Like a Good Wife (Oahu Naval Officers Book 2)

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Like a Good Wife (Oahu Naval Officers Book 2) Page 5

by Drea Braddock


  What was I doing? He watches me for a moment, awkwardly frozen and staring at him, a sexy smirk curving one side of his lips up. He steps around the lounger to stand in front of me. I reach out, tracing the tattoo and he lets out a slightly shaky breath.

  “This feels a little uneven, Nalani.” He unbuttons my shorts and slides them down my legs, placing a soft kiss on my collarbone as he leans down. His lips are hot on my skin. I feel branded. “Wait here, I’ll grab us some towels.” I can’t help but stand there, watching him. I know I’m not the only one, but he looks at me like we’re the only people here.

  11

  Ames

  I feel like I’m precariously balanced on the edge of a cliff. Being with Nalani, in that perfect swimsuit, is torture. All that skin, the way her ass looks…it’s killing me. I hope she’s attracted to me too and I’m not alone in this, but she has no idea what she does to me. Maybe it’s not just me — I keep catching her looking at me. And there was that small, surprising kiss. The unprompted and unexpected affection was as rewarding as seeing her confidence rise in the right swimsuit.

  It clears out a little as people leave to eat lunch, and we enjoy the less crowded pool. Nalani is playful and endearingly unsure of herself. I hope it’s just that she’s still getting comfortable around me. She definitely doesn’t have anything to be self-conscious about. We stay standing at the midpoint of the pool because of her height. I’m swimming away from her, teasing, when she drops under the water, unaware we’d crossed over into the deep end. I scoop her up and pull her to the side of the pool, pushing her hair away from her face. She clings to me, sputtering and smiling, embarrassed.

  “Oops. Short girl problems.” Her eyes get wide, and I realize her legs are wrapped around my waist and I’m pressing her into the wall, with more than my chest. “Oh.” Her rosy lips fall open slightly and I avoid acknowledging my burgeoning hard-on by bringing my lips to hers. The tip of her tongue sneaks out, running along the seam of my lips and I take the opening to explore with my own. She’s soft and sweet, the contact everything I’ve been imaging since I first saw her. And this is not helping the erection situation.

  Pulses of electricity are racing through my body as our tongues touch and our lips move together. Her fingers are in my hair, and I can feel how much I’m not alone in this. I break the kiss, reluctantly, because I know I’m not going to be able to keep this PG much longer. I lift Nalani out of the water and sit her on the edge of the pool. Big fucking mistake. Her legs that had been wrapped around me are now slightly open, directly in front of my face. I bite my lip, thinking very un-PG thoughts, and look up to find her watching me and blushing. Busted.

  “You ready for lunch?” I force my eyes up to her face. She nods and I swim across the pool slowly, giving myself time to get back under control. Now is not the time to become a total horn-dog!

  We eat lunch and go back to our room in the late afternoon. I’ve kept things light but affectionate. I want her to know that I like her, but I’m trying to let her set the pace. Fuck knows if I set the pace, the way that kiss felt, we’d already be naked. I’m no genius, but something tells me that might be too much too soon. I notice I have a couple of missed texts from Norah, but I don’t even check them. If she or Ka‘eo had an emergency, they’d call. I don’t want the outside world intruding on this weekend. There will be time for friends later.

  After getting cleaned up, Nalani puts my undershirt back on with a pair of extra boxer shorts and I send our things out to be washed. I know these are the only clothes she has, and I want her to be comfortable. She stretches out across the middle of the bed and dozes off. Instead of keeping busy, like I usually do, I sit on the bed to be with her. I lift her up to move her onto the pillows, but she curls up against me. Happy not to have to fight the urge, I let myself hold her. She’s so light and small. She smells sweet and the feel of her in my arms is heavenly. I doze off with my cheek resting on her head and my arms around her. It’s as much a dream as those that visit me in my sleep.

  I’m brought mostly out of my nap by Nalani trying to wriggle herself out from under my arm. I grumble, pulling her closer, “Not yet. Please?”

  She snuggles back against me, and any tension leaves my body. I hum out a sound of contentment, burrowing my face into her silky hair. For a couple of minutes I hold her and pretend all of this is normal. Then I open my eyes. She’s looking pensive, teeth worrying the plump flesh of her lip.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Only I was trying to get up to pee…”

  “Shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to hold you captive.”

  I move my arm and help her sit up. Real smooth, Cabot. She comes back a couple of minutes later, looking apologetic. “Next time just elbow me and tell me I’m being ridiculous.”

  “It wasn’t a big deal.” It sort of feels like it was — like she wasn’t comfortable telling me what she needed. I let it go, though. I get the feeling pressing her won’t help.

  “What do you want for dinner?”

  “I’m fine with whatever.”

  Nalani doesn’t seem to like being the one to make the decisions, as if she isn’t allowed to have her own opinions. I try a different tactic. “How do you feel about not going anywhere?”

  She looks down at my underclothes she’s wearing, “I’m good with that.”

  “Cool. I’ll order something so we can stay in.” I grab my phone but have a thought. “While I’m ordering dinner, why don’t you pick out something for us to watch. And before you worry about all the options, let me tell you this: I will be happy with anything you pick. It doesn’t matter what we watch, all I want is to spend time with you.”

  I squeeze her foot, the body part closest to me, and stand up. I can never sit still when I’m on the phone. I need to pace.

  Cheeseburgers and fries arrive and Nalani uses the smart tv to log in to her streaming account. She’s scrolling through her list, and she stops, blocking the screen with her body.

  “You said anything, right?” I nod. “And you won’t make fun of me, no matter what I choose?”

  “Anything, Nalani. No jokes.” She presses play and I hear a familiar theme song start.

  “Are you fucking with me right now?” I grin widely.

  “You said no jokes!” She nibbles her lip apprehensively.

  I pull her towards me, giving her a hug. Damn, I want her in my arms all the time. “I’m not making fun; I love this show!”

  “You do? Really? You’re not just saying that to make me feel less weird?” Her warm hazel eyes are wide with worry.

  “LOVE it! You didn’t pick this as some sort of joke about my last name, did you?” She looks like she doesn’t understand. I take that as a no, but elaborate anyway. “Because of Cabot Cove, I mean.”

  “Oh my gosh, of course! I wasn’t even thinking about that! I used to watch this with my Nana. She owned the whole series.”

  “Me too, but with Bill! He loved Jessica Fletcher! He said she was ‘smart as a whip and one classy broad.’” I imitate his voice, not that she would know the difference. “On this last deployment one of the guys in the Ward Room tried to give me shit, making cracks about me being an old lady from Cabot Cove, but I turned the joke around on him. I had Murder, She Wrote playing in the Ward Room, with the captain’s permission, for an entire month!”

  “That’s perfect.”

  “I can’t believe you like Murder, She Wrote too! Put one more item in the Reasons Why Nalani is the Coolest column!”

  We binge watch for hours, finishing dinner and eventually having hot tea while talking throughout since we’ve already seen all of the episodes more than once. I kiss her occasionally — small, light touches, not full on making out — as much as I think I can without pushing things. It’s never enough, but I worry about her being uncomfortable. I don’t want to push her or scare her away. We stay up way too late, like the night before, talking and not wanting the night to end. She finally dozes off mid-story about a funn
y college professor. I pull off my shirt, turn everything off, and settle in next to her. This has been the longest, strangest, best date I’ve ever been on. I wish it didn’t have to end.

  I wake up as the little spoon, which is a funny position to find myself in since Nalani is so much smaller than I am. Her arm is wrapped around my chest with her knees tucked up under my ass and her face nestled into my back. She’s warm and her breathing is still smooth and even. I lie that way for a while, letting her sleep, and thinking about everything we’ve talked about since I brought her back here Friday night.

  I keep coming back to the scariest stuff: the breast cancer. She doesn’t want to talk about it — doesn’t even want to think about it — but it’s not really a subject where avoidance is a good policy. That seems foolish and dangerous. I know it’s not my problem. It’s not really any of my business. But I want to help her. God, more than anything I want to help her and care for her and treat her problems like my own. I’m turning the problem over in my mind, trying to see it from all the different angles, as Nalani’s arm tightens around me, and she sighs into my back. I think she kisses me between my shoulder blades, but that could be wishful thinking. Clearly, I’m wishing her mouth was on me. Anywhere. She’s driving me crazy. I don’t imagine the hug though. I roll onto my back to see her face. Even with sleep-fogged eyes and mussed hair, she’s breathtaking.

  “I never get to be the big spoon!” Her smile is big and the most relaxed I’ve seen it outside of the penguin enclosure at the Honolulu Zoo.

  “I’ll be your little spoon anytime!” I wink at her. “Do you still want to hike Diamond Head? If so, we should probably head out soon before the sun gets up.”

  We dress quickly, grab coffee, fruit, granola bars and water in the hotel lobby and take a ride-share to the trailhead. We’re there as the gates open at 6 am and getting dropped off means we get to avoid the nightmare parking situation. It’s less than 2 miles round trip. We finish in a little over an hour. The views from the top are worth the trip and I take a lot of photos. Mostly of her. I haven’t been posting or using social media at all, though. I’m still existing fully inside the Ames and Nalani bubble.

  Once we’re back down from Diamond Head, we get a ride to the beach. Waikiki Beach isn’t crowded. It’s early. We change and set up down by the water, taking turns helping each other with sunscreen. I take my time, savoring the chance to touch her. She does the same and I have to keep reminding myself that we’re on a very public beach. I walk out into the waves, letting the water roll into me. Nalani stands next to me and I laugh, feeling a little dumb.

  “What’s funny?”

  “I don’t know what to do with myself! Usually, if I come to the beach, it’s because I have something planned. I’m going to run, or paddle board, or swim…I have a goal in mind. I’ve never gone to the beach just to hang out.”

  “You are missing out, Cabot! Stick with me, we’re gonna hang out so hard!” She blushes and I’m thinking about all the ways I’d like to while away the hours with her. I like spending time with her, period.

  “What do we do first?”

  “Ames, you’re already getting this wrong!” I scowl theatrically, knowing she’s playfully pushing my buttons. “No plans, no lists, no items to check off. We’re going to swim. Float around in the ocean. Enjoy the waves and the sunshine. No. Goals.”

  She punctuates the last two words with playful pokes to my chest. I’m wishing she would touch me more, then her hands are flat on my chest and she’s reaching up on her toes, putting her lips on mine. Every centimeter of my body that she’s touching sparks to life. I’d be happy if this is all we did for the rest of the weekend.

  We swim out until the water is up to Nalani’s shoulders and then lift up our feet, floating gently in the long, low waves. I float on my back some, she swims in circles around me, we bob around, talking the whole time. She’s easy to talk to. She reaches out and touches my face.

  “Your nose is the tiniest bit pink. We either need to reapply sunscreen or get out of the sun.” I capture her hand, kissing her palm. Her eyes close briefly.

  “What do you want, Nalani?” I don’t mean for my voice to be so low, but she affects every part of me.

  “Food?” She doesn’t sound sure, but she actually answered my question outright. I’m going to back that solid decision all the way, even if I can think of a few things I definitely want more.

  “Then we’ll get food!”

  We walk down to The Sunrise Shack and share a giant loaded avocado toast, a matcha smoothie bowl and coffee. Then we walk back to the hotel pool and lay out on their loungers with our second cups of coffee.

  “I feel like it takes a lot more energy than I realized to be idle!”

  “Well, you’re giving it 110%. You don’t even relax halfway, Cabot!”

  “Is that a challenge, Kimura? I’m going to be the best at relaxing. No one will relax better than me! You should go ahead and get my trophy ready now.” I lean back on my lounger, coffee in hand, and shoot her a cocky smile.

  “Ok, you do that, I’m going to rinse the sand off over there and then get in the pool.”

  At first, I watch her because I can. She’s so sexy, no matter what she’s doing. She doesn’t notice the random guys watching her appreciatively, but I do. And I don’t even care because she’s here with me. Then the lack of sleep, the very early morning hike, and sunshine hit me, and I doze off in my chair. My foot gets bumped, and I open my eyes to find Nalani perched at the bottom of my lounger. She points next to us and mouths, “my chair got taken.” There’s an elderly man stretched out in the seat next to mine, reading a Clive Cussler paperback.

  I spread my legs to hang off on either side of the seat and scoot myself back. “Here, share mine.” She sits gingerly, like she’s trying to give me space, but I wrap my arms around her ribs and pull her backwards, against me, until we’re both lying back. “There, that’s better.” I yawn, keeping one arm around her and using the other hand to play with her hair. “How long did I sleep?”

  “Only about a half an hour.”

  “Sorry I passed out! And sorry I didn’t save your seat.”

  She snuggles into me, running her fingers along my arm that’s wrapped around her. “I’m good with this arrangement. It’s cozier.” I agree wholeheartedly. I like the way her small but shapely legs look between mine. We fit. I wouldn’t have said before now that I was a foot guy, but even her dainty little feet are cute. Everything about her does it for me. I love having her this close. Her body gets slightly heavier. I think she’s dozing too. We stay that way, caressing and slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, the sounds of the pool and the warmth of the sunshine soothing. Eventually she turns to get my attention and I find myself staring at her lips. Too late, I see they’re moving, and I wasn’t paying attention.

  “Say that again? My brain is still waking up.”

  “I asked if you wanted to go spread out on the bed with Jessica?” The old guy next to us raises his eyebrows behind his book and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

  “You and Jessica and that big king-sized bed? Yes, please.” He looks scandalized. I love a good joke, but I want to set him straight. I don’t like the idea of him judging Nalani. I catch his eye and smile, “I don’t think anyone loves Murder, She Wrote as much as we do!” His cheeks get pink, and he smiles at me with embarrassment. “Sorry if our joke made my girl seem like anything but the poised, intelligent, accomplished woman she is.”

  He smiles at her gently. “I hope you two enjoy your show.”

  A round and wrinkly woman with her hair in a swimming cap comes over, grabbing the towel at his feet.

  He looks at Nalani again, “Would you mind if my wife, Mabel, takes your chair, since you two are leaving?”

  “Not at all, enjoy your pool time.” Nalani pats his hand and smiles at his wife as she sits down in the seat we vacated. “You’ve got a keeper here, ma’am.”

  She smiles broadly, her eyes
crinkling up and her cheeks rising. “You don’t have to tell me, missy! My Earl has been my best decision for 50 years now!”

  Nalani slips her arm around my waist, tucking herself against me, and we walk towards the elevators with matching smiles and strides.

  12

  Nalani

  I’m feeling a bit at sea here. Pun not really intended, but I’ve got this sailor on my brain. The normal date parameters have become blurred with time and proximity. I don’t know what the logical next step is or what I should be feeling. Everything with Ames feels comfortable, easy, good. Too good. Even if we count today, Sunday, as our third date, I’m still feeling more than I should be at this stage. Ames reminds me of everything Kachaan said I should be holding out for in a boyfriend. I like how he treats me, and I want more. A lot more. He’s quite touchy and attentive, which I love, and he also seems to like where we’re at. I’ve enjoyed the touching and kissing even more because I’ve never had to worry that he’ll push me before I’m ready. Even on this, we feel in sync. The thing that leaves me questioning the most is that I’m not normally the type to want more this quickly. It takes me a long time to get to know people or to warm up to a potential boyfriend. I’ve never found myself rushing full speed ahead, and I’ve definitely never found myself feeling confident enough in his feelings and my own to want to initiate.

  We get up to the room and take turns rinsing off in the shower before changing back into our clothes. The thought of that body, naked with only a door between us taunts me. I almost let myself into the bathroom to sneak in the shower while he’s in there. Almost. I chicken out at the last second. It was my idea to come up here and watch Murder, She Wrote, but obviously, I wasn’t really thinking about TV when I asked. It feels clumsy and ridiculous now. I’m hoping he missed my lack of moves and merely thinks I was tired of being at the pool. My phone buzzes as I shut the bathroom door.

 

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