Fly

by T. A. Foster

  Skye pulled her shades to the edge of her nose. “No, I didn’t know that.” She turned another page.

  “What do you think about snorkeling? Do you want to try it?” He sat in his chair, watching a few of the swimmers bob up and down with their flippers helping them stay buoyant.

  “Why don’t you go?” Skye rested the book next to her. “I think I’ll read some more, but you should try it.”

  He looked skeptical. “You sure?” He didn’t like the idea of leaving her on the beach, but he was ready to get some exercise.

  “Yes, have fun.” She pulled the book back to her nose.

  “Ok, but I’ll be right over there if need me.” He nodded to the low area of coral along the beach.

  Bolt stood from the chaise and walked to the rental stand on the boardwalk.

  “Aloha. How is your stay in Maui so far?” A round man with sunscreen all over his face smiled.

  “Aloha. It’s going great.” Bolt glanced back at Skye in the chair.

  “What did you want to rent today? Paddle board? Surfboard?”

  “Just a snorkel set.” Bolt noticed they were already packaged in mesh bags.

  “Do you need one for your wife?”

  A confused look must have appeared on his face. The clerk corrected himself. “That pretty girl isn’t your wife?”

  Bolt struggled with the words. “No, she isn’t.”

  The man handed him a blue set. “I don’t know why not. You two look like a perfect match.”

  Bolt handed him a twenty-dollar bill and took the bag. “Thanks, man.” He turned to see if Skye was watching him. He threw the snorkel set over his shoulder, but he didn’t head for the waves, instead he took a right turn into Whaler’s Village and headed straight to the Cartier store.

  “Ben, this is incredible.” Skye gushed over the private dining table he had reserved.

  They were the only ones on the beach. Gas torches flickered inside their tent, and the table was filled with orchids. Bright fucia and purple petals were scattered along the sand. Bolt admitted he wasn’t much for flowers unless he was giving them as a gift, but there was something about the Hawaiian blooms that were stunning. They grew in the courtyards, donned all parts of the resort, and the staff handed them out like candy.

  Their first night in the suite Bolt laid Skye down on a bed sprinkled with white orchids. His entire perspective on the flowers changed after that night.

  “When did you make this reservation?” She inhaled the flower arrangement. He loved that she tucked one behind her ear.

  “This afternoon. When you were reading on the beach.”

  She looked skeptical. “It’s a great surprise.” She slid into her seat.

  Bolt sat next to her. He was nervous. He kicked back the glass of wine their private server had just poured. He needed every ounce of magic in that glass.

  The sun began to sink behind the clouds on the horizon. The sky around them glowed pink and orange.

  “I can’t believe you planned all this and didn’t tell me.” She grinned.

  “You’re not the only one with surprises.” He held the glass for the waiter to refill. He wasn’t going to get drunk, but the wine had a way of calming the queasiness he was dealing with.

  Skye looked on the horizon. “Are we celebrating something tonight?”

  “Why do you say that?” He shifted in his seat. The rock was burning a hole in his pocket.

  “I don’t know. The sunset dinner like Coronado, the wine, the flowers, it’s all so surreal.”

  Bolt realized then that this wasn’t as original as he thought. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t special enough. Someone like Skye deserved all the ‘sweep her off her feet’ moments he could muster. He curbed the speech he had prepared.

  “I wanted to do something for you, that’s all. We’re on vacation. I say we enjoy every second of it.” He held his glass toward her.

  “I can toast to that.” Skye’s wine glass clinked against his. “Now let’s see what this private chef has prepared for us.”

  Bolt tucked the picnic basket in the backseat, securing it with one of the seatbelts. It would be disastrous if their entire lunch, including the bottle of champagne spilled while they took the sharp curves of the Hawaiian island.

  Today they were taking the road to Hana. Bolt asked the concierge about what activities she recommended for two people who had never been to Maui. Other than a luau, the first thing she uttered was, “You have to take the road to Hana.”

  She promised scenic waterfalls, beautiful landscapes, and an adventure that they would never forget. The hotel even provided picnic baskets for the trip. They made planning romance that much easier.

  Skye laughed as she tossed a beach bag on the floor. “I have sunscreen, a blanket, and towels. Do you think that’s enough?”

  “I think that’s plenty.” He tapped his shorts pocket for the tenth time that morning. He had managed to conceal the ring last night when they got back from dinner, but there was no way he could continue living in the same room with Skye keeping that kind of secret. Today was the day.

  “You ready?” He was excited enough to jump over the side of the convertible and into the driver’s seat, but instead he opened the door and slid behind the wheel.

  “You bet. I can’t wait to do this.” Skye pulled out a map from her purse. “I grabbed this from the front desk. It shows where all the waterfalls are along the way.”

  He eyed her tan legs as she slipped into the seat next to him. In the few days they had been in Maui, her olive skin had been sun kissed to a deep bronze. She looked more gorgeous than he ever remembered seeing her.

  “Waterfalls it is.” He threw the car in drive and peeled out of the resort drive. The top was down, Hawaiian music was on the radio, and the woman he loved was next to him. It was going to be the best day of his life.

  The first stop they made was an hour into the trip. Skye squealed at the first waterfall marker.

  “I know there are a hundred of these on the way, but can we stop at this one?”

  Bolt pulled over on the mulch shoulder and they walked through thick brush. On the other side of the path was a trickling stream and waterfall.

  “Ok, take my picture. It’s the first one.” She handed him her phone.

  He laughed. He had never seen her this excited. “Ok. Got it. Let’s keep driving towards the big ones.” He wrapped his hand around her waist and led her back up the path.

  Two hours later Bolt pulled off the main road and rolled along a gravel path.

  “Where are we going? This isn’t on my map.” Skye pulled her sunglasses down to study the blue triangles on the foldout in her lap.

  “Secret.” He grinned.

  They passed fields of sugar cane and a few cottages tucked under tropical foliage. The farther they went off the path, the more worried Bolt became that he had his directions all wrong. He wanted privacy, but he didn’t want to drive off a cliff.

  They emerged in a clearing and he parked near a banyan tree. This was the place. It was the perfect spot. With the engine quiet, they could hear the roar and splash of a nearby waterfall. This wasn’t a little trickle of water. This was a powerful surge of water tumbling into clear blue-green pools.

  “Ben, this is amazing.” Skye pulled the beach bag over her shoulder while he unclipped the picnic basket from its safe seat.

  “Yeah, it’s even better than I imagined.” He walked toward a grassy spot where they could see the ocean on one side and still be close enough to the waterfall to watch its majestic cascade into the pool below.

  Skye spread the blanket over the grass and tugged at the corners. “After we eat I want to take a hundred pictures of this place. I can’t believe we’re on the only ones here.”

  Bolt realized their alone time might be limited. They were off the beaten path, but they were a part of the most popular day trips in Maui. Some other helpful concierge likely doled out the same advice.

  He tapped his pocket before s
itting on the blanket.

  “Skye, I can’t. I can’t do this.” He stood from his seat.

  “What’s going on?” Her eyes darted to his.

  “I had a plan. I think it was a good plan, but I can’t do the plan.” He kneeled beside her, his knee sinking into the Hawaiian quilt Skye packed.

  Skye’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God. Are you? Is this?”

  It all flew from his mouth, none of it rehearsed. “I love you. I’ve never loved anyone, so I don’t have anything to compare it to, but I love you. I want all the things I swore I never wanted—a house, and kids, and you. I want you in my life every single day.” He wasn’t sure how proposals were supposed to go. He didn’t know how this one would go, but he smiled as he saw the tear trickle along Skye’s cheek. “Baby, don’t cry.”

  “They’re not sad tears.” She choked on the words. “I love you too. I have loved you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Don’t you want to see the ring?” He laughed, as he pulled the stone from his pocket. The sun caught specs of the shimmering diamond. “You don’t like it?” He held it toward her, worried from her expression that he had guessed wrong when he selected the emerald cut.

  “No, no. It’s perfect. I love it. I adore it. I still can’t believe this is happening.” She studied the ring. “Is this really happening? I just don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes. Say you want to get married and do the white picket fence thing with me.” He slipped the ring on her finger.

  “Yes, yes, and yes.”

  Bolt pulled her with him as he collapsed on the quilt. The warm Hawaiian sun shining on then, lighting the moment with tenderness. They lay there in a sphere of love, bound by the words exchanged, words their hearts had already known.

  “I was afraid you were going to say no.” He hadn’t realized until he heard her say ‘yes’ how his heart had been on pause, waiting to beat until he knew there was a future with the one woman he couldn’t live without.

  “Are you crazy?” Her lips brushed against his mouth. “And miss waking up to these lips and those eyes? No way I’m turning that down.”

  “You know I have no idea what I’m doing. Absolutely no clue.”

  She nodded. “I know. But that’s why we’re doing it together.”

  He sighed as she kissed him until they were both breathless. Their bodies melting together, their hands roaming with a new hunger.

  “Together.” He liked the sound of that. He didn’t know holding someone else in his arms could make him feel so whole and so alive. That was until he met Skye, and she taught him what it meant to fly.

  Keep reading for a preview of Finding Haven!

  Power. Money. Control. Love.

  He has all but one.

  When movie star, Evan Carlson, discovers his girlfriend’s picture with another man splashed on the cover of gossip magazines, he decides he’s had enough of his fishbowl life and attempts to outrun the media frenzy his relationships have become. Driving until the road stops, he ends up on the remote and quaint Perry Island, where a heartthrob can blend in like the locals and be a beach bum as long as he wants. All that changes when Evan meets Haven Owen, aspiring songwriter and the girl he just can’t get enough of. A summer romance turns into something much deeper and Evan gets tangled in his own web of lies to keep Haven in his life. But when his ex tracks him down, Evan learns there are some things you just can’t outrun.

  Is the cost of love, losing all control?

  Sullen’s Grove. It was only one exit ahead. The burning sensation had crept to both eyes. Eight hours of driving had that effect. There had only been one stop since Evan set off this morning, and he had made that as quickly as possible—enough time to stretch his legs and convince himself heading north was the right direction.

  Evan rubbed his tired eyes before reaching for his cell phone.

  There were ten missed calls and too many texts to count. He gripped the phone in his fist. The tightening in his chest wrapped under his ribs and pressed against his sternum, forcing the clamped breath he was holding to escape through his mouth.

  When he saw the city’s name splayed across the sign in front of him, his hand relaxed its hold on the phone. Ivy wouldn’t expect his call much less expect him to be only miles from her hometown. She always talked about Sullen’s Grove as if it was the most idyllic place in the world to grow up and live. There were oak-lined streets, artsy shops, even a downtown waterfront where you could buy ice cream and stroll along the boardwalk. The whole time they dated, he had never visited. Maybe that was part of the problem. She had tried; she had invited him. So why, after all these months, was Sullen’s Grove the one place he thought he could find safe harbor?

  Pausing before making the call, he debated again whether dragging Ivy into this was such a good idea. She would help, she would want to help, but she didn’t deserve this mess. He tossed the phone into the open passenger’s seat, and twisted the knob on the radio. Ivy would forgive him. Hell, she might not ever know he had driven by without stopping.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her; she was the reason he was headed north and east from Atlanta. She might be the only person who could understand why he had to make a run for it. Let’s be honest, that’s what this was—an escape plan—a full-blown sprint to find freedom. Later. He would call her later. With the Sullen’s Grove exit two miles behind him, Evan eased into the next convenient store he spotted on the side of the road. His legs could use another stretch.

  A woman selling peaches at a makeshift produce stand smiled at him as he pulled the brim of his baseball cap firmly over his eyes and popped the cover on the gas tank. He didn’t think she recognized him. At least, she hadn’t reached for a cell phone. Her attention was on restacking a basket of peaches that had fallen too far forward.

  He felt the tension ease out of his shoulders. He leaned against the blue Jeep that had become his travel companion only ten hours ago. It didn’t matter that he had paid too much for it. Fifteen thousand dollars cash in exchange for freedom was a bargain. Hopefully, the extra money would be enough to keep the seller from sharing the exchange to the tabloids.

  The lever clicked on the gas hose handle. Evan retrieved the nozzle and slid it back into place on the pump. By now, the peaches were perfectly stacked. He sauntered over to the stand.

  “What can I get you?” The older woman had shifted her task from stacking peaches to separating a sack of snap beans.

  He eyed the rows of blueberries, peaches, and a carton of okra. “What do you recommend?”

  The white-haired woman adjusted her visor. “You don’t sound like you’re from here.” She cocked her head.

  “No, ma’am, I’m not.” He swallowed hard, waiting for the inevitable—an autograph and a selfie shot request. He would have to work on camouflaging his accent. It wouldn’t be the first time he had disguised his deep Texas drawl.

  She leaned over the table separating her from Evan, and placed the side of her hand against her cheek to shield the words from any eavesdroppers. “If you won’t say anything, I won’t say anything.” Her forehead furrowed. “These peaches are from South Carolina. We say everything’s local, but it’s not.”

  Evan feigned shock and winked at the lady. “Your secret is safe with me.” He reached for one and tossed it in the air. “So, I guess I’ll take some of those illegal South Carolina peaches.”

  “Good choice.” She placed a basket on the scale and scribbled the weight and price on a receipt. “That will be six dollars.” She picked up each peach and placed it inside a paper bag.

  His wallet was halfway around his hip when he remembered all he had was one hundred dollar bills. “I—uh—do you take hundreds?” He pulled one of the crisp bills from his wallet. The plan was to use only cash, that way no one would see his name on his credit card or ask for his ID. Total anonymity was the game.

  “For a basket of peaches?” The woman looked at the currency as if he had tried to pay with ye
n.

  Evan smiled, realizing the predicament they were both in. He hadn’t bothered to bring anything with him other than a duffle bag and his phone. The longer he stood there, the more he wanted to try one of those infamous peaches. Sure, he was only twenty yards from the convenient store, but he wasn’t about to undo all of the hard work that had gone into perfecting his sculpted form for a bag of greasy chips.

  “How ‘bout this, darlin’? You keep the change, and I’ll take two baskets of peaches.” He placed the bill next to the register.

  “Oh, I can’t take that.” The pitch in her voice climbed an octave.

  Evan didn’t give her a second chance to argue. He grabbed another basket, dumped the fruit into the paper bag, and strolled back to the Jeep. He cranked the ignition and maneuvered onto the highway, giving the produce lady a wave.

  The Jeep was headed east. Now that Sullen’s Grove was in his rearview mirror, Evan wasn’t sure where the road would take him. Eventually, he would run out of road—the ocean was just hours in front of him. He reached into the paper sack and seized the first peach. As he bit into the soft, fuzzy fruit, a trickle of juice ran down his chin. He wiped the nectar from his face with the back of his hand. Settling his athletic frame into his seat, he felt the resemblance of a smile creeping across his lips. Something about not having a destination felt better than having one.

  The night’s darkness wrapped the air and sank into every open space. Other than a few blinking lots on the horizon, it was dark. Evan rolled his shoulders up and back. All the muscles in his arms were tight from twelve hours of driving. The ferry ride was advertised as fifty-five minutes long, so he stepped from the Jeep and strolled to the side of the vessel loaded with cars.

  He had made the last voyage of the night. The ferry service stopped at midnight. He intended to stay in the last coastal village he found at the southern tip of the Outer Banks, but when the road ran out, the waterway could take him one more leg. The extra distance was like the last drink he couldn’t turn down. He needed it.