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Practicality in all things.
Following the curve of the beach, she reached the northern tip of the island and inward where the dining hall stood on the end of a dock reaching out over the lagoon. Not a very resort-type name for the place, but it’s what everyone called it. Most of the tables were outside, but a small indoor area offered a cozy spot on a cool evening. Earl told her the owner had all the guests come to his house, once, when a hurricane loomed near enough to make the restaurant’s location less than safe. Tonight, the few clouds from sunset had fled, and a big yellow moon hung over the ocean. Very romantic.
For those who cared about things like that.
As she stepped onto the wooden surface, strains of Jimmy Buffet’s “Come Monday” carried to her on the warm, damp breeze, and she picked up her pace. The restaurant, little more than a shack to all outward appearances, but the one time she’d gone in to ask a question, she’d been amazed at the honey-colored wood tables and chairs glowing in candlelight. Candles flickered in hurricane glass lamps on the outdoor tables. The honeymoon couple sat side by side, kissing and murmuring to one another while their dinner grew cold. What did they care? They lived on love.
Ugh.Hadn’t she lived long enough to know better? She’d been days from the wedding when Don cheated on her and reminded her pushing aside her career goals for romance made no sense. If he hadn’t left the firm shortly thereafter, she might have.
Skirting the huggy pair as if they could contaminate her by any contact, she headed for Earl, seated at a table along the outer railing.
“Great location. Been here long?” Taking the chair across from him, she set her clutch on the decking next to her.
Earl looked especially island chic in a cacophonous floral print shirt and cargo shorts. Sperry boat shoes completed the ensemble. Same shoes as the Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. His blond hair never moved in the breeze, though, heavy-duty product glistening under the fairy lights. He offered her a broad, white-toothed smile.Shark!
“Just a few minutes. You’re right on time.”
She licked her lips, darting her tongue back inside when his gaze focused on her lips. “Oh, good. I hate being late.”
He leaned close, and she had to fight not to move back. “It’s the islands, Arabella. You can’t be late on island time.”
She laughed, edgy and uncomfortable. “Oh, sure. I suppose.” Why was she so wound? She’d been around Earl since she got there with no such reaction. Of course, she hadn’t planned to have sex with him before. All the more reason to do it and get it over with. And not to wait so long between lovers again. “Shall we order drinks? I could use a martini or maybe…” The words dried up in her throat as a man came toward them holding three glasses on a tray.
“Three Goombay Smashes.” He set them on the table then, to her surprise, sat down and joined them. “Will Sanders.” He thrust out his hand, and she lifted hers and accepted his grip. “We almost met when I was boarding the plane for the mainland.”
“Did we? Oh, I remember.” She blamed the electricity prickling up her arm and rocketing into her core for her coy words. “Arabella Carmichael. Are you…the bartender?”
“At least some of the time.” He waved toward the trio of tall glasses topped with pineapple wedges. “I made these. Give me your opinion.”
“Goombay…?”
“Smash.” He rested an elbow on the table. “Very popular drink in these parts. Most people make them wrong.”
Edging her fingers back from his, she wrapped them around the glass, welcoming its coolness under her palm. “What’s in it?”
“Since I obtained the recipe through a highly secret source, I can’t tell you, but take a sip. See if you can figure it out.” She’d know that smile anywhere.
“Okay.” Completely self-conscious, Arabella brought the straw to her lips and took a long sip. “Pineapple juice, rum…something coconut?”
“A start. Maybe when I know you better, I can give you some of the ingredients. Do you like it?”
“I do. Refreshing and sweet, but not cloyingly so.” She sucked on the straw again. “Yes, tasty.”
“Shall I bring more?”
If he did, her already-giddy brain might turn to slush. “Not yet. Let’s take our time and order some appetizers. Coconut shrimp, maybe?”
His eyes were so dark, but in the dim lighting she couldn’t be sure of their color. Dark blue? Brown? His olive skin might be the result of lots of sunshine, since he worked here. A bartender. What a perfect vacation fling. And he couldn’t be more different from her ex-fiancé and the other men she’d dated. A simple guy with a simple job and a beautiful smile. Judging by the way his T-shirt clung to his upper arms and chest, he had some muscles, too. She’d gotten a look at his trim waist and fine backside when he climbed the plane steps.
“Did you run past my place tonight?” she blurted out, just as a waitress set a plate of the crispy, coconut-coated prawns in front of them. While she mused over Will’s attributes, someone had placed their appetizer order. One of the guys.
“Hibiscus Cottage? Yes, it’s along my running route. I hope I didn’t bother you.”
Bother her? Hot and bothered more likely. She hadn’t even been aware it was him. Or had she been, on some level?
Forcing her eyes from the man who’d caught her attention merely by walking past her and boarding a plane, she took in Earl. He was also attractive. So why did Will’s touch engender such a positive reaction while she’d never actually allowed Earl to so much as take her hand so far?
Aware she’d become the focus of both men’s scrutiny, she grabbed a shrimp and bit into it, chewing slowly while she considered the situation. She’d made a date with Earl and should give him the courtesy of her attention.But I don’t want to.
