Then Comes Marriage (12 page)

The blonde woman in the floppy hat is facing the bar, back to me. Her shoulders are tense and she’s drumming her fingers on the bar top, waiting for her drink. A gust of wind comes from the ocean, rolling across the sand and creating a wind tunnel through the bar. The floppy hat blows off her head, tousling blonde hair.

I catch it before it gets too far. She turns, thanking me before our eyes meet. Her words die in her throat and her eyes widen.

No way. No fucking way. I mean, I thought that maybe it was her, but I didn’t really think it was possible. I hold the hat out in front of me, frozen like a deer in headlights. I’m not startled or caught off-guard often, and honestly, I’m not sure how to react right now.

“What the hell?” She blinks several times, looking me over.
 

“Rachel?” I’m holding out her hat, just as stunned as she is. I close my eyes. Open them. She’s still there.
 

She leans away like I just showed her an unsolicited dick pic. “I thought that was you.” Her head slowly moves back and forth. “I thought I saw you walking down by the shore but didn’t believe it. Because I’m here and so are you and that’s, uh, that’s…I was joking about the stalking thing before. But I’m not now.” She laughs, high pitched and nervous. “Are you stalking me?” The amusement drops from her face and she looks scared.

“No. I swear I’m not. I wouldn’t stalk you.”
 

“Do you think I’m not stalk-able?”

“Uh.” I tighten my grip on her hat. “I’m not sure how to answer that question in a way that will satisfy you.”
 

I can see her blink behind her black sunglasses. “I don’t know either, except I do and the answer is yes, I would love to be stalk-able. But I don’t want to be stalked.”
 

I can’t help but smile. “If I was the stalking type, you’d be my first choice. But I’m not, and I’m here with family.”
 

“Good answer, and what family? I didn’t see you with anyone, which doesn’t convince me you’re not the psycho-stalker you just might be.”

“They’re inside.” My mind whirls and I struggle to keep my eyes on her face, resisting the urge to check out her body. I steal a quick glance at her boobs, losing that battle. And fuck, they’re nice to look at and would be even better to feel.
 

Stop. She’s engaged, probably here on her honeymoon. Yet, I don’t see a ring. She might have taken it off, not wanting to risk losing it in the ocean or sand. We stand there, staring at each other. It’s awkward yet at the same time, comforting. Which makes no fucking sense whatsoever.
 

I don’t know her.
 

She doesn’t know me.
 

We’ve talked just a few times, and while I know her name, she’s a stranger.
 

“Here ya go,” the bartender says, sliding a pink and purple drink over.
 

“Thanks,” Rachel mumbles and puts a twenty-dollar bill down. “Keep the change.”
 

She brings it to her lips and takes a long drink.

“That’s either an expensive drink or a big tip,” I say.

“Both.” She smiles and takes another drink. Another beat passes and we’re still standing there, looking at each other. “So, uh, when did you get here?”

“A few hours ago.” I take a step closer, getting hit with the sweet smell of coconut. I inhale, unsure if it’s coming from Rachel herself or the drink. Regardless, I want more of it. “You?”

She pushes her hair out of her face with her left hand. There is definitely no ring on that finger. “I’ve been here a few days already.”

“See if I was stalking you I wouldn’t have waited. I would have been on the same flight.”
 

She laughs. “Unless that’s what you wanted me to think. Though if you did get on that fight, you’d be a grade-A stalker because I didn’t fly out of Dallas.” The smile lingers on her face until she takes another drink. “So what are you doing here?”

“Family vacation.” I take another step closer, drawn to her for some unknown reason. I want to keep talking just so I can keep gazing into her eyes that are bluer than the cloudless sky above us. Problem is, being around her is turning me into a bumbling idiot, unable to think and speak at the same time. Because it’s hard enough to breathe when I’m drowning in her. “It was a last minute thing, and I didn’t really want to come but now I’m glad I did.”
 

She presses her lips together into a tight smile. “Why wouldn’t you want to come here?”
 

Is it my imagination or is she leaning in, slowly moving closer?
 

“I, uh…I have a hard time leaving work.”
 

She sips her drink and raises her eyebrows. “I quit my job before I came. Threw my name badge and keys at my asshole boss and said ‘and now my watch has ended’ before walking out of her office without looking back.”
 

I’m about to laugh, but see she’s serious. “I don’t know what’s better, that you’re a fan of Game of Thrones fan or that you actually said that.”
 

She nods. “I was shaking the whole time, but damn, it felt good to say. Though originally I wanted to tell her I was the Mother of Dragons. Out of context, it’s not as badass, and judging from the blank stare I got, my boss hasn’t seen the show or read the books. Plus, setting something on fire while yelling ‘
dracarys
’ is frowned upon.”
 

“I think you acted out what many people only dream about.”
 

“Quitting like a motherfucker. It’s kind of sad so many people hate their jobs, isn’t it?”
 
She motions to the bartender. “I wonder if he ever hates his job? He works on the beach. How can you hate life when you’re literally on the beach?”
 

I laugh and find myself inching closer again. She bites her lip and looks past me at the ocean. The bartender comes over and asks if I want to order a drink.
 

“You should get one of these,” Rachel says, holding up her glass.
 

“Why not? I’ll take one.” I hand her back her hat and reach into my pocket for my wallet. “What’s in it?” I ask her.
 

She shrugs. “I’m not really sure. But it’s good.”

“It’s the afternoon,” I tease.

“Hey, I’m on vacation. If’s always five o’clock here, right?”

“Very true.” She said vacation, not honeymoon. And she’s not wearing a ring. What’s going on? I can’t exactly ask…right? Silence falls between us. She takes another drink, closing her eyes in a long blink, then puts the smile back on her face. Something about her is different, and I don’t mean the shorter hair. “Well,” I start and pay for my drink. “I should go, and I’m sure you have to get back to…to whoever you came with.”
 

“Oh, right. Your family is probably waiting for you.”
 

“Yeah, we’re going to get lunch. See you around,” I say and pay for my drink. She smiles at me once more, and though it’s hard to see behind her sunglasses, that smile isn’t reflected in her eyes.
 

“Bye, Derek.”
 

I watch her as I leave, sipping the ridiculously fruity drink I only ordered as an excuse to stay in the bar with her.
 

No ring.
 

Vacation and not honeymoon.

And the way my name rolled off her tongue like velvet.

Chapter Thirteen

Rachel

“I’m telling you, he followed me here.”
 

“Calm down, Rachel. How much have you had to drink?”
 

“Not enough,” I tell Lauren, pressing the phone against my ear. “I needed a drink as soon as I saw him. Okay fine, another drink.”
 

“Why are you whispering?”

“I might be following him,” I confess, dodging behind a palm tree.

“Let me get this straight,” Lauren says. “You think this guy—who is a homicide detective—came all the way from Texas to Hawaii with malicious intentions and you’re following him?”
 

I pause, sun beating down hard on my pale skin. “Crap. You’re right. Oh my God, he’s going to kill me and get away with it! He knows things!”
 

“Rachel, calm down,” she repeats. “Coincidences do happen, and a lot of people go to Hawaii in the summer.”

“You think it’s just a coincidence?”

“I’m hoping it’s fate.”
 

“You read too many romance novels.”
 

“That’s impossible,” she counters. “You can’t read too much. It’s like drinking too much water. Can’t do it.”

“Too much water can actually upset your sodium and potassium balance in your body and can kill you.”
 

“Stop thinking like a nurse.”
 

“Besides,” I tell her. “He said he was here with his family, and I think he was hitting on me. Actually, I should follow him, find his wife, and tell her the truth. Because she deserves to know.” I step back onto the path but already lost Derek. I suck at this whole following people thing. “That’s the opposite of a romance novel. Cheating husband puts the moves on the wrong girl…that doesn’t make for a good ending.”
 

“Rach, stop. If he’s there with family, then you probably won’t talk to him again.”
 

“You’re right,” I sigh. “Okay, I’m over it. It’s a big island and there are lots of people here. I probably won’t even see him.”

“Well, you might,” she reminds me. “But if you do, move on. Do your own thing, which is…?”
 

“Twin Falls,” I tell her. “I should probably go shower and change. And maybe nap. The sun and the booze is making me tired.”
 

“Set your alarm so you don’t oversleep and miss your trip. Set it fifteen minutes early since you like to hit the snooze. No, twenty is better. You don’t want to be late.”
 

I chuckle. Being late is a capital offense in Lauren’s book. “Okay. Give Ella a kiss for me.”
 

“I will. Go enjoy paradise.”
 

I hang up and go inside the hotel, slowing when I walk past the attached restaurant. Derek said something about eating lunch with his family. I wonder what his wife looks like, how old his kids are. I’m guessing he has two. A boy and a girl, of course. The girl would be beautiful like his wife, and the boy would be a younger reflection of Derek, boyishly cute, with light eyes that make all the third grade girls swoon.
 

I shake my head, world swirling a bit. I’m already planning when I can get my next drink, calculating my time. I have an hour and fifteen minutes before getting on the tour bus that’ll take me to the Twin Falls. Anxiety builds when I get back to the hotel room, seeing the neatly made king-sized bed that was supposed to be for two.
 

The Twin Falls was one of the things I looked forward to seeing most of all. Travis and I joked about taking those iconic hair flip pictures…and sneaking away to try and make love in the rushing water.

My fists clench. Nope. Not doing it. I’m not thinking about him, not letting him ruin this vacation. I close my eyes and lean against the closed door, taking in a steadying breath. Derek’s face flashes before my eyes.
 

Dark, thick hair. Tan skin. A perfect smile, and that southern drawl.
God, that Texas drawl.
It’s slight enough to almost go unnoticed, but damn, sounds good coming from his lips. And while he looked genuinely shocked to see me, he still carried that darkness with him, hovering like a gray cloud that might explode with rain and thunder at any moment.
 

I set my phone and books down on the bed, then undress and go into the bathroom to shower. The first thing I do is turn around and check out the tan lines on my rear. I’m fair skinned with blonde hair. The sun is not my friend. There is a very fine line between tanning and burning when it comes to my glow-in-the-dark pale skin.
 

And that fine line is usually a few minutes of sun exposure with no sunscreen.
 

You’d think after twenty-four years I’d learn, but judging by the red patches of angry skin on my shoulders, today is not that day. I take a quick, cool shower, then dry my hair just enough that it hangs nicely around my face. I’m not used to the shorter length yet, though I most definitely like how much easier it is to style.
 

I put a yellow bikini on under a white sundress, then pack a change of clothes in my large beach bag. My sunglasses, wallet, and sketch pad go in along with it. I set my bag next to the mini fridge in hopes of reminding myself to grab water on my way out. Then I set my alarm just like Lauren suggested and flop down on the bed.
 

The buzz is wearing off, and my mind wanders. It doesn’t take long to get to that weird state between wake and sleep, where my thoughts are half dreams, half reality. Derek’s face flutters before me and I imagine myself running into him and his family. His wife looks exactly like Shana—the girl Travis was fucking the night I caught him. She smiles and laughs, glaring at me from across the room.

Rachel.

His voice saying my name echoes in my mind so strongly I startle awake, thinking he’s in the room with me, calling for me. I inhale, and look around the room. A soft breeze blows in through the open balcony doors. I’m several stories up. There is no way anyone could climb, yet my imagination gets away from me and now I’m sitting up, begrudgingly getting out of bed to make sure no one shimmied up the side of the building ninja-style.
 

I pause when I step into the sunshine and fresh air. The distant sound of laughter drifts up, but most is drowned out by the crashing of waves. I squint and look out at the water. Something dark rises from the water, and it’s either a sea monster or a whale breach. Either way, a chill runs down my skin, both from the beauty and from how incredibly small it makes me feel.
 

The world is a big place. Millions of people, all searching, all longing for the same things. What makes me special? What makes me any more deserving of happiness than the next?