Bad Boys for Hire_Ken_Hawaiian Holiday

by Rachelle Ayala

  He winced at the nickname. “Hey, I tried for Prince Charming, but all I got was the pumpkin part.”

  “Oh, I remember that pumpkin, but forgot it was you.” Jolie twisted her lips. He wore an orange costume and pushed a wheelbarrow that stood in for the carriage. Hey, it was an elementary school play, and they had to improvise.

  “I’m rather forgettable.” He blinked and flattened his lips. “Except when people made fun of me. I was fat, wore old-fashioned clothes, never had a haircut and I stunk.”

  “You didn’t stink,” Jolie said. “But look at you now. You’re in great shape. What happened?”

  “We moved to San Diego after my parents’ divorce was final, and my mother married a surfing instructor. He took me under his armpit.”

  “As opposed to his wing?” Jolie licked her lips. She couldn’t argue with the results. This new Ken was a chiseled hunk, and not only that, he didn’t parade around as if he were God’s gift to women.

  “The truth is, I’ve been liking you a long time, Jolie, and when I realized how close you came to being married, I had to make my move. Getting back to your question about what happens after the honeymoon’s over …” He smoothed his fingers through her hair. “I’d like to keep seeing you.”

  “How many times a week?” What’s your hourly rate? Gah. She sounded like she was interviewing a sex therapist.

  “As many times as you can fit me into your schedule.” He lowered his lips toward her and kissed her.

  And budget.

  “Isn’t your time valuable? Do you work a job or anything regular?”

  “Not regular, but I do get called away on business some evenings.” Ken winked. “When I’m not working, I’m all yours.”

  She would probably be his most lucrative client.

  “What kind of work?”

  “Odd jobs, here and there.” He pulled her on top of him. “Shall we try another position?”

  Even though he hadn’t answered her question, Jolie nodded. Heck, if he were giving her a freebie to hook her into paying for his services, she might as well take advantage of it, but once the honeymoon was over, she’d have to go cold turkey. As if being a jilted bride wasn’t enough, she wasn’t so desperate that she had to hire escorts for sex.

  Eighteen

  The beaches at Waikiki were crowded, as expected, but Ken rented a longboard and waded with Jolie into the gently rolling water. She was wearing a hot pink bikini which had him hankering to tear it off her, not that he hadn’t gotten enough sex the night before. Correction. He could never get enough of her. It wasn’t only her delectable body, her great tits, and awesome shape, but also the way she challenged him, holding him accountable, and making sure he had honorable motives. She wasn’t a woman to be toyed with, not after what Warren had done to her, and tonight, he’d go ahead with the surprise he’d tried to improvise the night before.

  He scanned the hordes of beachgoers, wondering where her ex had gone. Everywhere he looked, men were ogling his fire goddess, but he wasn’t the jealous kind. After all, when one grew up being mocked and laughed at, it was pretty cool to be seen as the lucky bastard with the red hot bride.

  “Let’s get you used to the board first,” Ken said once they were in waist-deep water. “You can lie on it, and I’ll push you out there.”

  “How many feet are the waves?” Jolie asked, biting her lower lip and squinting toward the ocean.

  “Does it matter?” Ken asked. “Hawaiians measure waves different from mainlanders who stretch and exaggerate wave height. When Hawaiians say three to five, everyone else says six to ten.”

  “Oh, but how high do you think they are?”

  Ken smirked, nodding. “One to two feet, baby waves.”

  “You’re kidding,” Jolie said. “Then I’ll tell everyone they’re two to four feet.”

  He held the board for Jolie, and walked her out beyond the breaking waves. He explained how she had to get the rhythm of the wave, knowing when they were about to break and anticipating it, so she could paddle into position to ride it.

  Once she got onto the board, belly down, he gave it a push. “Paddle now.”

  She missed the wave, while several kids next to her caught it and rode off.

  “Next time, paddle faster. You don’t have to stand just yet, but I want you to get the feel.”

  She paddled as fast as she could, but if Ken didn’t push her, she missed the wave. Meanwhile, the people around her were all catching waves, even the little kids.

  “This board’s too big,” she complained. “Why don’t we get one of the smaller ones?”

  Ken threw his head back and laughed. “The waves are too gentle for shorter boards. Besides, longboards are more stable.”

  Jolie slid off the board. “Then let’s see you do it.”

  “Seriously? You’re challenging me?” He roped her around the waist and burned her with a deep, searching kiss.

  Jolie groped the muscles bordering Ken’s waist while her lips did a slow tango before breaking off and pouting. “I’ve never seen you surf. You say you’re a big wave surfer, these ankle biters should be no problem.”

  “They aren’t. Get on the board. We’re surfing together.”

  “What? How?”

  “You’ll see. Get in front and lie down, then I’ll mount you." His breath sizzled with a mischievous grin.

  “Sure we won’t get arrested for indecency?” Jolie took the surfboard by the rails and crawled back on.

  In a single motion, Ken was in back of her, his chest over her legs, and his face right above her butt crack.

  “Now, start paddling. We’re going further out to the bigger break.”

  Jolie stared at the horizon where the sailboats and catamarans were flitting about. A large outrigger canoe paddled by them, bouncing up and over the waves without flipping.

  Together, they paddled beyond where the children were and joined the lineup at a long, rolling wave.

  “I’m going to turn and get us in position,” Ken said. “You stay on the board, and then paddle as hard as you can.”

  “Then what?” She held onto the board, bobbing up and down in the water. “How deep is it out here?”

  “Not over your head. Ready? Paddle. It’s a beautiful right-hander, I hope you put your left foot forward.”

  “What? I’m standing? But …” Jolie hadn’t gotten the words out when Ken tugged her up, and she was surfing.

  Wow! She held her hands out to the side and her hair fluttered in the wave. Best of all, she was safe with Ken’s steady hands on her waist.

  Could this honeymoon get more perfect?

  She leaned back and relaxed, letting Ken guide the surfboard. Maybe she could stay out in the surf forever and let him steer and guide her entire life.

  The way he treated her, always touching, considering, and gazing at her as if she were precious, was something no woman was immune to. Except she had to know whether he’d really put up with her for the long haul, or was this honeymoon soon to be over?

  Nineteen

  “Will you still have my surprise?” Jolie asked Ken as soon as they stepped onto the elevator that evening. They’d had dinner at another organic, gluten-free, no eggs, no dairy, no nuts, bar and grill, and were ready to watch a movie and chill out in the hotel room.

  Ken tapped Jolie’s pert and freckled nose. “You’ve been bugging me about your surprise all day. What about my surprise?”

  She tipped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “You’ll get yours, don’t worry.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’ll come up with. But if we need to go to the grocery store, let me know.”

  She poked his hard abdominals and giggled. “Is it you or your stomach I’m surprising?”

  “The way to a man’s heart is his stomach.” He grasped her around the waist and pulled her close.

  “It’s not your stomach that’s hard right now,” Jolie said as the elevator arrived at their floor. “I bet you have no clue what the way to
my heart is.”

  “You’ll see.” Ken took her hand and together, they sauntered to his door.

  He opened the door and watched Jolie’s jaw drop and her eyes pop wide. The entire room was decorated with pink streamers and pink balloons. Pink rose petals were spread all over the white bedspread, and a pink champagne bucket was sitting on the table.

  “What is this?” Jolie tugged his arm. “Why’s everything pink?”

  “To hide the clues.” He picked up a card on the table and handed it to her. “Let’s see if you can find your surprise. I’m going down to the bar. Text me when you’re ready.”

  “When did you have time to set all this up?” Jolie blinked at the decorations.

  “You didn’t really think I fell asleep on the beach that long, did you?” He pecked her cheek.

  “You snuck off and left me on the beach alone?” She stretched, still relaxed from her post-surfing nap.

  “Alone on Waikiki? Not a chance.”

  “Sure, there were people around, but they were strangers. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  “Because then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her a nudge. “Go ahead, open the card. But first, let me get out of the way.”

  He swung himself out the door and closed it before Jolie had a chance to question him. She started after him, but stopped herself.

  Her heartbeat tripled in speed and she patted her chest. Why didn’t he want to see her unveil her surprises—unless he was pulling pranks on her? She’d better be careful about sitting on the bed. He could have filled it with tiny cups of water. As for the toilet, there could be Saran wrap across the bowl. Ha, she knew every trick in the book, thanks to her Bumblebee besties.

  Slipping her finger under the envelope flap, she extracted the note.

  To my dearest bride, every minute I’m with you is like flying high. You’re a real treat for a lucky guy. Peel back the sheet for your first sweet.

  The corners of Jolie’s mouth crinkled up and warmth rushed over her chest. So, this was a scavenger hunt.

  She was still prepared for a jumping snake or spider toy to spring from the sheets, so she carefully peeled back the sheet, scattering some of the rose petals, and found a box of her favorite vegan chocolates: no nuts, no dairy, no gluten, no eggs. A pink ribbon was tied around the box.

  “Oh, Ken, you’re unbelievable,” she whispered as she untied the ribbon to reveal the smooth round globes of truffles. She took one and bit in, unable to stop humming her pleasure.

  A note was tucked underneath the paper.

  My bride, you’re one sweet cookie, especially for this rookie. For your next clue, look for something not borrowed, but blue.

  Something blue? Jolie peeked around the room. Every decoration was pink from the banners to the streamers to the balloons. She walked around the hotel room. The artwork on the wall was of paradise, with hula girls, outrigger canoes, and of course, the deep blue ocean.

  One picture showed a surfer tearing down a giant wave. A pair of earrings were taped to the glass over the picture.

  Silver wire was wrapped around the aqua blue sea glass. A card attached to the earrings called them mermaid tears.

  “They’re beautiful,” Jolie said. “Ken, why aren’t you here to watch me put these on?”

  She removed the earrings she wore and replaced them with the blue sea glass. A note was attached to the back of the earring card.

  Dearest bride, looking at you never makes me blue. I get such a cheer when I touch your hair. My next favor for you to savor is full of rubs. Take a peek in the tub, if you dare.

  So far, so good. Every surprise had been sweet and precious. Jolie’s heart thumped as she pulled the shower curtain back.

  A gift basket full of soaps, bath mitts, brushes, bath oil, and a loofah was wrapped with a seashell necklace.

  All the lotions and oil were hypo-allergenic. Smiling, Jolie pulled the basket from the tub. A coupon for a spa massage for couples was also included.

  “Ken, you’re so sweet. What am I going to do with you?” Jolie unfolded the notecard.

  My bride of life. Don’t let all these gifts get to your head. What I want is your loving heart. Now do your part and let’s get wed. Text ‘yes’ to be my wife.

  She turned the card over, but there was no further clue. Her pulse thundered and heat flooded her veins. Was this another one of his hinted proposals?

  Her heart thundered and her eyes darted around, waiting to see if he’d jump up and yell “surprise,” or sweep her into his arms, and assure her this was real, that he wanted her—allergies, OCD, and all.

  Silence warred with her hopeful, but ultimately stupid heart. What had Nikki said? That she was too trusting? That she should test men before believing their sweet words?

  Men did not propose to women they barely knew.

  Especially men who aspired to be actors and worked for an escort agency.

  Jolie set the basket on the sink and found her cell phone. All her spidey senses were a jumble, and she definitely was not going to text him to accept a proposal. Whatever happened to the bended knee and the ring?

  Not that Warren had done the song or dance. But even he at least had taken her to a jeweler and had her choose her own ring.

  She brought up her cell log and called Bad Boys for Hire. It was time to get her head out of the clouds and face the truth.

  “Bad Boys for Hire,” a male voice said. “How may I help you?”

  “I left you a message about hiring a beach bum or surfer for my Barbie and Ken beach party. Is there one available?”

  “We have one who’s a professional surfer, but he’s out of town right now.”

  “Oh, bummer. Would you happen to know when he’ll be available?” Jolie’s hands tightened into fists. So, Nikki had been lying to her.

  “He should be back from Hawaii next week. When’s your party?”

  “Not for a while. What’s his name?”

  “We don’t give out this information without a contract. If you’d like to stop by, I’ll be happy to help you.”

  “Thanks, but I want to know what I’m getting before signing up,” Jolie said as a sickening feeling engulfed her stomach.

  “His picture’s on our website. Got good reviews, too.”

  Jolie thanked the man and hung up. Tears dripped down her cheeks. What a fool she’d been.

  Ken was bought and paid for, and worst of all, he hadn’t told her the truth. Even if his intentions were good, he’d played her emotions, toyed with her heart.

  Now she knew what surprise she’d throw on him. She would see whether he truly cared for her or was only in it for the money.

  She called the front desk and asked for a room, then texted Ken.

  Tomorrow’s surprise is on me. Meet me in the lobby at six.

  Twenty

  “You’re going to love my surprise.” Jolie turned the rental car she was driving off the main highway. They’d left Honolulu far behind, and were climbing the switchbacks to a private location beneath the saw-toothed ridges of volcanic peaks, now covered with lush tropical vegetation.

  Ken gripped the safety bar, otherwise known as the ‘oh shit’ handle on the rental, as the little car climbed to higher elevations. Wherever she was taking him, it involved heights.

  Last night had been strange. Rather than thanking him for the surprises, Jolie had moved to another room. All she’d said was he hadn’t been honest with her, and that he knew what she was referring to.

  Could it be his financial situation? After all, he didn’t have much in terms of a job. He still had a few sponsorships from surfing, but they would be gone if he didn’t get back to the big waves. Or it could be his job with Bad Boys for Hire. All she had to do was browse their website and she’d find out he escorted women to parties and events. Maybe he should let her know sex was not part of the deal. The contracts specifically stated that for both his protection and that of the clients.

  “You said y
ou’re up for anything,” Jolie reminded him of his overconfident boast a few days ago.

  “Sure, no problem.” He swallowed a gulp, hoping she couldn’t hear the drumming of his heart. “What’s out here anyway?”

  “It wasn’t easy to line up the guides, but it’s going to be an experience of a lifetime,” she said, turning into a small parking area behind a gate.

  “There’s no sign of anyone here,” Ken said. “You didn’t say to bring hiking boots. I’m not sure what we’re doing so high up.”

  Hopefully, they weren’t hiking up those ridges. The edges of trails out in the more remote areas were not maintained well, and the drops were sheer.

  “I’m not saying anything,” she teased. “It’s a surprise. I liked all your surprises, so you better love mine.”

  Ken surveyed the gorgeous jungle surrounding them. This was not a region of gently rolling hills, but one of sharp volcanic ridges sliced with deep canyons. If they weren’t hiking, what were they doing here?

  He tried to slow his breathing, but his nerves tremored under every inch of his skin. Sweat prickled and he saw dots. Should he tell her he was afraid of heights?

  A jeep pulled up next to them, and two men jumped out. They wore belts and harnesses around their shoulders and waists.

  “Those are our guides,” Jolie said, pulling Ken along. “They have all the equipment we need.”

  “Welcome to Waterfall Walking Tours.” One of the men extended his hand. “I’m Keoni, and this is Alfredo. Have you folks ever rappelled down a waterfall before?”

  Ken felt his eyes bugging out. His heart grew weak, flopping like a dying fish, and his mouth dried. Tingles and sweat prickled his palms and his stomach turned.

  “Not a waterfall,” Jolie said. “But I’ve done it off a skyscraper. It was so much fun.”

  Fun? Ken couldn’t picture himself going close to the edge of a building and looking down. No way was he going off a waterfall.

  “This is the same principle, but we’re going down a wall of water,” Keoni said.

  “Won’t it be slippery?” Ken asked, panic seizing his heart. A wall of water could wash him from the ropes.