glanced up in just enough time to enjoy the satisfaction of her horror at the blunder, before I lost the battle with my own sly smile. It took her a beat to realize she’d been had, and when she did, she laughed, her face brightening.

“Well played.” She flicked a sugar packet in my direction, missing me by a mile, and slung her lean body back into the chair, drawing one leg to her chest and resting her chin atop her knee. “You’ve got jokes, Kam-Kameryn.”

She asked a few more questions—was it my first time in Hawaii?No. Did I like Hollywood?That answer changed daily—sometimes hourly.When was I heading home?Wednesday.

While this last answer should have triggered a flurry of excitement—thoughts of sealing the deal onSand Seekers, attending the first reading, beginning on-set rehearsals, and all the ways my life was about to explode as I ventured into the world of a colossal major motion picture—those considerations didn’t immediately come to mind. Instead, I found myself fixated on the leg she’d hugged to her chest, wondering why I’d never realized calves could be so alluring. The concept seemed bizarre. I mean, I’d done that entireGilletterazor commercial and certainly never found any of my fellow actors’ legs sexy. I tried to picture Carter’s calves. They were hairy. That was as far as that thought process got me.

She caught me staring, and I reddened again, this time without any witty comeback to save my bacon.

“So what do you do?” I rushed through the inquiry, trying to turn the attention anywhere other than my ridiculous gawking.

Her lips never lost their lingering smile. “Me?” She shrugged. “I swim a little. Bike a lot. Run more than I want to.”

So she was a triathlete.It made sense, then, her insane physique. I lived in Hollywood—every person I knew had a personal trainer, a strength coach, a yoga instructor and nutrition specialist. But this woman’s fitness was on a whole different level. It also explained the funky tan lines from her wetsuit and goggles.

“So not an MMA fighter, then?” I gestured at her eye.

“Nah. That’s for the weak. Why limit yourself to getting knocked around in a ring when you can get mowed over while you cycle?”

My face must have fallen, because she rolled her eyes and waved a flippant hand through the air, disregarding my immediate contrition.

“Bad jest.” Unfolding herself from the chair, she picked up her unsipped beer, but never raised it to her lips. “Do me a favor and forget the other night. An accident’s an accident. That’s why I rang you. I didn’t want you hanging onto it. Honest.”

I was a little taken aback by her sudden sincerity, all sense of her underlying teasing absent. It made me feel even worse about the angry scarlet abrasions etched across her skin. But for the sake of the lightness of the evening, I tried to turn the tone in a different direction.