Waikiki Wedding: Unforgettable Nights in Hawaii Page 5

  Emily stuck out her hand to still his. "No need. See you in a little bit." She turned toward the long string of customers, then looked back and chuckled. "Maybe."

  "Let's go stake our claim." Once again Ray reached down and laced his fingers with hers.

  Seconds before they came to the last bench the couple seated there jumped to their feet and walked away. The day was most definitely turning out to be one of her most fortunate.

  "So how long has it been since you’ve seen your brother?" Ray asked.

  "Almost twenty years." She paused at the surprise on his face. "It's a long story, but we were separated when my father died. Doug stayed in the foster care system. I was younger and got adopted."

  "That must have sucked for Doug."

  "I don't know. He doesn't talk about it. But I do know that he was happy in the navy. That's how he knows Emily."

  "She was in the navy?"

  Amy almost laughed at the expression on his face. "No. Her older brother was my brother's teammate. They were both EOD."

  Ray sucked in a breath. "Explosives Ordnance Disposal. Wow. Remind me not to piss him off."

  This time Amy laughed out loud. "They both had to leave due to injuries. Billy, Emily's brother, lost his leg. Doug lost his vision in one eye. I think Emily's the only reason he's okay with giving up the navy."

  "I know how he feels."

  "Oh?"

  Ray studied the ground a few long seconds before squeezing her hand and looking back up. "I was a running back at OSU on scholarship. According to everyone around me, I was destined for the NFL. Was actually a favorite to go in the early rounds draft pick."

  "What happened?"

  "Stupid thing really. One of the last games of the season—one I didn't even need to play in—I got tackled from the side. I went left, and my knee went right. One hit too many. My knee wouldn't have survived pro ball."

  "I'm sorry."

  "So was I. Ever since high school my plan was to play in the NFL. That was supposed to be my ticket out of Oklahoma. Follow my dreams, like Tish."

  "But …"

  "Turns out I don't have any other dreams." He hesitated again, this time focusing on something off in the distance. "You might call my visit to Tish a test run."

  "Test run?" She didn't understand.

  "Back home everyone remembers me as the star running back for the Oklahoma State Cowboys. The future-that-never-was is always right in front of me. I loved the rush that came with the perfect play, the last-minute win, the championship games." He shrugged and shook his head, almost as though he carried on a battle in his own mind. "But that's over. It's time to find a new love."

  Amy had no idea what to say. A longing in his eyes drew her in. Whether it was for her or his lost dreams, she didn't know, but right now it didn't seem to matter. Eyes locked, she leaned in farther. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and she closed her eyes.

  "Amy." Doug stood over them, holding two colorful ices, fire in his glare.

  Oops.

  Chapter Seven

  Their expanded group—which now included Amy, Doug, and Emily—stood clumped together, like a football huddle, just inside the entrance to the Polynesian Cultural Center. Out of earshot of the others, Tish collared Ray. “You sure you want to do this?”

  “Visit the Tongan village?” Ray pretended to study his map. “We could check out Samoa first, if you prefer.”

  “You know what I mean.” His sister fisted her hands at her sides, as she had when she was eight and had had enough of him teasing her. “I’ve seen the way you and Amy look at each other. You’re just asking for trouble.”

  He looked into her stubborn blue eyes. “Hey, I’m the big brother. But did I ever tell you, back home, who you should and shouldn’t date?”

  “No, because I never dated back home. If you had known Brady when I first met him, you would have—” She bit her lip.

  “I would have what?”

  “Never mind.”

  “I would have what?”

  Tish sighed. “You would have worried about me. Like I’m worried about you.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “What’s wrong with Amy? She’s sweet, smart, beautiful—”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s perfect. I wish you’d dated someone like her in high school instead of those tramps who fell all over you.”

  “It wasn’t me. It was the football uniform.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “So, if you like Amy, then what’s the problem?”

  “You know what the problem is, Ray. She lives in San Francisco. Do you plan on flying halfway across the country every other weekend or so to see your girlfriend?”

  Girlfriend? “Don’t you think you’re rushing things? I really only met her today.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And, even if we lived two miles from each other, the odds of this going anywhere are slim. She’s getting her master’s degree. She has a plan for her life. I just left my job, and I still don’t know what the hell I want to be when I grow up.” Damn. Their odds just went from slim to none.

  “So this is just a casual … whatever it is?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” At least that made sense. Whereas nothing else about his feelings for Amy did. When he looked at her, when she gazed up at him, he wanted to drink in her eyes and heart and soul.

  “Hey, guys, we’ve decided to start with the Samoan village.” Courtney bounded over to them. “The show starts in ten minutes.”

  They crowded onto bleachers to watch a man, wearing little more than a loincloth, scramble up a tree and knock down a coconut, then open it using only a small rock and his bare hands. Coconut milk poured out. The demonstrator allowed some of the tourists in the front row to sample it, while the narrator explained that, in Samoa, it was the men’s duty to prepare the food.

  “I think I might like living in Samoa,” Amy leaned forward and whispered near Ray's ear. Rising from the bench behind him, she stepped over the wooden plank to squeeze into the small space beside him.

  He scooted closer to Tish to make more room. “You don’t like to cook?”

  “Not every day.” She slid the sunglasses sitting atop her head down over her eyes. “I do have a few specialties I enjoy making.”

  “Is your mom’s lasagna one of them?”

  She shrugged. “It is, but Mom's is still better. Maybe one of these days—" Amy stopped midsentence. She had to quit thinking as if this were a budding relationship. She wouldn't be cooking for him. She wouldn't be seeing him again after Hawaii. And, regardless of how good he looked wearing that hotel towel, it wasn’t Amy’s nature to do casual flings.

  Yet they sat side by side during the Rainbows of Paradise Pageant, where colorful canoe floats from all the neighboring islands glided past the viewing stand as dancers performed for the tourists’ amusement. And they walked silently together through the Fiji exhibit, featuring massive clubs and weapons native to the culture, their hands swinging, fingers laced. Maybe they didn’t speak because they’d already run out of things to say. Or maybe because Doug and Emily were rarely more than a few chaperoning feet behind or in front of them. Or maybe just that words were not needed, a soundless connection radiating between them.

  In the Tahitian village, they watched men and boys, and some women, compete in a spear throw. “You up for that?” Doug asked Ray.

  Ray met her brother’s challenge. “I’m up for anything.”

  A pissing contest, Amy thought, but she was too curious to stop them.

  The men lined up and practiced hefting their spears, the goal to hit a coconut. Doug had his navy background in his favor, but his vision loss worked against him. After three attempts and three near-misses, he handed his spear back to the Tahitian moderator.

  When Ray sliced the coconut in half with his first throw, Amy was tempted to cheer but stifled her cry in her throat. It was only a game anyway. It wasn’t as if the two men were contending to win her favor.

  At the Hawaii
exhibit, women wearing wreaths of leaves as necklaces, bracelets, anklets, and headdresses demonstrated the movements of the hula dance, while the narrator explained that the hand motions told a story. The music was enchanting, seducing, and Amy’s body swayed involuntarily. When the audience was invited onto the small stage to participate, she was the first to jump out of her seat. “Come on, Emily.”

  “Sure, why not?” Her soon-to-be-sister-in-law followed Amy's lead.

  Losing herself in the dance, Amy almost forgot where she was and who she was with. When she looked up, she noticed Doug and Ray sitting together, watching the dancing, exchanging words every so often. Whatever rivalry may have existed during the spear throw seemed to have dissipated.

  “You’re up.” Emily reached into the stands and grabbed Doug’s hand, hauling him onstage.

  Watching him make a good-natured fool of himself encouraged Amy to pull Ray onstage as well.

  “I have no rhythm,” he protested, but, in short order, he gravitated next to Amy, swinging his hips as if he were negotiating a hula hoop.

  “You go, Towel Guy,” Amy encouraged in a quiet voice.

  But Emily had heard her. “Towel Guy? Oh, this is one story I’ve got to hear.”

  • • •

  Ray had heard about Hawaiian luaus, but he hadn’t expected to see two men actually carry a roasted pig across the stage. Nor had he expected the fire dance to be so … hot. Even from his seat, he could feel the heat from the flaming torches on his face.

  The poi and other Hawaiian foods at the buffet tasted like nothing he was used to, or cared to get used to, but the entertainment was extraordinary, and the covered outdoor venue, surrounded by lush gardens and waterfalls, would have been wonderfully romantic—had there been a beautiful woman sitting beside him.

  He craned his neck to find Amy and her party, and spotted them at one of the front tables at the other side of the semicircular arena. The two parties had been separated at the entrance and directed to their reserved seats.

  “Drew’s in port!” Courtney squealed over the quiet conversations of the other diners. She tapped hurriedly on her phone. “His ship just dropped anchor.”

  “That’s great,” Tish said. “Maybe he’ll be at the hotel when we get back tonight.”

  “Oh, no way.” Courtney spoke in a quieter tone but just barely. “They won’t let anybody off the ship until tomorrow. But he and his groomsmen will be here in time for the bachelor party, and …” Her brows wiggled wickedly.

  Ray could guess what thoughts were going through the bride’s mind. He stood so he could get a better view of Amy, but she was chatting animatedly with Doug and Emily, and didn’t even look up. Dusk turned into darkness. When the show ended, and the diners were ushered to the exit, Ray was unbelievably eager to return to that damned bus.

  Waiting for him outside the theater, Amy looked radiant in the light of the tiki torches, a lei of fresh fragrant flowers around her neck. Doug and Emily were already heading down the path to the bus, and Courtney, Matt, and Lisa followed suit.

  “I’m running into the gift shop for a couple of souvenirs,” Tish said, breaking away from the group. She spoke to Ray and Amy. “Don’t let the bus leave without me.”

  Amy’s gaze followed his sister’s departing figure. “That first time I saw you, in the lobby,” she said, “I thought Tish was your wife.”

  “And I thought Doug was your husband.”

  “Seriously? You couldn’t tell by the way I looked at you that I'm single?”

  “Well, I was hoping, but you could have just been squinting from the sun. Then Doug arrived, and you jumped into his arms …”

  “You saw that? You were busy saving that boy.”

  Ray should have been embarrassed to admit it, but he wasn’t. “Before I spotted the boy, I looked back at you to try to catch your eye. But you were all over Doug. And, by the time I got the kid out of the water and had walked back up the beach, the two of you were gone.”

  “Wait. If you thought Doug and I were a couple, why were you still checking me out on the terrace?”

  Now he did blush, feeling the heat spread from ear to ear. “Damned if I know.”

  She smiled. “Doug fell in love with Emily at first sight. And he doesn’t know I know this, but they slept together the same night.” Suddenly Amy’s cheeks turned as red as Ray was sure his were. “I mean, … that is, I didn’t mean that …”

  “I don’t believe in love at first sight,” Ray said.

  Her face resumed its normal color, presumably in relief, but he also thought he detected a sliver of disappointment in her eyes.

  “On the other hand …” He stepped forward to take her in his arms, but she was already moving into them. Like one of those slow-motion commercials, her mouth glided toward his. Their lips met. Ray tasted sugar and sweetness and the lingering flavor of her chocolate dessert.

  He pulled her closer, inhaling her soft scent, his body hardening as hers molded to his. Ray longed to explore her mouth but held back. He didn’t want to rush, didn’t want to spoil this moment of sweet surrender. His head clouded, as if he were under a magic spell, and he wanted it to last.

  “You guys are still here?” Tish’s voice interrupted the spell, and Amy sprang from his arms. “Oh, my God, the bus may have left by now!”

  It hadn’t, but the looks they received from the sleepy, anxious-to-get-back-to-the-hotel passengers were not welcoming. Ray settled Amy into the inside seat so she could snooze against the window if she wanted on the two-hour ride back to Waikiki. She fell asleep almost immediately but with her head against his shoulder, her tousled hair spilling over his chest.

  Chapter Eight

  "Where's the bride?" Yawning, Amy pulled out the chair beside her friend Linda.

  "She should be down any minute. I left her cooing on the phone with Bryce."

  By the time Amy had gotten home last night, her friends had already gone to sleep and left her a message to meet at the terrace for breakfast at seven. Still being on California time, the early hour should have been easy. Too bad she'd spent the better part of the night tossing and turning. What she'd hoped for, once she and Ray had returned to the hotel, was a chance at an uninterrupted good-night kiss. Instead she'd run smack into an overprotective brother, practically standing guard in the hall, until she and Ray were safely behind separate closed doors. Curled up in bed, she'd relived that one little kiss over and over in her mind until sleep finally won out somewhere near the crack of dawn.

  Amy's phone buzzed with a text. Emily's number. Meet us for breakfast?

  Already on terrace, she texted back.

  Great. On our way.

  For a split second she considered adding she was having breakfast with her friends, and Doug would be outnumbered, but she figured, if the guy could survive the Persian Gulf, he could survive a table of women.

  "Amy," a familiar voice called out. Lisa scurried in her direction. "Is this the other bride?"

  "Other?" Linda asked.

  "Nope. The maid of honor, Linda." Amy waved between the two ladies. "This is Lisa, the other maid of honor."

  "Hey." Tish came up behind Lisa. A round of nice to meet yous were exchanged, and Tish extended her hand to Linda. "You must be the other bride."

  Linda shot Amy a what the hell is everyone talking about look just as Courtney stepped out of the elevator with Carrie at her side.

  "That"—Amy pointed to Carrie—"is the other bride." Amy turned her attention back to Linda. "On the tour yesterday we made friends with another group. Courtney, the redhead has the same idea for the perfect destination wedding as Carrie. Here."

  Another elevator opened and out came Doug, Emily, and Matt.

  "Here?" Linda repeated.

  "On Saturday too," Lisa added.

  "What's on Saturday too?" Carrie was the first of the brides to reach the table.

  "Your wedding." Brows furrowed, Linda looked as though she'd sucked on a lemon. Shifting her gaze to the left, she w
aved an extended finger at Courtney. "And hers."

  "Oh." Courtney's face lit up. "You must be the other bride?"

  Linda rolled her eyes. Emily, Doug, and Matt walked up to the table, and another round of introductions and explanations ensued as nearby tables and chairs were pulled over to accommodate the larger group.

  Another couple with a baby arrived, and Amy glanced toward the elevators. Still no Ray. During the earlier chair-shuffling on the terrace, the women had wound up at one end of the table and the men at the other. The elevators had come and gone so many times since the entire group had arrived that Amy had finally stopped looking in that direction every time the ding sounded and got caught up in the telling of how Carrie wound up canceling her big, stressful wedding.

  "I love my mom, really I do," Carrie repeated. "But I swear, if I heard her complain one more time about inviting Uncle Herbie's new wife under protest or how it would be easier to do a seating chart for the Hatfields and McCoys than for our family, I would have strangled her with my bare hands."

  "My mother is a bit … different," Courtney said, glancing at her friend Lisa.

  Amy figured there was a story there but Carrie was on a roll.

  "Good morning."

  The raspy male voice coming from behind Amy startled her stiff. Pressing her hand to her chest, she willed her heart to slow. At first from the surprise and now from the sight of Ray smiling down at her.

  "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." Ray dragged a chair beside her, forcing Lisa to shift down the table to make room.

  It shouldn't have made her smile so wide, but having him sit by her instead of in the empty seat at the other end of the table with all the guys sent her heart racing again. She hadn't let herself think he was avoiding her this morning. But deep down she had worried that maybe the vacation romance had run its course.

  He leaned over and whispered in a low, soothing tone, "Sorry I was late. I finally gave up on a good night's sleep, so I hit the beach for a jog."

  Her heart warmed at his words. "Yeah, I had a hard time sleeping too."