Delicious Do-Over. Debbi Rawlins

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СКАЧАТЬ and a black T-shirt, he looked as if he still belonged on a college campus. His light brown hair was still long, maybe more sun-streaked, his shoulders broad, his skin a deeper bronze. His mouth curved into that slow, killer smile she’d dreamed about for six years.

      “Jill,” he said in a voice huskier than she recalled.

      She blinked, swallowed. “Rick.” Before she knew what was happening, she was wrapped in his arms and he’d lifted her off the floor.

      She clung to his shoulders for support, muscles bunching under her palms. Oh, he’d definitely filled out. Her heart beat wildly as he spun her around, both of them grinning like kids. A moment passed, then two, and she was aware once more of the crowded lobby, of how tightly he held her against his body.

      “Everybody’s looking,” she said with a shaky laugh.

      “Let ’em.” He set her down, and lowered his head for a kiss that merely brushed her cheek. “You look great.”

      She combed a self-conscious hand through her hair. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

      A brief frown darkened his hazel eyes. “Facebook—that was you, right?”

      “Yes.” Her purse strap had slid down her shoulder, and she twisted it around her hand. “I meant that I just checked in, and well, here you are.”

      He winked with that same casual confidence she’d admired before. “I couldn’t wait.”

      Unfortunately, her attempt to sound casual came out as a small strangled laugh. He seemed taller than six feet but that had to be wrong because he’d been twenty-three when they’d first met, past the growing stage. Of course, they hadn’t been vertical much. The thought made her blush. Darn him for catching her off guard. She’d needed time to slip into Jill mode. Shoot, she needed to give him her real name. That was going to be fun.

      “You feel like catching up?” he added.

      “Sure.”

      He took her hand, which affected her far more than it should have. When she saw he was taking her to the Plantation Bar, she put on the brakes and shook her hand free.

      Rick cocked a brow. “Something wrong?”

      “How about the bar at the pool?”

      “The Plantation Bar might be quieter.”

      “One of my friends is there,” Lindsey admitted. “I’d rather be alone.”

      He took her hand back and changed direction. The thrill was just as strong. Come on, Lindsey, get a grip, it’s just holding hands, for goodness’ sake. If he—really—kissed her, she’d probably pass out. She wished she’d gotten the sunglasses though because she couldn’t stop staring at him. He wasn’t just hot. He’d left hot in the dust and gone straight to burning. In her dreams, he’d been yummy, but not nearly this tanned or ripped and, he hadn’t been able to wait!

      Sand between her toes surprised her into stopping. She looked down at her sandals and then at Rick. They were on the beach and not headed to the pool, which was in the other direction. “Rick—”

      “I know this cool bar on the beach. You won’t run in to anybody there.” He flashed a dazzling smile. “Unless you left more than one broken heart here six years ago.”

      Even though she knew he was teasing, her breath caught anyway. “I lost count.”

      His grin broadened. “It’s so good to see you, Jill.”

      “I have something to tell you.”

      “What’s that?”

      “My name isn’t Jill.” She cleared her throat. “It’s Lindsey.”

      An odd expression crossed his face, and she had the horrible feeling that he was about to walk away, leave her standing in the middle of the beach. He only kicked off his brown flip-flops, and then stooped to pick them up. “That’s going to take some getting used to. You want to take off those sandals?”

      “That’s it?”

      “You can take your top off if you want.”

      “No.” Heat crawled up her neck. “No, I meant about me giving you a fake name.”

      His smile told her that he’d been teasing again. She seriously needed to loosen up.

      “You were being cautious.” He shrugged. “I get it… Lindsey.” He said her name slowly, as if trying it out. “I like Lindsey. It suits you.”

      “Good.” She felt better…except for her feet. The sand lodged between her arches and sandals felt gritty and uncomfortable. She slipped the sandals off before they continued down the beach.

      “Are you going to tell me your last name?” He playfully bumped her shoulder with his. “Or do you want to wait and see how the day goes?”

      “Not a bad idea.”

      A faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Mine is Granger.”

      She had to give him points for not reacting badly to the fake name. “Shaw.” But she wouldn’t give him her room number yet. “When did you get here?”

      “The end of November.”

      “I meant Hawaii.”

      “I know.” He jerked his chin toward a hotel bordering the beach and guided her in that direction. “I have a house here.”

      “In Waikiki?”

      “The other side of the island. On the North Shore.”

      She shook her head, totally confused. She knew he’d gone to school in Southern California, and that he was from Michigan. “When did you move here?”

      “I didn’t.” He shaded his eyes and gazed out over the ocean, briefly focusing on a couple of bodysurfers. “I’m only here part-time. This is it,” he said, gesturing.

      The bar was little more than a grass hut without walls. She’d seen it from a distance and thought it was a concession that rented out surfboards and canoes. But there were shelves of liquor in the center, surrounded by a wooden bar and wooden stools. Inside the circle, a big man wearing a yellow Hawaiian shirt garnished frothy drinks with pineapple wedges and cherries.

      The bartender looked up when they slid onto stools facing the water, and a grin softened his craggy features. “Hey, Rick, long time no see. What you doin’ on this side of da island, bruddah?”

      “Slumming.”

      The man chuckled, leaned closer as he picked up the glasses. “You right about that,” he said in a discreet voice, giving Lindsey a quick wink before carrying the order to the customers sitting at the other end of the bar.

      “Slumming?” Lindsey repeated.

      Rick swiveled around to face her, his legs spread, effectively trapping her. “Not you. It’s a tourist thing.”

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