The next day is as full of surprises as the last. Jordan and I went jet skiing in the bay, snorkeling from a glass-bottom boat, and we even volunteered to dance at a luau, complete with fire torches and grass skirts.
We also spent a lot of time window shopping, pointing out all the things we would buy if we were rich. I’m beginning to appreciate unsatisfied desires or shopping interruptus, because it’s more fun to hunt for something than to actually shell out the money and fulfill my temporary wants.
It all goes with not needing to get revenge on Stephen by looking like I’m having the time of my life, or buying up the store or dating a ton of guys, but actually enjoying myself for real without regard to how it would play out for an imaginary social media audience.
I’m having a great time playing with Jordan Reed. He’s the most fun guy I’ve ever been with, and the fact that we are now entirely platonic, just like back in third grade, takes the pressure off worrying about the future, or obsessing over whether he has feelings for me or not.
Being a healthy, hormonal woman means I still have the hots for him, but I’m determined to do nothing but tease, because he also is a tease.
Whatever his end game is, he’s not putting on the full court press to get me in bed, and I tell myself I don’t care.
Except, without trying, he’s weaving his way slowly but surely into the very fabric of my heart.
It’s not the big things he does, or the treats he buys me, or even the things he says. But tiny things, like leaving the toilet seat down, slipping a lei around my neck when I wake in the morning, and sleeping next door in Sven’s room after Sven disembarked in Kauai and never returned.
Rumor has it he’s decided to become a surfing god on the North Shore and pose for a sportswear company. I wish him well. He was a good-looking Thor, and I’m sure the sun shines on him with special favor over his golden Nordic looks.
It’s not Sven I care about, but Jordan, who I caught at a pay phone booth in Kona. When I tapped on the glass, he jumped so high, he dropped the receiver and claimed he was speaking to his family—the same people he said didn’t want to hear from him.
What is he up to? I have no clue.
Which is why I’m knocking on Sheri and Joy’s door the day of our last port of call. I tell myself I have everything under control, that this platonic fun with Jordan is all I want and all I’m going to get. But the fight between my head and heart has me confused. I want Jordan to get as much out of this trip as I am. I want to be the person to make him happy, and I wish he’d share more of his feelings and thoughts with me, rather than give me advice and act like he’s fixing my problems and issues.
“Hey, it’s Dani!” Joy exclaims, opening the door wide. “What are you and Jordan planning to do in Maui?”
“We’re driving on the road to Hana,” Sheri says. “Want to come with us?”
They wave me in and I notice they’re having breakfast.
“You look like you want to talk,” Joy says. “I’ll pour you a cup of tea. What’s up?”
I gratefully take the tea and sit in the offered chair. Because the cabin is so tiny, the three of us are huddled around the table.
“I don’t know what Jordan is up to,” I blurt out after taking a sip of tea. “We’re having a great time, but he’s too perfect.”
“You two are still on your honeymoon,” Sheri says. “Of course, you’re still in love, all starry-eyed and cinnamon-rolled.”
“Nothing wrong with a perfect husband,” Joy says, biting into a Danish. “Are you afraid of the honeymoon ending?”
I inhale the warm steam of the tea and nod. “These last few days have been the best in my life, but once we return to Los Angeles, I’m afraid I’ll never see Jordan again.”
Their eyebrows take flight like seagulls spooked by a jumping shark.
“You’re getting a divorce? Why?” Joy asks. “Was he not good in bed?”
“Such a shame,” Sheri adds. “So handsome and hunky, but a disappointment between the sheets.”
“Can you not satisfy yourself some other way?” Joy frowns while fiddling with the cross she wears as a necklace.
“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Sheri hums. “There’s always a snake in paradise, or in this case, a lack of one.”
“No, no, no, that’s not it at all.” I set the teacup on the saucer. “This entire trip is a sham. I’m not married to Jordan Reed. My real groom dumped me, and my best friend invited me on the cruise to cheer me up. At the last minute, she sent her cousin, Jordan, to take her place, and he’s been pretending to be my husband to help me save face.”
Both Joy and Sheri’s eyes widen, and their jaws drop, along with Joy’s Danish and Sheri’s cinnamon roll.
“Oh, you poor thing.” Joy recovers first. “You’ve been living a lie.”
Sheri pats my back, rubbing it gently. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry. What do you want now?”
I bite my lips and shrug. Useless tears well in my eyes, and I hate feeling sorry for myself.
My brain shivers with a nagging thought.
I want Jordan.
But it can’t be. I’m fooling myself.
I still want him.
“I know rebound relationships are risky,” I begin. “I’m not even sure Jordan’s in a relationship with me. He might be getting paid to make me happy, but he’s just so perfect.”
Joy’s large eyes blink in sympathy. “If you want him, you’re going to have to be honest and put yourself out there.”
“No, no, no,” Sheri says. “That’s not going to work. You don’t even know if he’s sincere. I say put him to a test.”
“What kind of test?” I’m plumb out of ideas. While teasing Jordan is fun, and playing pranks on him gives me a perverse satisfaction, he hasn’t been pushed off balance ever since we made that deal to be important to each other.
Not even when his hair was stuck together by the glue I put in his hair gel. The punk laughed it off and told everyone he spiked his hair on purpose.
“You must flirt with another man,” Sheri says. “Or leave the ship. If he doesn’t care, he’ll forget about you and you haven’t lost anything.”
“I still think you need to risk it all and put your cards on the table.” Joy taps the table with her fingernail extensions. “Tell him how you feel. It’s the only way.”
“To get shot down?” Sheri wags her head. “Women should have an air of mystique. Who gets more respect? Cats or dogs?”
“Dogs are more adorable,” Joy says.
“In your opinion,” Sheri argues. “I happen to get along with cats better.”
Joy pats my hand. “Be honest. Open your heart and spill all. Life’s too short to beat around the bush.”
“You’ll never have the upper hand if you do that,” Sheri contradicts her buddy. “Take it from me. I know how to put men in their place.”
“A man’s place is by your side,” Joy says. “Not above you or below.”
“Agreed, but if you subordinate yourself, he won’t respect you. Play hard to get.”
“I’m not telling her to be easy, but honest.”
“You’re telling her to be dumb.”
“If you’re so smart, why are you single and on this cruise with me?” Joy goes on the offensive.
“Excuse me? At least I have failed relationships to show for it.” Sheri stands up in a huff with her hands on her hips.
Joy pushes back from the table. “I wouldn’t brag about failed relationships if I were you.”
I turn my head from one shoulder to the other shoulder. Looks like the good angel and the bad devil have forgotten about me.
“Thanks, ladies, for your advice,” I say, getting up.
They ignore me and trade barbs, going back to junior high school when they first noticed boys and disagreed on their approach.
My goodbye is barely acknowledged, but I’ve made my decision.
Jordan says to be open and honest. He claims to be wise and real. His philosophy is to be yoursel
f and let it all hang out. That’s why his family is offended by what he does, and he’s pretty much an outcast.
Me? I’ve been playing good girl to my family forever, and playacting roles like dutiful daughter, respectful fiancée, and best friend forever.
Today, I’m going to serve the ball in Jordan’s court, and he can either hit it back to me or let it fly over his head.
Chapter 15
After breakfast, I meet Jordan at the theater where everyone gathers before going onshore. Today is our last onshore day. Maui is an island formed by a pair of volcanos, giving it a rugged and diverse landscape of steep, sharp ridges, waterfall-decorated valleys, enchanting forests, secret beaches, and rocky, windswept craters.
Today is also my last chance to spend an entire day alone with Jordan, since the rest of the cruise will be at sea.
“What are we up to today?” I ask Jordan.
He kisses me on the cheek and grins. “Why do you ask when you want me to surprise you?”
“Testing you. I’m enjoying everything you come up with, although the rope bridge was a little scary.”
“If you’re afraid of heights …” He trails off and takes my hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll be with you every step.”
“You’ve been perfect.” I lean against him as we stroll to the railing and watch our approach into the cruise ship port. “The scenery is perfect.”
“As are you,” Jordan says, always flattering me and treating me like a goddess.
“Paradise.” I take a deep breath of the fragrant sea. “I can’t get enough of these views. Joy and Sheri are taking the road to Hana. Are we going to get a chance to see the other side of the island?”
“Your eyes will explode with what I have planned. Just hope your stomach can take it.” He hands me a motion sickness patch. “Not to ruin the surprise or anything, but you should put this behind your ear a few minutes before you need it.”
“Oh, no. I’m afraid of heights. What have you gotten me into now?” I’m still reeling from the swaying rope bridge and the steep cliff trails of the previous days’ treks.
An hour later, I’m strapped to a helicopter seat next to Jordan, wearing noise-cancellation headsets while listening to the pilot describe the sights below.
Takeoff is scary as the rotors whir faster and faster, but once the chopper rises high over the harbor, the ride is smooth, and my heart rate returns to normal—almost.
I hold on to Jordan’s arm and take deep breaths, trying not to worry about crashing. The views are out of this world: sharp volcanic ridges covered with lush vegetation, strips of sandy and rocky beaches, and the blue-and-green jewel-colored water. We skirt the island and then head inland between sheer cliffs bedecked by majestic waterfalls. A rainbow greets us as we rise above the clouds toward the crater of a dormant volcano.
I’m in so much awe, I forget to breathe. It’s hard when my heart is jumping out of my chest, and I’m clutched on to Jordan for dear life. I want the ride to last forever, but I’m so scared I want it to be over.
I get my wish when the chopper touches down on a mountain meadow. The blades blow the tall grasses flat, and I start to panic when I realize this is not the place we took off from.
“What’s happening?” I ask. “Is something wrong?”
“Lunch break,” the pilot says. “You and Jordan are getting off.”
“You planned lunch for us up here?” I gasp, unable to think of a more romantic spot.
“It’s our last day on the islands, and I want to make it last forever.” Jordan leans over and kisses me lightly, reassuring me.
We get off the helicopter and walk to the edge of the meadow where Jordan lays down a blanket and sets a picnic basket on top. I’m expecting the pilot to join us, but the whirring of the rotors startles me.
“He’s leaving us!” I shout over the noise and gape as the chopper takes off. The pilot waves at us, banks, and disappears through a cloudbank.
Before I can properly panic, Jordan covers my mouth with his and kisses me. He takes his time, caressing my lips and stroking my tongue slow and sensuous. His strong, warm hands cup both of my cheeks as he melts every fiber of my body with kisses full of promise.
I sigh as we part for air and gaze into the eyes I want to stare at for the rest of my life. We’re alone, on the top of paradise, surrounded by perfect beauty. Precious seconds of our lives tick by, and it’s only a matter of time before the chopper returns, stealing this wondrous and magical moment.
We walk hand in hand and enjoy the views, pointing at the beauty surrounding us. The colors, the contrasts of light and dark, the rugged beauty and the lushness, the scent of the breeze and the warmth of the sun lull me into a state of bliss.
If there’s a heaven on earth, it’s here. High above the island of Maui, in the arms of a man who believes I’m the only person who matters to him.
My heartbeat accelerates, and I wonder if I’m about to step off the edge and ruin the fantasy by telling Jordan how I feel.
It has to be now, today, if I’m brave enough.
Tomorrow we’re back at sea on the return journey, and it’s going to be bittersweet, a long and silent goodbye.
I can’t get enough of this man, this mysterious stranger who has so quickly and skillfully captured my heart. Whether he’s paid to be nice to me or not, my emotions can’t tell the difference, and I’m in for either a huge heartbreak or the most marvelous mountaintop experience.
“I could kiss you forever,” Jordan says, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. It promptly flutters loose in the breeze.
“Then kiss me forever,” I say, barely able to catch my breath. “I wish I could stay up here forever. Just looking at you, holding you close, and being with you.”
“I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” His eyebrows rise in symphony. “Dani Davison, romance audiobook narrator. You sure do have your lines down.”
“You think I’m parroting?” I put my hand over my heart. “You wound me. I have feelings, too.”
“Your feelings are my command.” Jordan breaks off his gaze and clears his throat. “I’m betting you’ll love the lunch I packed. You hungry?”
“Sure.” My heart lurches and sinks. He’s obviously not picking up what I tried to tell him. He still thinks I’m teasing and flirting, or I’m setting him up for a big fall—pranking his feelings.
I’m going to have to try again and explain myself better—not use romance clichés like the millions of romance novels I read.
“Let’s eat.” Jordan leads me back to the blanket and opens the picnic basket.
The lunch is delectable. We have gourmet salads and finger-sized sandwiches, mini-quiches, and sushi, along with the bubbly champagne.
Everything tastes exquisite, but my stomach flutters and my hands are clammy. I’m full of nerves, knowing time is ticking down and I need to get my true feelings off my chest.
“You seem nervous,” Jordan comments, pouring me another flute of champagne.
“How much time do we have before the helicopter returns?”
He takes a peek of his watch and frowns. “He’s actually late. We better clean up.”
I nod and down my champagne, dribbling a splash on my shirt. The alcohol content isn’t enough to warm me, but I must seize the moment.
Now I know how men must feel, always having to make the first move.
I set my glass down and take both of Jordan’s hands. “I have something important to say to you.”
His face falls and he blinks, eyes darting guiltily. “Uh oh. What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing. You’re doing everything right.”
“I’m glad.” He squeezes my hands and tips his head toward me so that our foreheads touch. “Have I made you happy?”
“Yes, more than I ever imagined possible. These past few days have been paradise. You’ve made me forget all my troubles, and I hope I’ve given you what you wanted.”
“You have.”
I wait fo
r him to elaborate, but he’s not making it easy for me. I swallow and am embarrassed that my palms are so wet while his are dry.
I can hear the rhythmic thudding of an approaching helicopter along with my pulsating heart.
Here goes.
“I have feelings for you, Jordan, and I’m hoping we can keep this going.”
“You mean you like being worshipped?” he quips, and a grin slides across his face.
“No, I want you to be real with me. No more playacting or doing Jade a favor. Just be the real Jordan. And I’m hoping you have feelings for me, too.”
The sound of the rotor blades approach, getting louder, and the wind it generates blows my hair over my face.
“I do.” His eyebrows crease. “I truly do. Whatever happens, remember what we had up here is one hundred percent real.”
I cock my head, not getting his coded message. “Do you mean your feelings for me?”
“Yes, deep feelings. You’ve made me feel like I’m a part of you. Wanted. Desired. Accepted.”
“I’m so glad.” I reach up and stroke his cheek, loving the way we can speak so openly.
His eyes dilate, wide open and intense. “Remember us like this. What I feel for you is real. Don’t ever doubt it.”
“I won’t doubt you,” I say in a swooning voice, my heart bursting with happiness.
He steps back when I expect him to kiss me. Then as the helicopter whirs closer, and the whop-whop-whop of the blades drown out my voice, Jordan takes a packet from his pocket and hands it to me.
It’s an oblong box wrapped with Christmas paper.
“Your gift,” he says. “Open it.”
I rip the paper and open the box. It’s the silky Van Gogh Starry Night scarf I was admiring at the ship’s gift shop.
“I love it!” I extract the scarf and hold it up to admire the curls and swirls of color depicting the surreal night sky.
Jordan smiles, close-mouthed, and dots a kiss on my cheek. “I hope you’ll always remember me this way. Wild, crazy, unpredictable, and different.”
“You speak as if you’re going somewhere.”
“Nowhere but in your heart.” He glances at the pilot who is waiting for us. “We’d better get back to port.”
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