Getting Lei'd Read online

  I guess we always want what we can’t have, but knowing that Kai is physically unavailable to me makes me want him even more. I have never craved a man’s body the way I desire Kai. The knowledge that I’ll never have him makes it that much worse. As anxious as I am to spend the day with him, the idea of keeping my hands off him is becoming more of a challenge than I could have ever imagined.

  I decide to take a cool shower in hopes that it will help stave off the burning desire building in me. As much as I want Kai, I have to think about how he feels. Having never had sex, he is probably practically bursting with need. Stepping out of the shower, I realize that I admire his extreme willpower and the unwavering respect he has for his dying mother’s wishes, so I don’t want to tempt him into doing something that he will regret.

  Do they still make chastity belts? I wonder, chuckling as I head down for breakfast.

  Chapter 24

  I am pleased to find Baggy and Ruthie at our usual breakfast table. Both of their men have joined them, so I have to scoot over a nearby two-top to be able to sit with them. They all seem to be excited at the prospect of sailing with Kai, so we scarf down our food and agree to meet down at the docks in twenty minutes.

  Having never been sailing, I’m not exactly sure what to expect. I had hoped that it would be as carefree, fun, and relaxing as it looks in photos, and I am pleasantly surprised to find that it is even better than I had imagined.

  Kai is super-patient as he shows us the ropes. Rather than barking out orders and becoming impatient with my flighty family, like Gary no doubt would have, Kai calmly explains what needs to be done in his good-natured manner. I am slightly embarrassed to realize that this fleeting, unflattering thought of Gary is the first time my almost husband has crossed my mind in days. Clearly, it is a good thing that we didn’t get married. How could I have thought I was in love with him? He didn’t make me feel a tenth of the emotion that Kai does.

  I watch Kai’s muscular shoulders work the jib or mast or whatever it is that he called the big triangular doo-hickey. He has shucked his shirt, and he looks tan and delectable. I sit back, relax, and enjoy watching him.

  Curtis seems to be the man of all watersports. He has quickly picked up on sailing and is cheerily helping Kai, which takes the pressure off the rest of us. Ruthie seems as happy to sit back and watch Curtis as I am to gaze at Kai.

  We get a good chuckle watching Jim/Howie and Baggy on the bow of the boat. At first, Baggy acts like a beautiful mermaid statue leading our boat’s charge through the water. Unable to resist, Jim/Howie soon joins her leaning out over the water and declaring, “I’m the king of the world.”

  “Those two are a match made in heaven.” The wind carries Kai’s voice in my direction.

  I nod in agreement. As uncertain as I was at first about her new man, I have to admit, they really do seem to be perfect for each other. I never would have thought that Baggy would find someone as eccentric and full of life as she is, but I think she might have succeeded in doing just that. They certainly seem to have fun together. I don’t recall ever seeing Baggy this happy.

  Kai asks if we’d like to stop at a deserted island, and we are all in agreement that this sounds like loads of fun. He drops anchor, and we set off in pairs.

  Ruthie and Curtis dive into the water and swim toward shore. I hear them giggling as they jog hand-in-hand into the lush foliage. Kai gives me a shy smile as we make eye contact—both of us know exactly what they’re going to do.

  Baggy and her man set off in our boat’s small dinghy. He gallantly rows while Baggy sits with her back stiff and straight, like she is the homecoming queen riding in a convertible red Corvette. I almost expect her to give us a prim curved palm wave, but she refrains.

  Kai and I don snorkel gear and jump off the Catamaran. I am simply stunned by the vibrant colors and variety of marine life that is teeming just under the surface of the water. We hold hands as we glide through the water enjoying the show. It is a whole other world under water, and I feel lucky to be able to get a glimpse of it, even if I am an intruder. We are careful to keep our distance and avoid touching anything, so as not to upset the delicate balance of this undersea utopia.

  We snorkel for a long while before heading toward shore. I have lost track of Baggy’s boat and Ruthie hasn’t emerged from her tryst in the jungle, so it feels like Kai and I are the only people on Earth as we walk along the shore together. He finds a beautiful, unblemished conch shell, which he holds up and blows loudly. The tooting sounds like the dinner bell for a luau, and it makes me laugh.

  We walk for what seems like miles along the pink sandy shoreline. When we stumble upon the beached dinghy, but don’t see any sign of Baggy, I start to become a little concerned. I say as much to Kai.

  “I think they’re okay,” he tells me, pointing out the pile of clothes farther down the beach.

  Quickly realizing they must be skinny-dipping and so not wanting to see that, I suggest that we turn back. Kai readily agrees—likely not wanting to risk seeing Baggy frolicking au natural with her man any more than I do.

  Once we reach a safe distance from any chance of seeing the elderly bumping of the uglies, we sit down on the sand, our legs touching. Kai addresses the elephant in the room—or rather, on the island. “I think everyone here is having sex, except for us.” When I nod, he continues, “I’m sorry that we can’t fool around,” he tells me earnestly. He is quiet for a while before adding, “You’d probably much rather be here with someone who you could get naked with—someone who can show you the pleasures that I can’t. It is supposed to be your honeymoon, after all.”

  Since we haven't discussed this before, I give him a questioning look. "The wedding gown at the airport gave you away." He smiles, but I still feel slightly guilty for making him draw his own conclusions about my non-wedding, rather than telling him about it sooner. He has shared his secret with me, and I need to be more open with him.

  It feels good to talk to Kai about what had happened with Gary—especially when I hear his reaction to what I now refer to as the dumping text. "Crazy bastard," he says simply, shaking his head.

  We are quiet a while, each lost in our own thoughts, until Kai murmurs, "He might be crazy, but he could have at least had sex with you, unlike me."

  I don't want Kai to feel insecure. I long to make him feel better. “I want to be here with you,” I tell him honestly.

  I wonder if I should suggest we play around in ways that don’t involve actual intercourse, but I’m not at all sure that we would be able to keep things from going too far. I’m also not crystal-clear on exactly what the acceptable activities boundaries are. Finally, I settle for saying, “If we could get naked, that would be great,” he blushes a little at my words, “but you are the one I want to be with, whether we’re clothed or not.”

  “I feel the same way,” he murmurs near my ear. “Someday, I’ll bring you back here, and we’ll spend hours ravaging each other’s naked bodies.”

  I wish that he wouldn’t make promises that he has no intention of keeping, but I decide to enjoy the fantasy and not call him out on it. After all, it seems that fantasy is all I’m going to get with Kai. That sounded bitter, I think to myself. I don’t blame Kai at all for our circumstances. In fact, I admire him for his incredible restraint. Being on a secluded island where my sister and grandmother are getting down and dirty, while I sit with the man of my dreams holding his hand is for the birds, though. More than that, it just plain sucks. There, I said it—in my mind, anyway. That counts, right?

  By the time the others finally return, I have released my sour mood and am just grateful to be in this amazing place with this wonderful man. I hand the other two ladies gorgeous pink hibiscus flowers, and we each place one behind our ear. Kai tells us we look like Hawaiian beauties, which makes us all preen a little.

  He gently switches my flower to my left ear, whispering that a hibiscus worn on the right side of the hair means you are available. “You’re taken,” he gro
wls in a deep voice before nibbling my ear and sniffing the flower. The sentiment makes a delicious shiver zing up my spine, despite my effort to keep my hopes for a real and lasting relationship with Kai at bay.

  The men set about catching fish and building a fire on the beach. I had been uncertain about eating a fish that I had just seen wriggling on the line, but I have to admit, it is really delicious. We sit around the fire eating and laughing, enjoying an utterly carefree, wonderful time.

  When Ruthie pulls from her pocket a dark lava rock that she has picked up, Baggy shocks us all by being practical—well, somewhat practical. “You can’t take that from the island,” she tells Ruthie vehemently. “It’s a piece of the island, and it belongs here. Taking it will only serve to anger the land, and it will seek vengeance.” We all stare at Baggy. This warning is so out of character for her. She’s normally the one getting into mischief, not doling out precautions.

  Just when I start to think that she might have a conservative and responsible side, she proves that she’s still Baggy by adding in a serious voice, “Didn’t you see the Hawaii episodes of The Brady Bunch? Bad things happen when people steal from the islands.”

  We are all laughing as we climb back aboard Kai’s boat. “What? It’s true!” Baggy declares, not seeing why the Brady Bunch reference makes her statement seem so much less ominous.

  “Only you,” Ruthie tells her lovingly, shaking her head as she chucks the rock back into the sea.

  Chapter 25

  Later that evening, depression over our imminent departure starts to set in. I have been somewhat successful at refusing to think about leaving this lovely island or the fantastic man I met here, but all too quickly our stay is coming to an end. The time has flown by, and now suddenly it’s time to start packing. I feel like hurling myself onto the floor like a two-year-old and kicking my feet because I don’t want to leave.

  The fact that I was able to enjoy today and not spend the entire day thinking about having to leave is a huge improvement over my norm. I have always been this way. I would ruin Sunday by dreading school on Monday. I am always looking forward at what is coming around the bend rather than enjoying the here and now. I’m actually rather proud of myself for not letting the impending end to our trip dampen my spirits until now.

  The dread had wanted to start creeping in earlier today on Kai’s boat, but I had managed to keep it at bay by repeatedly forcing myself not to think about it. I have no choice but to think about it now, though, because it’s time to start packing my belongings into my suitcase—much as I don’t want to.

  Sitting in the dark by the pool, avoiding the chore of packing, I am slowly and methodically ripping the petals from the lovely flower that was previously tucked behind my ear. I don’t know why I’m doing it, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

  “He loves you.” Kai has snuck up behind me and he whispers the words near my ear. The sweet and wonderful words send a tingly chill up and down my spine, even though I know it’s too soon for them to possibly be true.

  He sits down with me, and I know that I need to tell him that I am leaving, but I just can’t seem to formulate the words. He has to know it is coming soon. Maybe he even knows our checkout is scheduled for tomorrow.

  Our impending departure is all I can think about, but I just can’t find a way to utter the words. Eventually, I cop out by saying that I am tired and feigning a yawn before heading back to my room.

  I’m such a ridiculous chicken, I decide as I neatly tuck items into my suitcase. Baggy and Ruthie both opted to spend the night with their boyfriends—that juvenile word doesn’t seem accurate, but I’m not sure what else to call them. Those two don’t seem at all concerned about packing or getting ready to leave. They’ll probably both slide in here at the last minute tomorrow and start tossing their few belongings and purchases into my bag. They both spend every moment in the here and now. It likely hasn’t even crossed their minds that we’ll be leaving tomorrow. Tomorrow . . . sigh.

  I sleep fitfully, but must eventually doze off because I’m startled awake when Baggy and Ruthie return to the room. There is a queasy ball in the pit of my stomach about having to tell Kai good-bye today. I don’t want to say the words or do the leaving.

  Ruthie and Baggy are chatting amiably as if this isn’t the worst day ever. “You two are pretty chipper, considering we are leaving paradise today,” I grumble at them.

  They both look at me with wide eyes, like this is complete news to them. “Come on, you didn’t think we were staying here forever? It’s time to head home.” They both give me blank stares. A thought pops into my head that makes my stomach drop even further. “You did book your return flights, right?” I don’t think I could handle heading home, leaving the two of them to live it up in paradise without me until one or the other of them has enough sense to come back.

  “Of course we did,” Baggy informs me. “We booked the same return flight you are on.” I heave a sigh of relief. It might be selfish, but if I can’t stay, I don’t want them to, either.

  “We will fly with you to Atlanta and pick up Gary’s car.” I squint my eyes because I’d be shocked if Gary hadn’t already tracked down his car and picked it up, but I don’t mention that. We will deal with getting them a flight or rental car when the time comes. “You can either take your scheduled flight from Atlanta or ride back with us,” Baggy says, sounding surprisingly practical. It’s not like her to be so levelheaded or to think these types of things through in advance.

  “I don’t want to go home,” Ruthie pouts, actually sticking her lip out and stomping one foot. It looks like she might be the one who throws the toddler tantrum that I considered last night.

  Baggy looks at her for a long moment. “Let’s just stay then,” she decides.

  Quick as a wink, Baggy’s practical moment is gone. I take a deep breath, wondering why I am always stuck being the Debbie Downer voice of reason with these two. For once, it would be nice if I were the one throwing the fits and announcing that I’m staying on permanent vacation. Alas, it’s not meant to be, I decide, before jumping in to state the obvious.

  “We can’t do that,” I tell them matter-of-factly. “It’s time for us to get back to the real world.” Two blank stares gaze back at me, so I forge on. “Besides, they probably have our room rented out,” I try.

  “Maybe, but we could always stay with our men.” Baggy waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

  I don’t allow myself to think about how awesome it would be to stay at Kai’s beach house. The nonstop temptation to make love would probably kill us both. I turn to Ruthie. “We need to get back to work.”

  “I’ll give Jesse a call at the bar,” she says flippantly. “I’m sure he won’t mind if I take a few more days off. One of the other girls will be glad to pick up my shifts.” I doubt if either of those last two statements are true, but I’m also quite certain that Ruthie really wouldn’t mind if she lost her job at the Thirsty Dog Saloon. She’d find something else. She always lands on her feet. I, on the other hand, have a job at an accounting firm where people will be very upset if I don’t return on schedule. Unlike Ruthie, I care about inconveniencing others, and I try my best not to ever do it.

  I can’t believe we are even discussing staying. I have responsibilities and people who count on me, and I’m a grown-up—unlike these two, who apparently think they can stay on vacation forever. “It’s kind of expensive here,” I point out, but even as I say the words, I know it’s a moot point because money is never a consideration for Baggy.

  I’m not sure where her never-ending supply of hundred-dollar bills comes from, but she never seems to give a thought to the idea that they might one day run out. Maybe she prints them in her basement, I think crabbily before chastising myself. Baggy is wild and crazy and unpredictable, but she is also honest and loyal and faithful. She would never do something blatantly wrong like that—she’s more of a “gray area” wrongdoer.

  “Pish-posh.” Baggy waves off the money issue
like I had anticipated she would. “I’ll pay for everything. Don’t you worry about it, sweets.” She pats my cheek. “I’ll go down and see if our room is available for a bit longer.” I can’t help but wonder what she considers to be a “bit.” I briefly consider calling my office and telling them I have some tropical-sounding illness, but I just don’t have it in me. The idea of telling them the truth—that I’m having a wonderful time and want to stay here longer—is not a viable option.

  I shake my head. I can’t believe these two have me trying to work out scenarios of how to stay here. “No,” I say vehemently. “I can’t stay here. It’s time to get back to the real world.”

  Ruthie looks concerned as her eyes swoop between the two of us. “I’ll just go check how long the room is available,” Baggy announces before sailing out the door.

  Chapter 26

  Ruthie beelines for the bathroom, presumably to get away from me angrily stuffing items into my suitcase. I’m not sure why I always have to be the responsible one with these two. You’d think for once—like maybe on my honeymoon—I’d get to be the carefree, spontaneous one.

  I guess it just isn’t meant to be. Apparently I don’t have it in me. I shouldn’t blame Baggy and Ruthie because I didn’t inherit whatever loosey-goosey gene that allows them to not think about consequences or mundane things like jobs and bills. I wish I could do it, but I just can’t. If the temptation of spending more time with Kai in Hawaii can’t beat the sensibility out of me, I guess nothing ever will.

  I try placing my paintings flat on top of my belongings in the suitcase, but I must not have packed as orderly as I did on the way here because the bag won’t zip around them. Reluctantly, I decide to roll them up and place a soft ponytail holder around them. I’ll carry them on board the plane by hand. It’s not an ideal solution for my canvases, but it will have to do. At the last minute, I decide to leave one of them out of the scroll.