Page 32 of Between Hello and Goodbye

I shrugged. “I think so. Someday. I can’t quite imagine it in my current state, but I know I don’t want to still be dating when I’m fifty.” I took a bite of cold açaí, watching him. “Tell me for real. How do you live in such an isolated place?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Kauai is the opposite of a big city, and four years ago, that’s what I needed. Still do.”

“That’s what vacations are for. But to stay forever?” I shook my head. “I’d get a terminal case of island fever.”

“How do you know? You’ve only been here”—Asher pretended to check his watch— “thirty-six hours.”

“And I’m already wondering where the Sephora is.”

He chuckled and went back to his food, allowing me a few moments to take him in, starting with that watch on his impressive—and ridiculously sexy—forearm. It was heavy-duty and manly but also retailed for about nine grand. His clothes, upon closer inspection, were simple but high quality, and his Jeep was no junker either. Seems as if Asher had brought something from his finance days with him across the ocean, which wasn’t even the most interesting part about him.

Asher Mackey is entirely made up of interesting parts.

The man was an iceberg: what he gave up front was just a fraction of who he was down deep. Granted, I’d only known him a handful of hours (thirty-six, by his count), but my finely-honed interpersonal skills told me I’d barely begun to scratch the surface. He was a mass of contradictions: full of kindness but trying—and failing miserably—to hide it; an outdoorsman whom I could easily picture ordering fine wine in a fancy restaurant; a guy who traded stocks and bonds to be an EMT on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific.

Why?

“Nice watch,” I said after a moment. “TAG Heuer Carrera Chronograph, right?”

He frowned and automatically covered the watch with one hand. “I guess. How do you know?”

“I put one on Tom Brady for an ad campaign two years ago.” I arched a brow. “Not bad, Mackey.”

“It’s durable,” he said darkly. “Something wrong with that?”

“Not at all,” I said. “Quite the opposite; I would think it’d take a few luxuries to survive out here in the wilderness.”

“I haven’t given up civilization, just the bullshit.”

“I take it you have no online presence?”

“Online presence?” He said the words as if they tasted rotten. “No, I have noonline presence.The internet is a hoax.”

“A hoax.” I arched a brow. “Tell me more.”

“It isn’t real. At best, it’s a bunch of people showing off filtered photos of their lives and pretending they’re happier than they actually are. At worst, it’s a virtual townhall to bitch and moan and treat opinions like facts instead of the polished turds that they are.”

“Wow, tell me how you really feel,” I said with a laugh. “There are positives to it too, you know.”

“Name one.”

“I could name a hundred. It’s essential in my line of work, for one thing. But there are also some really damn funny and clever people out there, too. I once saw this meme of a cat—”

He was already shaking his head. “Look outside,” he said, gesturing to the window. “Real life is out there, not on a screen. I mean, have you ever been with the ocean?”

“Been withthe ocean?”

He shrugged self-consciously. “I meant, just sat and looked at it?”

“Of course, I have,” I said. “Lots of times. In Cancún, the Bahamas, Jamaica…” I tapped my fingernail to my teeth. “Although now that you mention it, I believe I stuck closer to the pool in all scenarios. Less sand in the crevices.”

Asher balled up his napkin. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the beach.”

“I thought you had to leave.”