Dive Into You

by Chris Keniston

  Mouth dry and blood already rushing south at an alarming velocity, Doug swallowed hard, then downed what was left of his scotch. Easy, boy. You’re going to wanna make tonight last as long as you can.

  Emily stood just inside the ballroom, chatting and gesturing to the redhead who Mrs. Everrett had apparently tried to pawn off on most of the male associates of the Big Island Dive shop. The two women smiled and hugged, and Doug swore Emily floated across the room without ever touching ground. What little blood was still left in the head on his shoulders abandoned him completely.

  “I hope you have a rental.” She slipped her fingers into the crook of his elbow. “I didn’t bring my car.”

  It wasn’t a rental, but he did have wheels. Waving his free arm in a broad stroke toward the exit, he bobbed his head. “Your carriage awaits, princess.” The comment may have been overkill but the words simply tumbled out.

  Her slow chuckle and slight shake of her head announced she was no pushover, but the smile that remained had captivated him all through the wedding, and he suspected would be etched in his memory for a very long time. Yep, definitely going to be a night to remember.

  Chapter Two

  What the hell had she just done? No wonder her brother hovered over her like a nineteenth-century royal chaperone. The minute Billy left her alone with a squadron of handsome men, she picked up the first one to catch her eye. Well, the only one to catch her eye. She’d noticed Doug before the ceremony when he’d come down the aisle to take his seat on the groom’s side. After that, none of the men who had offered her a drink or had asked her to dance had captured her interest as much as the navy man who had yet to take off his sunglasses.

  Butterflies swooped in her stomach, and she hoped to heaven she didn’t heave champagne and wedding cake all over his car. They strode up to a classic red Corvette convertible, and she whistled. “Nice.”

  Opening the passenger door for her, he grinned. “I’ve always had a thing for anything that goes fast. I couldn’t resist her.”

  I bet. Emily slid into the front seat and, gripping her small clutch a little tighter than necessary, leaned back and decided it was definitely time to enjoy the ride.

  * * *

  “Where to?” Doug shifted gears and pulled out of the parking space.

  “Turn right out of the parking lot. The Rum Hut is a few miles up the main road.”

  “Rum Hut it is.” He undid his tie and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Ties were far from the norm in a Hawaiian beach wedding, but Lexie’s Boston-bred mother had been nearly apoplectic at the idea of a casual beach wedding for her only daughter.

  Less than ten minutes later, he and Emily were seated in a corner table overlooking the Kona shore. Dressed in a deep-purple strapless dress, she was as stunning as the setting sun behind her.

  The waitress placed a glass of water in front of each of them, then looked to Emily. “Can I get you something to drink from the bar?”

  “Yes, thank you. I’ll have the rum punch.”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  “Any appetizers to start?” the waitress asked.

  “Would you like something?” Doug glanced up from a quick perusal of the menu.

  “I’m still stuffed from all the food at the wedding.”

  “Oh, I love weddings.” The waitress let the hand holding her pad fall to her side and leaned against an empty chair, a sappy smile on her face. “Was it on the beach?”

  “The Royal Reef Hotel,” Emily answered.

  “Oh, my. I bet it was beautiful.”

  “It was.” A similar dreamy look appeared on Emily’s face, and Doug heard the first hint of an alarm somewhere deep in the back of his mind.

  Blowing out a breathy sigh, the waitress pushed away from the chair and looked from him to Emily. “I’ll have those drinks right out.”

  Watching the young woman hurry off to place the order with the bar, Doug had a strong feeling Emily was not at all what she pretended to be and odds of tonight going as expected were slipping. “You like weddings?”

  “I think it’s ingrained in the female DNA.”

  Those little bells in his head grew louder. The odds suddenly tanking. “You seemed to shy away when the bride tossed her bouquet.”

  “Yeah, well. I’m all for marriage and weddings. Hope to have one myself—someday. And a few kids too. But I’m not in so much of a hurry that I need to tackle a line of desperate women to catch a bundle of flowers, then have some pickled bachelor use catching the garter as an excuse to feel up my leg.” She took a sip of water. “I can do without that barbaric ritual, thank you.”

  Doug held back a laugh. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  A hint of pink filled her cheeks, and he decided, on the spot, she was beyond any doubt the prettiest woman he’d ever seen. And accepted that getting friendly with the natives wasn’t going to happen tonight. Not with Emily. Just then the waitress returned with two tall glasses, each sporting a paper parasol, and he thanked his lucky stars none of the guys were here to see him drinking this froufrou drink or he’d never hear the end of it.

  “To someone else’s wedding.” Emily raised her glass.

  “And Hawaiian sunsets.” Their glasses clinked, and he took a swallow, surprised to discover the drink did indeed pack a punch. “Any reason in particular you’re in an antiwedding mood when you’ve just admitted it’s in your DNA to like them?”

  She took another long, slow slip and shrugged one shoulder. “No reason.”

  Right. And sailors didn’t like R & R. “What do you do when you’re not avoiding getting married?”

  She smiled. “I teach high school.”

  “Any subject in particular?”

  “Ninth- and tenth-grade math. I’m also in charge of the school play.”

  “Drama? Isn’t that a little out of the ordinary for a math teacher?”

  Emily gave a low rumbled chuckle that made him want to laugh along even if he didn’t get the joke. “It’s the summer musical. And though the head of the English department is great at gerunds and infinitives, he’s totally tone deaf and not so good at directing a play. Which might explain why we’ve had limited success with our little productions in the past. But last year Phil was diagnosed with prostate cancer just as tryouts began.”

  Doug must have grimaced because she raised her hand and shook her head. “He’s doing quite well. His prognosis is excellent, but all the other teachers had young families and couldn’t take on the task.”

  “And you got the job.”

  “I did.”

  “And the production was a rousing success.”

  Her brows dipped in confusion. “How did you know?”

  “Logical conclusion. Phil is doing well, but you have the job again this year.”

  “Ah.” She took the last sip of her drink.

  “Would you like another?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Doug waved over the waitress. “We’ll have two more rum punches and a mixed starter platter.”

  He had no objections to a tipsy partner, but there were rules decent men followed about fraternizing with women who had overimbibed, and, just in case, he wasn’t taking any chances. Half a platter and two rum punches later, with his pants rolled up and his shirt unbuttoned, Doug found himself strolling along the shoreline listening to Emily recount in picturesque detail every challenge of directing a high school musical. And she had him smiling wider with each catastrophe.

  “I felt really bad for the poor kid. He was trying so hard to fix her mic and not touch her or even look. I practically chewed my lower lip to keep from laughing.”

  “So let me see if I got this right. The homecoming queen, a very attractive young lady, is the lead and the only way for…what was his name?”

  “Tim Preston.”

  “The only way for Tim, the sound guy, a no doubt hormonally overdosing teen, to fix the mic was while she was doing a costume change.”

  “That’s rig
ht. So she was oblivious, hurrying to strip out of one dress and into the other—and poor Tim.” She laughed. “I swear his eyes almost fell out of his head before he looked up and tried to fix it without watching her undress.”

  “I agree. That’s torture for a sixteen-year-old.”

  “Especially an honorable one.”

  “Okay. I’ll give you that. But I bet he peeked.”

  “Nope.” Her sandals dangling from one hand, Emily kicked at an incoming wave. “I was there. He was a true gentleman.”

  “You like him.”

  “I do. There’s something about him that makes him special. Besides his IQ of 185 and the way he trips over his words like a five-foot circus clown with size eighteen feet.” Despite her words, only admiration gleamed in her bright eyes. “All I know about his family is that his dad works a lot and there’s never any mention of a mother. I’m not sure he gets enough support from home.”

  The description of the smart kid’s home life pricked unexpectedly at Doug. Tough situations always did.

  Glancing up at the stars, Emily blew out a heavy breath before returning her attention to Doug. “Tim really is so gifted, but I fear terribly underappreciated. I probably worry too much about him.”

  “That’s the story of every high school genius. I doubt anyone had a clue what would become of Bill Gates or Mark Zuckerberg.”

  “True.” Stopping to gaze around, Emily took in the quiet length of dark beach on either side of them, looked a second time, then bent over. Before Doug could move, she shoved a broad rush of water in his direction.

  Laughing, he grabbed her by the waist. “Ha. You asked for it.” Then he spun her around, dragging her feet through the ebbing wave.

  Water splattered all over both of them, and she let out something between a shriek and a giggle. “I should warn you. I’m the youngest of four children. I don’t fight fair.” With both hands she shoveled the sprays of an incoming wave in his direction.

  “You leave me no choice.” Looping his arm around her, this time he pulled her smack against him and, waiting only a split second to catch his breath, captured her mouth with his, leaning her back in a silent-movie-style dip just as an incoming wave crashed against them.

  Even if offered all the oil wells in Texas, Doug couldn’t have said whether it was the force of the kiss or the water, but, arms and legs tangled, they fell over onto the wet sand, and kissing her again seemed more important than his next breath. Except the sound of the incoming wave roaring to shore had him taking hold of her hand and pulling them both to their feet.

  The wave crashed at his ankles, and, with eyes full of mischief, Emily sprouted a sudden smile, bumped him into the water and, giggling like a schoolgirl, sprinted away from any possible retaliation. Scrambling for his footing, doubled over with laughter, Doug took off after her.

  Still grinning, Emily reached dry ground and dropped to her knees. Doug fell in beside her. Sopping wet and covered in sand, he didn’t care about the ebb and flow of the waves; he had only one objective. Easing her down against the white sand, he rolled over, trapping her beneath him and pressing his lips to hers, he took in the sweet and salty taste of Emily, the high school teacher.

  * * *

  This was what she’d craved after years of always being the nice, hardworking, reliable and dependable little sister. Fun, frolic, spontaneity and an exciting man who was everything her brother had warned her against. When Doug had finally removed his sunglasses to read the menu, she’d almost dropped her jaw on the table. Crystal-blue eyes with flecks of gray twinkled merrily at her. It was all she could do to keep her wits about her and not lunge across the table to have her way with him.

  Then, fueled by rum punch, she’d braved a walk on the abandoned beach with the handsome stranger. But she’d long ago sobered up, and now she was drunk with the taste and feel of this amazing specimen of the masculine gender.

  Covered in sand, she ignored the scraping at her back as their mouths melded together, his tongue tangling with hers only to slide out and back in, further teasing her already heightened senses. She wanted to feel this man beneath her fingers, to see if he looked as good under the layers of clothes as she imagined, but the grains of sand at her fingertips made a scratchy mess of her plans.

  In a sudden move, Doug rolled them over. His arms no longer holding him up, his hands were free to roam across her back and down her side to settle on her bottom. When he pulled her close to him, she felt the strength of him against her and knew this was not the place to be for what she wanted to do to him. “Doug.”

  “Hmm.” His fingers returned up her hip and across her back.

  “We need to find someplace more private.”

  “Mmm hmm.” This time his hand slid between them to brush against her breast, and she almost forgot they were on a public beach. His mouth pulled away from hers to nibble lightly at the corners of her mouth and mumble, “How far away do you live?”

  “Not very.” She’d have asked if his hotel was closer, but her mind wasn’t firing on all pistons, and calculating whose bed they could get to faster didn’t seem to be an option.

  “Good.” He gave her one quick peck before sucking in a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

  It took everything in her not to run back to the car. At first Doug had shortened his gait for her, but, by the time they reached the street where he’d parked, they’d fallen into a step just short of a jog. Rather than wait for her to put on her shoes and cross the sidewalk, he scooped her into his arms, gave her a mind-numbing kiss, and then set her down in the passenger seat.

  “Which way?” he asked.

  She pointed to the right; he shifted gears, and, when he threaded his fingers with hers, she bit back a smile. He was driving at a higher speed than he had when they’d left the wedding, and that was just fine with her. Her motor was running faster than the horsepower under the hood.

  “Turn here.” He cut the corner on two wheels, and Emily wondered for just a moment if he’d ever been a driver in the navy. She hadn’t gotten around to asking him how he knew Jim. She hadn’t wanted to know. She preferred the mystery. Every woman deserved at least one night with an illusion. “You can park next to the white car there.”

  Doug had the engine off, the car door open, and had circled the hood to her side before she’d had time to gather her purse and find her keys. At the front door she feared her hands were shaking too much to get the key in the lock. No sooner than they had slipped inside and she had closed the door behind them, Doug pulled her into his arms and once again had his mouth on hers. Not the tender touch of earlier, testing the waters, but a hot, wet and desperate joining that had all her nerve endings on fire and her heart pounding against her rib cage.

  His hand eased down her side, along her hip, and the rough sand still clinging to her wet clothes scratched against her skin. It took all her will to pull away from his embrace. “Last one in the shower is a rotten egg.”

  Doug’s laughter rang behind her. Shimmying out of her dress, she hobbled down the hall on one foot and kicked off the garment the rest of the way when a strong arm wound around her. Pulling her in for a quick kiss, he scooped her into his arms and carried her through the doorway to the bathroom. Had she called him an illusion? No. Not this man. Tonight he would be her dream.

  Chapter Three

  The clock radio on the night table sounded off, blaring that song about what doesn’t kill you, and sent Emily spinning out of strong arms to slam the snooze button. Strong arms? Oh, yeah. That wonderful dream of a handsome navy guy keeping her awake and exhausted until the wee hours of the morning was no dream.

  But dragging the night further into morning wasn’t an option. She had to be at the school in half an hour. “There’s a short rehearsal this morning.”

  “On Sunday?” Those muscled arms reached out and curled her into his side.

  “Mmm. For the chorus line. Most of the girls are learning tap for the first time, and today was the only time the volunteer
dance teacher could come help.” And Emily was the only authorized staff willing to give up her Sunday morning to unlock the doors and supervise. If only she’d known. “I need to get dressed.”

  Magical lips nibbled her neck, and she wondered how awful it would be if she canceled rehearsal. And then she contemplated how to explain to all the parents—and her mother when news got back to her—that Emily wasn’t sick at all, just lingering in bed with a sex machine. Oh, heavens, and her brother. Billy would go ballistic if he knew she’d slept with a sailor.

  Okay, it wouldn’t be the sleeping part that would send her brother into orbit. He had to know at twenty-six she wasn’t a virgin, but, especially since their dad had died a few years ago, Billy had become a single girl’s best form of birth control.

  Now came the awkward part. No hard feelings and no begging him for another night. Which would be way easier once he boarded his flight back to Pearl. Out of sight, out of mind. That would be her new mantra. All she had to do was leave the bed, smile and get the hell out the door before she made a fool of herself. But, damn, she didn’t want to go.

  She’d never done a one-night stand before or hooked up on a first date. Well, actually she wasn’t sure last night could technically be considered a date. Either way she had no idea what the protocol was. Sliding her legs off the side of the bed, she considered what to say. “Do you have a flight to catch?”

  Sitting up and blinking, Doug squinted as though trying to focus. “Uh, no.”

  “Oh.” Was that a good thing? Would he want to see her again? Should she see him again? Could she avoid it? After all, he knows where she lives. “I’ll just…” She looked around for something to put on. Most of her clothes were strewn down the hall. Her nightgown was in the bathroom. The bathrobe she never wore hung in the closet. Somewhere. And the idea of walking buck naked to the closet left her totally mortified. Which made no sense. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen every part of her up close and personallike. Unless she wanted to strip the sheet off the bed, leaving him completely exposed—which wouldn’t be a bad idea if she could stick around a few hours—she had no choice but to put on her metaphorical big-girl panties and head for the robe. “I’ll put on some coffee before I hop in the shower. Do you drink coffee?”