The Look of Love Read online




  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Christine Baena

  Excerpt from Love by Design copyright © 2015 Christine Baena

  Editor: Megan McKeever

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, redistributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, print, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Author.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-942561-90-3

  Indie House Publishing

  Books by Chris Keniston

  Honeymoon For One

  Aloha Series

  Aloha Texas

  Almost Paradise

  Mai Tai Marriage

  Dive Into You

  Shell Game

  The Look of Love

  Love by Design

  Surf’s Up Flirts

  (Aloha Series Companions)

  Shall We Dance

  Love on Tap

  Head Over Heels

  Family Secrets Novels

  Champagne Sisterhood

  The Homecoming

  Hope’s Corner

  See all available on Kobo

  More on Chris and her books can be found at www.chriskeniston.com

  Follow Chris on Facebook at ChrisKenistonAuthor

  or on Twitter @ckenistonauthor

  Be the first to hear about my next book?

  Sign up for my newsletter on my website or click here:

  http://bit.ly/CKenistonNewsletter.

  I take your privacy seriously. I will not sell your email nor contact you for any other reason than to send you a publication alert for when my next book is available.

  Acknowledgment

  In an effort to write faster I am very thankful for all the friends who come to my aid in so many different ways. But I have to give a special thank you to:

  Kathy Ivan, Linda Steinberg and the rest of the Plotting Princesses for always pointing me in the right direction. Cheryl Lucas for being the best sounding board and idea person around—any time of day or night. And of course my family who still smile and nod when I say “sorry, I’m on deadline.”

  Chapter One

  “Remind me again why we’re here three hours before departure?” Madeleine Harper tugged at the handle on the last of her mother’s three suitcases and thanked heaven for whoever invented four-wheeled luggage. The new spinner style suitcases made juggling all these bags and her carryon so much easier. For the last couple of days she’d watched her mother flutter from baby boutique to mega–box store like a merrily drunken butterfly. Now they were hauling her loot to Nick’s house in Kona.

  “Your mother is anxious to get to Hawaii.” Randy Harper relieved his daughter of the two larger suitcases. “And just in case every baby shop on the Big Island has gone out of business, she’s bringing enough merchandise for a tribe of grandchildren.”

  “Not everything is for the new baby.” Yvette Harper tapped her toe, waiting for her husband to catch up. “There’s plenty here for Bradley too.”

  “Of course.” Madeleine took a deep breath and followed her parents into the terminal at LAX. She was just as excited about her brother, Nick’s, soon-to-arrive second child, especially since she’d not met her nephew Bradley until he was almost six. But she’d have also been just as happy to sleep in an extra hour this morning rather than arrive at the airport at the crack of dawn only to hurry up and wait.

  “Good grief.” Maddie stopped short at the maze of passengers ahead. “Is that the security line?”

  Like a matched set of bobbleheads, Yvette and Randy Harper scanned the crowd from one side of the cavernous airport to the other and nodded. “Looks like it.”

  “Maybe arriving insanely early wasn’t such a bad idea after all.” Madeleine tightened her grip on each suitcase, and, like an obedient duckling, followed single file behind her parents. She was nearly to the ticketing area when one of the wheels on her mom’s trunk-size suitcase went rogue. The fifty-pound bag veered suddenly right and slammed into the passenger backing away from a self-check kiosk. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” Mortification erupted at the sight of the wayward bag bouncing off the back of denim-clad legs.

  A six-foot wall of a man turned and glanced down dismissively at the offending suitcase she’d already managed to corral back to her side. “No problem.”

  Sea green eyes with fine laugh lines stretching from the corners stared down at her, and Madeleine was sure what little saliva was left in her mouth had just turned to dust. Reflexively she took a step back. Not till her knees buckled beneath her and her arms flew up in an effort to regain her balance, did she remember the other bag still parked at her feet. Squealing like a young girl spotting a mouse, she thrust her arms backward in a flimsy effort to break her fall when two large vises tightened around her forearms.

  “Easy there.”

  His deep, slow, even tone brought a wave of instant calm.

  Steady on her feet again, she managed an appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” His hands hovered in midair as he retreated, no doubt concerned she might find something else to topple over.

  “There you are.” Randy Harper appeared beside his daughter. “I thought you were right behind me.”

  “I was. I am.” She reached for the two bags, spinning the troublesome one to the other side and looked up at the stranger she’d collided with. “Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome, and remember next time to signal before turning.” With a short nod and a broad smile he turned on his heel and headed toward security.

  Randy repositioned himself beside his daughter, taking control of one of the bags. “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing much.” Maddie maneuvered the bulky bag forward. “I accidentally plowed into him with Mom’s suitcase.”

  “Considering how overloaded these suckers are, you’re lucky he didn’t break a leg.”

  “At least now if anyone tries to sue, we have a great lawyer in the family.” As if on cue, her cell phone rang. Apparently she wasn’t the only one up insanely early this morning. Rummaging through her purse, she pulled out her phone. Grinning like a schoolgirl, she answered with a syrupy “Aloha.”

  “Try not to sound so glum,” her brother, Nick, teased.

  “Are you kidding? A whole month without my phone ringing every five minutes, no clients expecting me to go running when they find the perfect house on the Internet, even if it doesn’t have a single one of their must-have items, and no arrogant coworkers thinking they’re God’s gift to women—”

  “I detect a story there.”

  Nick was the best big brother a girl could ask for. When she was really young and her ice cream would fall off the cone, which seemed to happen to her a lot, he’d always shared his. In junior high a couple of creepy teens had followed her and her friend around at the movie theater, and then taken a seat beside her. When she’d called Nick in a panic, he’d left a party to sit with her and then drive her home. And on her sixteenth birthday he’d come home from A&M and taught her how to drink smart, insisting no asshole would take advantage of his little sister by getting her drunk. She’d missed him horribly while he was at school and even more when he’d left for active duty. When he’d finally separated from the navy a few years ago, she’d hoped he’d settle down near her in San Diego, but, if she had to visit her brother somewhere, she was delighted he’d moved to Hawaii and not South Dakota.

  “No story,” she answered, “just another idiot at the office who looks good on the surface and turns out to be an immature dud
.” For the next thirty days Maddie was going to be on the first real vacation she’d had since college. No work. No hassles. No men.

  * * *

  Daniel O’Neil shoved his carry-on into the overhead bin. One of the many things he’d learned after twenty years in the navy was how to pack an overnight seabag to last a week. When first asked to speak at the explosive ordinance disposal symposium, he’d been reluctant to participate. Then he’d learned the venue would be Honolulu. No way would he turn down an easy excuse to pop over and check up on Carolyn’s new home.

  All he had to do was survive the six hour long flight in seats designed for pygmies. At least now most airlines offered an upgrade with enough legroom to keep him from having to fly with his knees knocking the seat in front of him. Of course, with or without legroom, flying commercial beat flying halfway around the world on a military transport.

  Strapped in, Daniel pulled out the latest John Grisham novel, and cell phone in hand, swiped at the screen to flip it to airplane mode when Carolyn’s ring tone sounded. “O’Neil here.”

  “Civilians usually answer with hello.” Amusement carried in her voice.

  “Hello,” he repeated more warmly. Dan was still getting used to being a civilian. And having a daughter. “All settled in?”

  “And loving it. There really is no place like paradise. But I’ve saved a few little things for you to do.” She paused a moment. “That is if you don’t mind, I mean. You are pretty handy?”

  “I am, and I’m happy to help.” Handy was a rather loose-fitting handle for an EOD technician. Most of them could put MacGyver to shame. In order to safely disarm explosive devices of any shape or size, in any location, or under any circumstances, it was a given he and his men qualified as handy. “I should be finished with business in time for a late flight to Kona day after tomorrow. I’ll call and confirm.” Not that he hadn’t timed his schedule to the minute already.

  “Okay. See you then… Bye.”

  “See you day after tomorrow.” For a few long seconds after the call disconnected, he stared at the screen. How differently would their conversation have gone if he’d been her dad her whole life and not just the father she’d tracked down less than a year ago?

  “Can’t wait to see you, Daddy.”

  “Me too, princess.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you more.”

  Changing the appropriate settings, he slid the phone into his briefcase and returned to the paperback. Maybe a legal thriller would get his mind off the choices he’d made in his life. And the ones on his plate now.

  “Excuse me.” The soft, slightly southern and somewhat familiar voice caught his attention.

  Looking up from his book, he saw the young brunette who had slammed her luggage into him and then had nearly taken a dive over the same suitcases. Standing in the aisle, she juggled a hardcased carryon while trying not to assault every passenger within five feet of her.

  “Leave it in your seat, and I’ll put it up for you.” The instructions came from the same older gentleman who had come looking for her in the terminal. Possibly her father, possibly her companion.

  With shoulder-length chestnut hair and big brown eyes that danced with a love of life, she was definitely pretty enough to be a trophy wife but didn’t have any other characteristics of a woman marrying for money or social position. Setting aside his book, he pushed to his feet, carefully ducking to avoid slamming his head on the bins. “Allow me.” Dan had to bite back a smile at the way her eyes rounded with surprise and her cheeks flushed with color.

  She eased back to hand the bag to him and stepped on the foot of the person behind her. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she turned, apologizing to the petite woman.

  Dan shoved the carry-on between a backpack and his bag and, slamming shut the lid to the full compartment, returned to his window seat.

  The still blushing brunette slid into the spot beside him, and then, shimmying back and forth in place searching for the seat belt, she yanked hard at the strap underneath her. With the extra effort, her arm came flying back and only his well-honed reflexes prevented him from getting smacked in the face. No, she was definitely not a trophy wife.

  Once again opening his book, he turned his attention to the plot and did his best to ignore the young thing settling in beside him. When the captain announced over the loud speaker that they were next in line and would be taking off any minute, he noticed she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Afraid of flying?

  “No, not really.”

  When she turned to face him, he realized he’d actually given voice to his thoughts. He had no business chatting up the lady. She probably wasn’t much older than Carolyn. Then again, conversing with your seatmate wasn’t necessarily a precursor to a torrid affair. Once off the airplane, he had no reason to ever see the girl again in his life. And even if he were tempted by the mild floral perfume she wore or the cute way her cheeks kept flushing with embarrassment, highlighting porcelain-perfect skin, he’d only be in Honolulu for a day and a half. “There’s really nothing to it.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “It’s just the takeoff and landing that reminds me of all the things that could go wrong.”

  This was probably not the time to point out all the things that could go wrong in between takeoff and landing. “We’ll be up in the air in no time.”

  Her head bobbed. “You fly a lot?”

  “Used to.”

  “For work?”

  This time he was the one to nod.

  “Salesman?”

  “Navy.”

  “Really?” Her face brightened, and she shifted to better face him. She had a captivating smile that he found way more appealing than he should. “My brother was in the navy. How long have you been out?”

  He could almost count the time down to the minutes. “Going on thirty days.”

  “That would explain the haircut.”

  He resisted the urge to rake his hand across his hairline. “Some habits are hard to break.”

  “You don’t need to. The military cut looks good on you. Shows off your eyes.”

  Was she flirting with him? “Thank you.”

  “So what brings you to Hawaii?”

  “I’m giving a speech at a symposium.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “I doubt it.” He didn’t know many women who wanted to know the ins and outs of blowing things up for a living. EOD techs had almost as high a divorce rate as the SEALs. But he wasn’t in EOD anymore. He wasn’t responsible for men’s lives. For a country’s safety. There would be no more moving from base to base, pulling out on missions to undisclosed locations for an undisclosed amount of time. And no excuses for not settling down to a normal family life.

  On the other hand he’d spent the last thirty days living normal. For him. He still woke up at 5:30. Still made his bed with hospital corners. And still couldn’t bring himself to put his hands in his pockets. Maybe leaving the navy to start his life over wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had.

  Chapter Two

  “What are you doing?” Nick Harper walked into the guest room in time to find his very pregnant wife wrestling a mattress.

  “The package said suitable for pillowtop beds.” She tugged at a corner and grunted. “They lied.”

  “Let me.” He settled his hands over hers, gently nudging them away. “Please.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, Kara straightened. Hands on her lower back, she bowed slightly backward before grabbing the flat sheet.

  Having successfully tucked the fitted corners over the new mattress, Nick held his hand out to his wife. “I can do that.”

  “So can I.” She flicked the sheet from the corners and let the large swath of fabric settle over the bed. “I’m not an invalid.”

  Kara had said that very phrase to him and others so many times over the last few months it should be etched on his eardrums. But he couldn’t help fussing over her. He had no idea it was possible to love and worry so m
uch about another person. But he simply couldn’t fathom his world without Kara in it. “It’s my family. I should have bed-making duty.”

  Rolling her eyes, Kara smoothed out the sheet and reached for a lightweight coverlet. “If you’re so eager to help, grab a corner.”

  The bed made and the decorative pillows in place, Nick swirled his wife into his arms. “Have I mentioned lately how much I love you, Mrs. Harper?”

  Chuckling softly, Kara leaned into the embrace. “Feel free to remind me again.”

  “I think I will.” Pulling her closer, he let his lips settle on hers. He didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of kissing this woman. Just as he was about to forget himself and drag her off to their room, a hard thump from her belly whacked him in the side. He broke off the kiss with a smile. “Today it feels like you’re nurturing a future middle linebacker.”

  “And here I was thinking a gymnast.”

  Together they had decided to do things the old-fashioned way and not be told the sex of the baby. Letting his hand settle over her tummy around the spot that had kicked him, he waited. By now Kara knew the routine and patiently waited with him for Baby H to either settle down or move again for his or her daddy. More often than not the baby would cooperate and roll under the warmth of his palm. Which was one of the many reasons he actually thought maybe this child was a little girl, trying very successfully to wrap Daddy around her finger.

  “There she goes.” Nick lowered his lips to within inches of his wife’s rounded tummy. “Pretty soon your gramma and grampa and aunt Maddie will be landing in Kona. They’re coming just to meet you.”