“All right, just making sure. After I meet with him I need to go shopping to pick up all the remaining ingredients. They should have room for me to store everything overnight. Tomorrow is baking day—and the rehearsal!”
“I can’t believe the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow. This year has flown by. I mean do you remember me telling you last June that I was engaged? Eeeek! And now the big day is here!”
The waitress walked over then and smiled. “Good morning ladies, and congratulations Ms. Wyeth,” she said, glancing over at the bride-to-be. She set two steaming cups of Kona coffee down in front of us, and I wondered how she knew to bring them before we’d even ordered.
“Thank you. Did Jacques tell you I was here?”
“He may have,” the waitress said with a warm smile. “He’s looking forward to meeting your pastry chef. So what can I bring you ladies for breakfast this morning?”
We each placed our orders, and I took a sip of the delicious brew. “God this is heaven,” I said with a sigh. “I think I need to move to Hawaii.”
“They are looking for a new pastry chef here,” Abby needlessly pointed out.
“I know—trust me, Jacques mentioned that about a hundred times over the phone. When I first spoke to him, when I called again to discuss the supplies I’d need for the wedding cake. They’ll be opening up the job soon, and he seems to be hoping I’ll ask for the position. But I can’t just up and leave—”
Abby protested, telling me this could be the opportunity of a lifetime.
I glanced down at my phone to check the time. We’d both been running late and would have little time to eat before meeting with him. “So, have you figured out exactly what you want?” I asked, changing the subject. “Because like I said, I’m picking up the ingredients today. I already ordered the bulk goods through Jacques, but the rest has to be finalized right now.”
“Well, we definitely want buttercream—I hate fondant, even though it does look gorgeous. And maybe a layer of raspberry cream—that shouldn’t be a problem, right? Although we’re in Hawaii. Do you think I need something more tropical? Maybe like a pineapple coconut thing or something?”
And we were exactly where we’d been a week ago. And a month ago. I sighed. “Seriously, just pick whatever your favorite was. Remember all those tastings we did months back? What did you like then? What did Jordan like?”
“The raspberry,” she said dreamily.
“Then we’re set,” I said firmly. “Who cares if it’s not a tropical fruit? You’ll have plenty of Hawaiian touches and tropical drinks to please everyone. Plus the whole wedding is on the beach. The cake will be delicious, and no one will care whether it has pineapples or guava or whatever else in it.”
“Guava?” she asked, looking thoughtful.
“We’re going with raspberry.”
“You’re right, you’re right. I’m just so indecisive on this. It’s the only decision I haven’t made yet.”
The waitress brought over our orders in record time. I guess there were benefits to knowing the head chef at the resort. She set a steaming plate of sunny-side-up eggs, bacon, and toast in front of me along with a bowl of guava. I definitely could get used to all the fresh fruit they were serving at every meal. I couldn’t recall tasting anything so delicious and succulent in my entire life. Even the diet coke I’d ordered the other day had come with a pineapple wedge perched on the side of the glass. This was tropical living at its best.
“Oh, and guess what?” Abby said, almost as an afterthought. “Jordan’s brother is here—he was able to get leave after all. Jordan asked if he’d help you pick up the ingredients today.”
“Mike?” I asked, wondering how she could have neglected to mention that he’d be here.
“Yeah, he caught a last-minute flight. Didn’t think he could get leave or something because he’s got some temporary summer gig.”
“A gig?” I asked with a laugh. “He’s not a rock star.”
“Well I don’t know what they call it in the military. A mission? A new assignment? Or temporary duty or something? Anyway, he just got here.”
I watched her finish taking a sip of her coffee before replying. “Oh right, Mike is here. I just saw him five minutes ago,” I added nonchalantly. “I’m surprised you didn’t see us. We were right there by the pool, he had his arms wrapped around me—”
“What?!” Abby shrieked, interrupting my retelling of the story.
I smirked, watching her sitting on the edge of her seat, eyes wide as she gaped at me. “I ran into him—literally ran into him as I was hurrying to meet you—not that I needed to hurry,” I added pointedly. She rolled her eyes in return and gestured for me to continue. “And in case you haven’t seen him recently, he’s six-feet of solid muscle. I mean I practically bounced off the guy. He caught me before I could fall over—thank God. But neither of us recognized each other. I mean he looks different—in a good way,” I added with a grin.
“It’s been a few years.”
“Right. So we were just chatting a bit. I mean he was even flirting with me. I’m pretty sure I remember him more as the brooding type.”
“He was just quiet,” Abby said with a laugh.
“So anyway, I mention my name as we’re saying goodbye. And as I’m walking away, he tells me ‘Enjoy breakfast with Abby.’ I mean I just about fell over because I had no idea how he knew I was meeting you.”
“That’s awesome,” Abby said with a grin, taking a bite of her French toast. “Mike always had a thing for you anyway.”
I laughed at the absurdity of her comment. “Mike? He barely ever spoke to me.”
“Jordan told me,” she continued, completely ignoring my comment. “At graduation. But you were dating that other guy then, so I never mentioned it.”
I shook my head as I picked up my toast and took the last bite. “Come on, we’ve got to head over to the restaurant.”
Abby flagged down the waitress and asked for our check. “It’s on the house,” the waitress replied with a smile. After expressing her thanks, Abby left a generous tip as we both collected our things.
“So we’re sure on the raspberry?” she asked as we headed to the door.
I nailed her with a look that could kill, and she laughed. “Just kidding. Let’s go meet Jacques and see what is what with the kitchen. I know you’re going to bake me the most spectacular wedding cake ever.” She jokingly linked arms with me as we walked back down the path I’d come on a short while ago. In just over forty-eight hours my best friend would be married. And even though I loved my life, loved my career, and had been perfectly content yesterday, I found myself suddenly feeling alone.
Chapter 3
“Sorry you got roped into this,” I said, glancing over at Mike as we cruised along the highway in the warm Hawaiian sunshine. He was the picture of ease driving the convertible we’d borrowed from Abby and Jordan, who had rented it for the week. Black shades on, hair still damp from an earlier dip in the pool, and a snug-fitting black shirt that showed off his tanned and toned arms. I could smell the hint of cologne and soap in the air and felt an uneasy flutter at the prospect of spending all afternoon with him. I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs, and caught Mike watching before he met my gaze and flashed me a grin.
“No problem. But seriously, I can’t believe you’re some kind of pastry chef extraordinaire now. Weren’t you majoring in accounting or something?”
“Business,” I said with a laugh. “I didn’t realize you even knew what my major was.”
“Of course I knew. I may have been shy back then, but I wasn’t blind.”
I laughed and felt a surge of pleasure. “Touché. I did work in an office crunching numbers for a couple of years, but it wasn’t really where my passion was, you know? I always loved baking, trying new recipes, creative stuff. Anyway…long story short, I met the owner of a bakery at a party, and I was suddenly working for one of the best bakeries in town.”
“That’s amazing. It’s really cool
to do what you love.”
“I’ll feel better once we have the rest of the ingredients for this wedding cake,” I said with a laugh. “Abby changed her mind…oh about a hundred times, hence the need for the last-minute trip. The head chef at the resort put most of the supplies I needed in with their kitchen’s order. But, leave it to Abby to throw a wrench in things….” I jokingly rolled my eyes and Mike laughed. I liked the deep sound of his laughter rumbling through the car and smiled, turning my head to glance out the window. We were approaching Diamond Head, the large volcanic cone that perched above Waikiki. The views from the top were supposed to be spectacular, and I hoped I’d get a chance to hike up it before my vacation here was over. Then again, Jacque’s offer to work as the pastry chef in his kitchen over the summer had been rolling around in my mind all afternoon. The opportunity sounded too good to be true—spending the summer in Hawaii, gaining experience with a renowned chef, spreading my wings a little.
“Have you been up there yet?” Mike asked, nodding his head toward the dark mass in the distance.
“No, I’d love to hike to the top though,” I said thoughtfully. “Maybe after the wedding.”
“I’ll go with you if you want.”
“Yeah?” I asked in surprise, glancing over at Mike. Granted we never had that much time to spend together before, but he’d barely spoken to me back in college. Now he was flirting with me at the pool, chauffeuring me around, and inviting himself along for a several-hour hike?
“Why do you look so surprised?” he asked with a laugh as he glanced back over at me. I wished he hadn’t been wearing sunglasses so I could see his eyes, but he seemed to take it in stride.
“Oh, you just never said much in college,” I said, feeling a flush come over me. Maybe since we were in a convertible he would think it was just sunburn.
“Well that was a while ago,” Mike replied, his voice deep. “People change.”
“That they do,” I said softly.
“So how long are you here for anyway?”
“In Hawaii? At least two weeks.”
“At least?”
“Well, believe it or not, the chef at the resort has been trying to convince me to work out here for the summer. I don’t know what the deal is exactly with their pastry chef. I think she was going to be on maternity leave, and the replacement didn’t work out. Who knows. He was trying to lure me out here when Abby showed him photos of my work. I mean let’s face it, they don’t let just anyone use the resort’s kitchen.”
“That sounds like a great compliment to you then. And I’m sure it didn’t hurt that you’d already be here in Hawaii for Abby and Jordan’s wedding.”
“I’m sure that helped. But he liked my style and creativity, so he hinted that I could have a job here before I even flew out to meet him. I have to say it’s tempting…but I might be risking my job back home. They didn’t seem too keen on my being gone for the entire summer.”
“If they want you badly enough they’ll wait.”
“Maybe. I have to decide soon though. I’m here for the week after the wedding and then time’s up.”
“You should stay. It’d give me someone to hang out with all summer.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, I thought Jordan or Abby told you. I’m here on TDY.”
“What’s that?”
“Sorry—temporary duty. Military speak. I wasn’t sure I’d even make it to the wedding because I was waiting on my next assignment. It was just bad timing all around—but then the TDY came through, and it worked out perfectly. Hell, after three tours in Afghanistan I could use a tropical vacation,” he added with a laugh.
“I can’t even imagine.”
“Why I’d need a vacation?” he asked wryly.
“No,” I protested with a laugh. “The three tours of duty part.”
“I knew what you meant,” he said, flashing me another grin. “So, it looks like we’re here,” he said, pulling into the parking lot. He climbed out of the convertible and walked around to my side to pull open the door as I gathered my things.
“You’ve got the list?” he asked. “Put me to work.”
“Oh I will. I need to bake a cake for one hundred and fifty people. I need all the help I can get.”
Mike laughed and shut the door behind me. “So…how many shopping carts are we talking? Two? Three?”
“Hmmm…better get three.”
“Seriously? How you going to fit all this stuff in the convertible?”
“Well, let’s make it two then. We’re about to clean them out of raspberries—here’s hoping they have enough. I need to get some other things too.”
“Let’s do it then.” Mike pulled two carts from the nearby cart return and wheeled them over. “Here you go,” he said, positioning one in front of me. “Race you to the door?”
“What?” I asked, looking up in confusion.
“Ready, set, go!” he said, suddenly pushing his cart forward.
“Hey!” I shouted but took off after him in a fit of laughter. No, this definitely wasn’t the Mike I remembered. At all.
***
“So then, the cashier’s eyes pretty much bugged out of her head,” Mike said with a laugh.
“I was buying an entire shopping cart’s worth of raspberries.”
Abby and Jordan were looking back and forth between the two of us as if we were both crazy. The two of them were stretched out beside one another on lounge chairs facing the ocean, matching “Bride” and “Groom” towels spread out beneath them (Abby’s idea). I’d set up a spot next to Abby, and Mike had eventually grabbed a chair near me. The thatched umbrella above us blocked out some of the summertime sun, and after a dip in the ocean, we were kicking back with some frozen drinks.
“Yeah, I’m not sure if the manager liked that so much,” Mike chuckled.
A squeal from the water distracted us, and we looked up to see a guy chasing his girlfriend around in the waves before catching her in his arms.
“Geez, get a room already,” Abby joked.
“Right, as if you two are any better,” I protested.
“We do have a room—the honeymoon suite, thank you very much.”
I smirked and watched as a pickup volleyball game started to form near us. Two of Jordan’s groomsmen, Chris and Jacob, seemed to be rounding up players. “Hey! Get yourself over here man!” Chris called out to Jordan.
“What do you say?” Jordan asked Abby, who leisurely took another sip of her daiquiri.
“Oh, maybe for a little while. Get some cardio in or whatever. You in?” she asked, glancing over at me.
I shrugged. “Sure, why not. We’ve got pedicures in an hour though.”
“You ladies and all your primping,” Jordan laughed. “Come on, man,” he said to Mike, gesturing toward the game. He jogged over to Jacob’s side, Abby sauntering along behind him in a skimpy bikini with the word “Bride” bedazzled across the back of her bikini bottoms. Again—only Abby.
I stood and adjusted my turquoise string bikini. Although it was perfect for lounging around the beach, I wasn’t sure it was quite made for a game of beach volleyball. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and glanced over at Mike, who I noticed was eyeing me appreciatively. “Lead the way,” I said with a smile.
“Mike, good to see you, man!” Chris said, giving him one of those one-armed hugs that guys do. “We weren’t sure if you were going to make it!”
“We couldn’t have a wedding without the best man,” he joked.
“Less talking, more playing!” Jordan called out, standing in position to serve first.
I let the guys stand up front since they were taller and took what I hoped was a relatively unimportant position in the back. I’d last played volleyball back in…high school? Since we had a bunch of people on each side, I was hopeful the ball wouldn’t even come my way. Why had I let Abby talk me into this again?
THWAK!
Jordan served the ball, and I attempted to look alert as it cam
e flying our way. I’d always served underhand when I played before, but Jordan had some fancy overhead serve where it looked like he was spiking the ball right at us. Fast. Chris, who was right in front of me, jumped up and spiked it back. The ball went back and forth a few times, and before I knew it, came flying at me so fast that I jumped out of the way.
“Sorry Erin!” Jordan called out sheepishly as I glanced in the direction of the ball that had just whizzed by my face. Another guy on our team grabbed it from the sand, but Mike walked over, his hand briefly touching my bare arm to get my attention.
“Are you all right?” he asked. Mike towered above me, and he leaned down slightly to make sure that I was okay. We were both wearing sunglasses, so I couldn’t meet his gaze, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from churning through my stomach at his closeness. A stray piece of hair that had escaped from my ponytail blew across my face, and Mike gently tucked it behind my ear, his fingertips leaving a warm trail of heat searing across my skin.
“Be more careful!” Abby shouted at Jordan in the background. “You can’t injure the maid of honor.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, glancing back at Mike. Abby had looked absolutely livid, and Chris was now tossing the ball back and forth between his hands, seemingly eager to get back to the game. “Let’s just get on with it.”
Mike laughed. “All right. I’ll stand back here by you.”
“I’m that bad, huh?” I joked. “Gotta watch out for the team and all?”
He flashed me a killer grin. “Something like that.”
“Ready to play, ladies?” Chris asked with a smirk, glancing over at Mike and me.
“Yes ma’am,” Mike retaliated playfully punching him in the arm. “You and my little brother—always causing trouble.”
“Guys! Let’s go!” Abby said. “Erin and I have pedicures in an hour.”
Jordan shrugged as both Mike and Chris glanced his way.
“Let’s do this!” Chris said, sending the ball flying a moment later.
“Wa-hoo!” Abby shouted as she hit the ball, only to send it flying out of bounds.
Summer with a Soldier (Soldier Series Romance Novellas Book 5) Page 2