Her Perfect Getaway

To Trish, who is always
there

Her Perfect Getaway

Emma Jay

Copyright 2012 by Emma
Jay

Smashwords Edition

CHAPTER ONE

Her Perfect Getaway by Emma
Jay

Elizabeth Black tugged her
smartphone out of the pocket of her khakis, but before the pilot
could give the passengers permission to turn on their electronics,
it disappeared from her hand.

“No, no, no.” Her best friend
Joslyn tucked the phone in the pocket of her own jeans. “You are
unplugging this week. It’s just us girls and we aren’t worrying
about anything else.”

The trip to Hawaii was a
combination bridesmaids trip and a chance for Haven, the bride,to
check on some details on her destination wedding herself. Haven
could only give over so much control before she had to see it for
herself.

But the idea of five days without a
phone made her fingers twitch. Her father had only grudgingly given
her the time off from their production company and he would not be
happy if she didn’t check in.

She hoped Joslyn didn’t check her
luggage, where she’d slipped her tablet. She’d been happy they’d
decided to get their own rooms, and she’d have a few minutes to
herself every day. She loved these ladies, but she valued her
privacy. And the effort would appease her father.

Once the captain gave the go-ahead,
they unbuckled and rose, gathering their things. The children in
the seat behind her vibrated with excitement, probably from the
five-hour flight. Across the aisle, Haven was also fidgety,
probably because she was unaccustomed to sitting still ever. Bailey
rolled her eyes. That was why they’d arranged for Bailey to sit
with Haven—keep her calm. It looked like both of them were wearing
thin.

Her restlessness grew as they
gathered their luggage and watched their fellow passengers trickle
out of the baggage claim area, leis fluttering. When it was only
them remaining, Bailey turned to Joslyn.

“You did arrange for a ride for us,
didn’t you?”

Joslyn lifted her chin at the
implication. “Our tour guide is going to pick us up. Our plane
landed a little early, so he should be here any minute.”

***

“Aaaaannnnyyyy minute,” Joslyn
repeated half an hour later, looking at the glass door as if
willing their guide to come through.

The women had pulled their luggage
closer to the wall by the door, since two more flights had come and
gone in the space of time. Haven sat on her rolling bag, elbow on
her knee, chin in her hand.

“Let’s just get a cab,” Elizabeth
suggested.

“No, because then he’ll be here and
looking for us and—”

“Holy shit,” Bailey breathed when a
man rushed through the door wearing a loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt
and cargo shorts that rode low on his hips, flip flops slapping the
floor.

But it wasn’t his attire that had
Bailey swearing. No. Even Haven, whose fiancée Eric was the hottest
thing on two legs, straightened. The man who headed toward them had
been kissed by angels, no doubt, perfect from his dark wavy hair to
his blue eyes to his angular features to his toned body.

“Please be our tour guide, please
be our tour guide,” Joslyn whispered, and Elizabeth didn’t think it
was because he was late.

“Joslyn Estep?” he asked, his deep
voice a little out of breath.

A shiver went down Elizabeth’s
spine as she imagined him out of breath for a completely different
reason. She tried to ignore it—she had a very healthy relationship
with her vibrator—but her mathematically inclined mind
automatically turned to how long it had been since she felt a man’s
hands on her, a man’s mouth.

The part of her mind that was more
concerned with keeping her pride turned her thoughts away from that
number.

“I’m Max Sullivan. They call me
Sully. We spoke on the phone?” He extended a hand, and Elizabeth
saw Joslyn swallow a girlish giggle as she took it. “Sorry I’m
late. Lost track of time.”

“Picking out what to wear?”
Elizabeth couldn’t stop herself. She was aware of her friends’
embarrassment until those blue eyes turned to her.

“Surfing lessons. No clocks on the
beach.”

Immediately, she thought of him
shirtless on a board. Okay, well, she needed a new fantasy anyway.
She noticed the bits of sand stuck to his legs then, and damn, her
mind went to the scene in “From Here to Eternity.” She lifted her
gaze back to his, startled to find he was still watching her, a
half-smile playing on his lips. He wasn’t as young as she first
thought, which led to another comment, but she held onto this
one.

He reached past her and took the
biggest bag, Trinity’s, and one of Joslyn’s. The women shifted and
gathered their luggage.

“Give me a sec and I’ll get these
loaded, then come back for those,” he said. “I’m parked right at
the curb.”

Since they’d been waiting long
enough to start their holiday, the women ignored him and followed
with their own bags. They stepped into the warm Hawaiian day to see
a newish van with a surfboard strapped to the roof surrounded by
airport police.

“Oy, hey, mate!” Max Sullivan
dropped the luggage to the sidewalk and hurried forward. “My van,
sorry. I was only in there a moment.” He launched into an
explanation about being late, reached for his wallet to discover it
wasn’t in his pocket, then pivoted toward the van and reached for
the door.

An officer intercepted him, and
Sullivan stepped back, hands in the air as he indicated the officer
could retrieve his ID from the glove box. Haven sat down again with
a sigh, Bailey pulled out her phone—which Joslyn hadn’t
retrieved—and Elizabeth edged closer. The airport cop inspected the
ID, then muttered something into his walkie talkie as Sullivan
stood, hands on hips, frustration tightening his handsome
features.

“Can I help?” she asked, unsure of
what she could do, but unaccustomed to standing around
waiting.

Sullivan held out a hand, palm out,
to stop her. She rocked back on her heels, tamping down her
impatience, but just then the walkie squawked with a response. The
officer stepped back from the van, signaling with a sweep of his
arm that they were free to go. Before Elizabeth turned to get her
luggage, she saw Sullivan relax into a smile. He clapped the
officer on the back like they were long-lost friends, and moved
forward to help the women with their bags.

By the time she approached the van,
her friends were in the middle seat—the back seat was folded down
to accommodate their belongings, which Sullivan was loading through
the back—and the only spot left was the passenger seat. She
inspected her friends’ faces to see if they’d planned this, but
they were busy laughing and getting situated, not looking shifty in
the least. Just as well. She could hide her tablet all the better
keeping her bag up front with her. She slipped into the passenger
seat and had just buckled in when Sullivan swung in beside
her.

Suddenly the minivan was absolutely
micro. His broad shoulders filled the space between the seats and
she could feel the heat coming off his body. Worse, she could smell
him, all sun and sea and outdoors. She must have made a sound in
her throat because he grinned at her. She snapped her gaze to the
front and braced herself for his driving.

He surprised her by being skilled
and patient, not racing at a break-neck speed. She wasn’t sure why
she thought he would.

“I’ll take you ladies to the hotel,
let you get settled in, then pick you up for the luau at six
thirty.”

Elizabeth looked at the dashboard
clock. It was almost five now, and she was exhausted, still on
Texas time. But she did want to see a luau, and she was used to
pushing herself beyond her limits.

“I thought the luau was at the
hotel,” Haven said, leaning forward between the seats.

“The hotel has one, but the one I’m
taking you to is better. On the beach, complete with a fire dance,
which the hotel doesn’t allow anymore.” He changed lanes. “We’ll
see the sunset, then the party will start.”

***

Elizabeth didn’t know what she’d
expected when she stepped out of the van at the luau—passenger side
again. But she hadn’t thought she’d find long tables arranged like
the rays of the sun, spreading out toward the beach from a stone
and concrete stage.

Actually, as jaded as she thought
she was, she felt downright giddy being in Hawaii. It was so
different from Texas. While she hadn’t expected it to be the same,
she didn’t expect it to take her breath away, the mountains, the
green, everywhere. Texas was recovering from a drought, and the
hills were nothing compared to the majesty here. She did her best
not to appear a rube but now, here on the beach, palm trees
surrounding them, the nearly white sand, the blue ocean, she
couldn’t help staring, absorbing.

Above them, the sky was streaked
with a rainbow of colors as the sun lit the clouds that gathered on
the horizon. Bailey moved toward the beach, camera in hand, and
joined other tourists snapping madly at the sight.

“It’s better out on the water,”
Sullivan said beside her. “Tomorrow we’ll take a boat out, but I
thought a luau was more suitable for your first night.”

“Do you have a boat?”

“I do, but it’s not very big. We’ll
rent one. I usually go out on my board, take it in for a bit, then
get in some surfing.”

“Are we going to do that,
too?”

His eyebrows winged up. “Are you
asking for surf lessons?”

Was she? “I’m not thinking to catch
a big wave or anything, but maybe it might be fun.”

He looked her up and down and
nodded. “I’ll see if I can work that in.”

In front of them, the sun sank
below the horizon, and behind them a horn sounded. When she turned,
she saw it wasn’t a horn at all, but a young man wearing very
little blowing into a large conch shell.

“Come on. We have seats near the
front.”

The four women followed him through
the crowd to the end of one of the tables closest to the stage. As
they sat, Sullivan holding a chair for Haven, and then Joslyn, as
Bailey and Elizabeth sat across. Sullivan took the spot at the end
of the table, his back to the stage.

Four men dressed in Hawaiian shirts
walked in front of the stage and removed a cover from the sand,
revealing a pile of leaves. They removed those as well to reveal a
whole pig, roasted. Several of the tourists moved forward to take
pictures. As the men removed the pig to prepare it for
serving,

a girl came by to take their drink
order. Elizabeth didn’t miss the appreciative look the young girl
gave Sullivan, who ordered a beer. Elizabeth and the others ordered
everything from Blue Hawaiians to pina coladas, after agreeing to
give each other a taste.

Then the food started coming, huge
platters of fruit, chicken, shrimp, fish, pork, served
family-style. Bailey would ask Sullivan what each dish was, he’d
explain patiently, she’d consider, then spear a piece for her
plate.

“Is she always so picky?” he asked
Elizabeth.

“Incredibly. She exists on coffee
and chocolate, I think.”

“That will come later.”

Elizabeth took a bite of the pork
and the flavor exploded on her tongue. She didn’t usually care for
pork, but wow. She was sure she made a fool of herself as she tried
one thing, then the next, then the next. She sat back to take a
breath, to see Sullivan watching her, amusement crinkling his
eyes.

“You don’t always eat that much, do
you?”

She scowled. “I’ve been known to
skip meals all together. But I can’t remember when I had so much
that tasted so good.”

“We know how to cook
here.”

“But you aren’t from here, are
you?” she asked as a girl in a grass skirt and bikini top set
another Blue Hawaiian in front of her. “You’re
Australian.”