Once a Hero...

by Jillian Burns

He almost took them from her, but he doubted he’d be any faster at unlocking the door. He could barely see straight and his breathing was shallow. The curse word she mumbled might have been the cutest thing he’d ever heard. While she tried the key one more time, he focused on the smooth skin of her nape, left so vulnerable by her ponytail. Setting his hands at her waist, he lowered his head to softly place his lips on her right carotid artery. “Your pulse is elevated.”

  She angled her head to give him greater access. “It is?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He took full advantage, letting his mouth follow the artery down to her shoulder and linger. “You might want to see a doctor about that.”

  “Oh?” At this point she’d given up trying to unlock her door. “Can you recommend a good one?” The last word drifted into a quiet moan.

  “As it happens, I can.” He turned her in his arms, and at last—at last he took her mouth. Her hands slid up his shoulders and she opened to him. Hesitant at first, he kept the kiss light, lingering on the edge of a fierce desire.

  It was Kristen who deepened the kiss, digging her short nails into his scalp. His control almost gone, Luke tightened his arms around her and explored her mouth with abandon. She met his tongue with her own and sent a shock of lust straight to the blood already throbbing between his legs. He groaned and broke the kiss, took the keys and within seconds had the door open.

  Without releasing him, Kristen stepped through and he’d barely followed when she raised her lips to his once more. The kiss was deep, sensual. Profound. She tasted of pineapple and he knew he’d never again taste that fruit without thinking of her.

  He slid his hands around her waist and set about enjoying the feel of her lips moving in and out and over and under his. Playfully, her tongue darted out and touched his. He might have moaned, or maybe it was her, but the sound made him aware he’d left the door open, so he kicked it shut.

  She chuckled, her mouth still beneath his, and he could feel her smile. He smiled with her, reveling in this amazing thing that was happening to him. It was more than just the anticipation of sex, although that was a pulsing need, too. It was a lifting of a burden deep inside just knowing she wanted him, this sexy, fun-loving woman. This wasn’t some quick exhausted relieving of tension with someone between long, tiring hospital shifts.

  “Kristen.” He scooped her up, surprising a short cry from her. He took her to the sofa, laid her down on the cushions and followed her, his chest against hers, his hips pushing into hers. He stared at her beautiful smile and then lowered his head and molded his mouth to hers, taking and giving, deepening and deepening even more.

  Her hands ran through his hair, down his back, and the tips of her fingers burrowed under the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. Need ramped up and threatened his control. He slid his arm out from beneath her, lifted her T-shirt. Still deep in her kiss, he cupped her satin-covered breast.

  She jerked her mouth from his and knocked his hand away. He stilled above her, catching his breath, confused, wary, his hand still in midair.

  She’d squeezed her eyes closed and her arms were folded against her chest.

  He pushed off her and sat on the other end of the sofa. “I’m sorry, did I—”

  “No, it was nothing you did.” She hadn’t moved or opened her eyes.

  “Kristen?” He leaned over to brush her hair off her cheek and she flinched.

  “You know I totally forgot I have to work tonight.”

  Luke hesitated, confused as hell. What had he done? He thought she might at least open her eyes and look at him and smile. This was Kristen, after all. Joyful, blow kisses to the moon and dance in the ocean Kristen. “All right.” He got to his feet, stuffed his fingers in his pockets and stood looking down at her. “I’ll…let you get to work, then.”

  He took a few steps toward the door and then turned around. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Please, Luke.” Her voice was wobbly, as though she was about to cry. “Please just go.”

  How could he leave her in that condition? But he was obviously causing her distress. Without another word he reached the door and let himself out.

  All the way back to his condo he tried to figure out what had happened. Had he misread the signals? Or had he been too rough? All he knew was that the crack inside him that had started letting light in sealed up tighter than ever before. The world seemed darker again.

  KRISTEN STEPPED OUT OF the shower, exhausted from sobbing. As she dried off, she stilled in front of the mirror. Slowly, she opened the towel and studied her reflection. Her body was the same body she’d had since maturing. Except for the long, ugly scars that ran along her right side and under her right arm and breast. And the fake nipple that felt nothing and did nothing.

  Mastectomy had saved her life. And reconstruction gave her some semblance of normalcy. Every day she reminded herself how lucky she was to be alive.

  And she was, but…

  She closed the towel back to hide the disfigurement and felt her face crumple.

  If she thought it was disgusting after all these months of getting used to it, what would a man think of it?

  Coward! She’d never know if she couldn’t work up the courage to actually let a man see her.

  Yes, she knew Luke had probably seen worse. He was a doctor. He served in Afghanistan. He’d probably seen all kinds of horrific disfigurements. Surely he’d be okay with it. And she’d handle any questions he might have with simple honesty.

  That’s what she’d told herself in his Jeep all the way back to her condo. And when he’d kissed her. And when he’d come down on top of her on the sofa. Right up until he’d lifted her T-shirt and touched her. Then she’d frozen. Panicked that he’d be disgusted. Or pity her. Or both.

  Oh, God, poor Luke. He didn’t understand. And she’d been too humiliated to explain. How could she have done that to him? She should go to him and ask his forgiveness and tell him.

  But, maybe it was better this way. He’d be back in Afghanistan in a few weeks, and she’d be back in San Diego.

  She’d just be a memory of some weird girl he met in Hawaii.

  And he’d always be a reminder of what might have been.

  5

  “SO,” AMY WHISPERED to Kristen as they were both waiting for customers’ drink orders at the bar. “How’d it go this afternoon with Captain Mysterious?” She wiggled her brows.

  If Kristen hadn’t avoided her gaze and bitten her bottom lip, Amy might have thought she didn’t hear her. The Beach Boys’ “Kokomo” was playing loudly over the speakers, but, still… “Hey, what is it?”

  Kristen turned to her with red-rimmed eyes. “I ruined everything.”

  “Oh, no! What happened?”

  Kristen shook her head. “I can’t talk about it here.” She grabbed her drinks and placed them on her tray. “We’ll talk after work?” At Amy’s nod, she threw a grateful look over her shoulder and took off for her section.

  Amy picked up her tray of cocktails, swung it over her head and sauntered over to her waiting customers. She turned to the next table, ready to take their order and stopped cold. Kekoa.

  “What are you doing here?” she blurted out. Her reaction this morning had been completely spontaneous, but she had no regrets.

  “Thought I’d have another of those Sneaky Tikis you made for me.”

  Yeah, right, and she was a MENSA member. She narrowed her eyes and stuck a hand on her hip. “What do you really want?”

  He folded his arms, drew a quick breath that expanded his already broad chest and let it out on a huff. “Okay. We need to talk.”

  “I get a break in—” she checked the huge beer clock on the wall above the bar “—about two hours. Come back then.”

  “No. We’ll speak now.”

  “Look, you can’t just—”

  “I spoke with your shift manager. He’s agreed to give you fifteen minutes if I buy a drink and wait until you clear your tables. So, I’ll wait.”

  Am
y blinked over at her boss. Really? No one ever got more than their usual break under Frank’s watchful eye. How had Kekoa managed that? She looked back at him. He still had his arms crossed and sat as if made of stone.

  A shiver of something more than just physical attraction tingled through her. As much as she craved her independence and wouldn’t dream of letting a man run her life—been there, done that—there was something…thrilling about Kekoa making special arrangements just to speak with her. It’s not as if he’d come lumbering in and tried to drag her out forcibly. “Okay.” She tossed her hair back. “One Sneaky Tiki coming up.”

  Within fifteen minutes, all her tables were taken care of and Frank gestured for her to take a break. Kekoa was waiting for her as she came out of the ladies’ room from freshening her makeup. He blocked the entry to the restroom alcove as if he feared she might slip away. As if she would.

  “Could we talk outside?” He gestured toward the side door.

  “Sure.” Though she was nervous, she smiled and led the way to a tiny garden with a humpback-whale fountain and a cement bench tucked away under palms and surrounded by bright-colored hibiscus. She sat, crossed her legs and bounced one back and forth.

  Kekoa paced in front of her. He cleared his throat. “As the son of a chief, it is my duty to make an alliance with the daughter of a respectable island family.”

  Amy stopped bouncing her leg. “And you’re telling me this because…?”

  “I’ve sought guidance from the gods, but I’ve been given no resolution to my dilemma.”

  “Your…dilemma?”

  He glanced at her as he continued pacing. “You must understand that you’re completely inappropriate for me.”

  Amy straightened her spine and crossed her arms. “Must I?”

  He stopped pacing and faced her. “Yes. My…attraction to you isn’t something I’m happy about. You’re—” he waved his arm up and down her figure “—a cocktail waitress. If we’re going to continue this affair, I’ll be going against my Ohana, my honor, even my best interests.”

  Fury struck her core like lightning and she shot up from her seat. “What on earth makes you think I’d continue anything with you, you arrogant—”

  He took hold of her shoulders and pressed his mouth to hers. She remained stiff in his arms, her mouth shut while he cupped the back of her head and moved his lips over hers, enticing, cajoling, until finally she opened to him.

  Triumphant, he plunged his tongue in to claim her and deepened the kiss until he was devouring her. With a rough groan, his mouth slid down to capture her neck and nibble up behind her ear.

  Amy’s bones seemed to have dissolved. She clung to his shirtfront and leaned her head back to give him what he wanted. Wait. Why was she giving him what he wanted? Just because her body wanted it, too? That was no good reason. Not after he’d insulted her so completely. She wasn’t expecting a proposal of marriage—God forbid—but she at least expected the man she had an affair with to want to want her. She shoved away from him and headed back toward the side entrance. Surely her fifteen minutes were up by now.

  “Amy!” His voice was husky behind her and he made a grab for her arm but missed.

  Opening the door, she swung back to face him. “You might try improving your come-on line, sweetie. Telling a woman she’s ‘inappropriate’ is a real turnoff.” Spinning on her four-inch heels, she strode through the door and made her way back to Frank and her section.

  AFTER THE BAR CLOSED for the night, Kristen changed clothes in the restroom as usual, eager to get out of her heels.

  As they headed outside, Kristen opened her mouth to ask Amy for a ride, too exhausted to contemplate walking home. She’d left her mangled bike in her condo to deal with another day.

  But chained to a light post in the parking lot beside Amy’s Toyota was a brand-new two-toned seven-speed women’s cruiser bicycle. With a big red bow taped on the seat and the key to the lock taped under the bow.

  Luke.

  Clearly giving her the bike this way meant he hadn’t wanted to communicate with her. She didn’t blame him.

  She thought she’d cried her last tear in the shower this evening, but…no.

  Thank goodness for Amy. She was the older sister Kristen had never had. Kristen cried on her shoulder and Amy listened and sympathized without offering advice. Kristen was close to her mom, but sex and her body issues weren’t something she could talk about over a long-distance phone call.

  When Kristen brought up the subject of Kekoa, Amy laughed it off, claiming that at thirty, she was too old to make the same mistake twice, and that she was over that silly infatuation.

  Kristen didn’t believe her. But she knew about Amy’s ex, and the part about making the same mistake bothered her. Kekoa would never hurt a woman.

  The next two days, Kristen’s routine remained the same. Up at six, on the water with Kekoa by seven, diving, snapping photos of the humpbacks, corals, tropical fish, all the exquisite sea life Hawaiian waters had to offer.

  Friday afternoon she sat at the kitchen table uploading the day’s photos into her laptop. Still nothing screamed winner at her. No single photo seemed unique enough to enter. And the contest deadline was only two weeks away.

  She tried not to question her decision to come here. But she’d spent a lot of money on this venture. What if she failed? The idea of losing had always been some abstract possibility far in the future. But it loomed in front of her now, like a tropical storm threatening to destroy her dream.

  Yet, if she were honest with herself, it wasn’t the prospect of losing this contest that made her world seem full of ominous clouds. No, she’d weighed that outcome carefully before signing those loan papers with her grandmother. And every time, her conclusion had always been, better to fail than to never have tried.

  Though the contest was a niggling worry, her most miserable thoughts always centered on Luke.

  What must he think of her? She hadn’t seen him at all. Not on the beach, or in the lobby. He was probably avoiding her. And who could blame him?

  She deleted the worst photos, sorted the rest of what she’d taken this morning into groups and then clicked on the folder she’d created titled Luke. Several photos appeared on her screen. Though he hadn’t liked it, she’d taken a few of him on the boat and in the souvenir shop while his attention had been elsewhere. His quiet shyness drew her to him more than any charming come-on.

  The fact that he was so good-looking only added fuel to the fire. His angular jaw contrasted nicely with his slightly turned-up nose. And though his brown hair was cut short, it still managed to curl just a bit on the ends, with one lock falling over his forehead that made her want to reach out and sweep it back.

  Pain stabbed her chest. Thinking of him, or rather, her behavior with him, ate away at her peace and happiness. She’d tried to call him both yesterday and this morning to thank him for the bike, and his cell phone had gone straight to voice mail. She certainly understood why he wouldn’t want to speak with her.

  She was the one who had initiated everything. She’d introduced herself, asked him to dinner, invited him to spend the day with her on the boat. And longed for his kiss. Oh, his kiss. She’d dated plenty in high school. She’d had a boyfriend for a while in college. But she’d never been kissed the way Luke kissed her. It’d been as if he poured his soul into his kiss.

  And then, she’d stopped him. Without explanation. And the worst of it was she hadn’t meant to. It’d been a reflex that had surprised her as much as him. But the damage was done. He probably thought she was the worst tease ever. She couldn’t stand for him to think that she was only playing some cruel game with him.

  Well, she wasn’t giving up. She grabbed her cell phone, pulled up his number and hit Dial.

  “Andrews,” Luke’s deep voice answered on the second ring, but it sounded gravelly, as if he hadn’t used it in a while.

  “Luke?”

  Silence on the other end. Then finally, “Kristen?”


  “Yeah. Hi. I wanted to thank you for the bicycle. That was totally not necessary.”

  She heard some fumbling with the phone, and then, “Least I could do.”

  “Fact is, I love it. It’s beautiful. So…thank you.” Her words trailed off and she cringed. Could she be any more lame?

  Silence.

  “Um, how are you doing?”

  “I been jus’ fine.”

  He didn’t sound just fine. His words were slurred and his Texas drawl was more pronounced. And the flippant tone didn’t sound like the Luke she’d gotten to know either. Was he drunk? At three in the afternoon? “Listen, Luke. We should talk.”

  The silence lasted so long this time she thought maybe he’d left the phone or hung up. Then she heard, “Doan think that’d be a good idea.” And he clicked off.

  Kristen stared at her cell. Something was wrong. It sounded crazy when she’d only known the guy a few days, but she felt it in her gut. And it was her fault.

  She darted out the door and punched the elevator button, all the while trying to picture seeing him on his balcony that night. How many stories up had his condo been? And how many balconies over from the lobby? Counting in her head, she stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the fifth floor. If she was wrong, she’d go up and down each floor and knock on every door if she had to.

  Once on the fifth floor, she went to the third door on the side facing the ocean. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There were so many ways this could go horribly wrong. The least of which was some stranger answered the door and she had to explain herself.

  Letting out her breath, she opened her eyes and straightened her spine. And knocked.

  And waited. Maybe the occupant had a normal job and was still at work. She knocked again, a little louder this time. After waiting another few seconds, she moved to the next door down the hall when she heard a thump and a crash from inside the condo.

  “Luke?” She banged on the door, good manners gone. “Luke, are you all right?” She used the heel of her hand to pound this time. Midpound, the door swung open.