“Oh.” She looked down at her sundress and back up at me.

  “You look beautiful,” I said, and she blushed.

  “What’s he like?”

  “Professional,” was the first word that came to mind before another. “Serious.”

  Samson was my polar opposite. Where he excelled, I struggled. And vice versa. He couldn’t catch a wave if I paid him to do it. It was almost unbelievable that we had the exact same parents.

  “Is he nice?”

  “Very.”

  “Judgmental?”

  “No. But he’s never seen me with anyone other than Kaylee, so he might be a little taken aback,” I explained honestly.

  “Is he married?”

  “Yes. And they have two kids.”

  “Okay.” She slapped her hands together, seemingly satisfied with the lowdown I’d given her. It was cute, the way she needed to be prepped, the information she wanted.

  “Any more questions? Because that’s him.” I pointed to the man in the suit heading our way.

  Spring bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet as Samson approached, a giant grin on his face before he took Spring in and gave me a look.

  “Brother,” he said, greeting me with a hug and a slap on the back. “Who’s this?”

  I stepped to the side. “This is Spring. Spring, this is my brother, Samson.”

  She reached out her hand, and Samson took it, giving her a firm shake.

  “It’s nice to meet you. The resort is breathtaking,” she said, and his face lit up with pride. She knew the way to his heart—complimenting him on his business.

  Samson gave me a quick, curious look before refocusing on Spring. “Are you a guest here?”

  She nodded. “I am. I’m staying in one of the bungalows. Beautifully decorated, by the way. Incredible views.”

  “Thank you,” he said sincerely before looking at me. “So, you’re stealing one of my guests from me then?”

  I choked out a laugh. “I’m trying.”

  Samson put a finger to his lips and shook his head. “Interesting. Very interesting, little brother.”

  “I told you he’d be weird about it,” I said toward Spring, and she giggled.

  She smacked my shoulder, and I took the opportunity to grab her and hold her in my arms.

  “You did not,” she disagreed. “He didn’t say that.”

  My brother couldn’t hide his surprise, his shock, or whatever else was floating around in that big head of his. “Should I take you off the schedule for the rest of the week?” he asked.

  I leaned down toward Spring and whispered in her ear.

  She maneuvered out of my grip and turned to face me. “It’s up to you. But don’t disappoint anyone who was excited to surf with you.”

  “Keep all my lessons, but if someone else can handle the excursions until Spring leaves, that would be chill.”

  “It’s not an issue, bruh. You know that.”

  He was being so agreeable. Not that I’d really expected otherwise, but I never knew. This was his business, and I was potentially making it more difficult for him to run it effectively.

  “I’d better get back though. It was nice to meet you, Spring. Talk to you later, Diego.”

  Once my brother left us alone, I really studied Spring’s expression and body language.

  “That was okay, right?”

  “Yeah. He was nice.”

  “Can we go pack that bag now?” I said, realizing that I wanted her all to myself.

  I didn’t want to be at the resort anymore. I didn’t care about people seeing us together or what they might say. I just knew that I wanted to be home, with her.

  “You’re so impatient,” she teased. “I mean, we just got here. The least we could do is have a drink at the pool bar. I haven’t done that yet.”

  “Okay, Spring, we can do that.”

  People on the island would hear about me and Spring soon enough, if they hadn’t already, especially after last night. It wasn’t enough that I’d sat down to eat with her, but I’d also walked out on her, too, leaving her there alone to pick up the pieces for prying eyes to see. There wasn’t a chance in hell that the employees hadn’t gone all apeshit over seeing me with someone who wasn’t Kaylee.

  I was honestly half-surprised my phone hadn’t rung from Kaylee herself, calling to see if it was true or not. Then again, I hadn’t reached out to her when I realized that she’d moved on. I wrote a novel of a text message that I eventually deleted and never sent. There was no point, I’d finally realized as my finger hovered over the Send button before pressing Delete instead.

  She and I were over. Sleeping with Spring had definitely solidified that. Not in my mind, but in my heart.

  So, if everyone was going to start talking about us, I’d give them something to talk about.

  THE POOL BAR IS THE BEST BAR

  SPRING

  Diego and I pulled up two barstools underneath the oversize cabana-inspired bar and sat down. I was surprised there were any seats available, to be honest. The pool was to our left, and the ocean was in front of us. It was almost as impressive as being at Diego’s house but not quite. I realized in that moment that I enjoyed the privacy that his home had given us. While the resort was truly stunning, it was filled with strangers who were very invested in who I was there with.

  As expected, everyone who worked there knew Diego by name. I didn’t miss the way that the guys gave him head nods, showing their approval for whatever it was that he and I were doing. Nor did I miss the way all the females sized me up, not even hiding the fact that they were doing it. They weren’t necessarily happy that I was hanging out with their hometown surf god. I was only a measly tourist after all, and if anyone should have been spending time with him, it clearly should have been one of the local girls.

  “Babe,” Diego said.

  I flinched at the nickname, purely from surprise, not distaste. I actually found myself loving the way the endearment flew from his lips, meant for my ears.

  “Uh-huh?” I asked, batting my lashes a few times more than necessary.

  “Do you want me to choose for you, or do you want Jon here to make you something?”

  “I’m Jon,” the bartender said, his hair tucked back into a hat that bore the resort logo but nothing else he wore did. He looked so casual that I was surprised it was even allowed.

  “I like your shirt. The logo is really cool,” I said, never having seen it before, and Jon gave a howl.

  “You’re joking? She’s funny,” Jon said, and I looked at Diego, confusion written all over my face.

  “No, bruh. She doesn’t know. I mean, she knows, but she hasn’t seen,” Diego told him.

  I was lost in their conversation. I had no idea what they were talking about.

  “That’s your boy’s shirt. It’s his logo. His clothes.” Jon pointed at Diego, and my mouth dropped open.

  “Ah. I love it,” I said again, turning to Diego and pressing a kiss to his lips, feeling so proud of what he had created, like I’d been a part of it somehow. “Shit. I’m sorry,” I said before realizing that I’d kissed him in public with more eyes than I cared to count watching.

  “Too late for that, babe,” he said, grabbing my face and kissing me hard, deep, and with tongue for everyone to see.

  If there had been any question about the two of us hooking up, there wasn’t anymore.

  He pulled away with a smile, and I felt the blush creep into my cheeks. I tried to steady my breath, but it was difficult. He made me breathless in the best possible way.

  I looked between the two guys, feeling so at home that it was almost unnatural. Then, I turned to Diego and finally answered, “You choose for me. I trust you.”

  Diego laughed as he pointed at a drink on the menu that I couldn’t see and Jon gave him an approving nod. I bounced on my seat, waiting for whatever concoction Jon was going to make for me when he returned quickly with a …

  Piña colada?

  “Is this a piña colada?” I asked, surprised that he’d get me something so traditional and simple.

  “Yeah. But try it. We make the best ones on the island,” Diego said.

  I took a sip before the flavor exploded on my taste buds. My brain instantly, once again, wanted to create this flavor in a cake and frosting.

  “The pool bar is always the best bar,” Jon said, as if trying to stave off an argument that he wouldn’t be getting from me.

  “This is so good and so strong,” I said, noticing the dark float of rum on top before I started mixing it.

  “Three kinds of rum. That’s what makes it so good. It’s not too strong and not too sweet. It’s the perfect blend,” Jon mentioned with a shrug.

  There was a huge slice of pineapple on the side of the plastic cup, and I removed it, taking a big bite. “This pineapple is unreal.” I wiped at the juice I knew was dripping down my chin.

  “ ’Cause it’s grown here,” Diego said, and I wondered what other cake creations I could make, using all of the island’s fresh ingredients.

  Jon slid a glass of something toward Diego, and he took a drink.

  “Perfect. Like always. Mahalo.”

  “Everyone’s watching us,” I said as I looked around, realizing that pairs of eyes were still practically glued to our backs.

  “I know. I created a scene earlier by kissing you like that. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m not. I just want you to be okay. Comfortable.” I struggled with the right words to express how I was feeling.

  I cared about Diego, and I knew that this island was small in the same way that Lake Bliss was. Everyone was involved in your personal business, whether you wanted them to be or not. Not that we were helping the situation by kissing in public and whatnot. But still.

  “I’m not uncomfortable,” he said, throwing his arm around the back of my chair, his fingertips brushing my shoulder.

  “Okay.” I turned my head and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let me know if that changes.”

  “You’re really something else,” he said, and I took it as a compliment, assuming he meant it that way. “Thank you. For caring.”

  “You’d do the same for me,” I said without a second thought, knowing that it was true.

  We might have been strangers before, but we felt like anything but now. There was some innate knowledge going on between the two of us. Something connecting us beyond what could be explained. I wasn’t sure that I believed in soul mates, but Diego had me questioning my thoughts on the matter. If soul mates truly existed, then he might be mine. It was the only thing that made any kind of sense.

  “I would,” he agreed.

  I took another swig of my drink, trying not to down it too quickly but it was hard to drink it slow. It was just that delicious. “I can’t believe how good this is,” I said, finishing it off, and he laughed.

  “You’re going to be buzzed soon,” he warned.

  He whistled for Jon and gave him a hand signal that I assumed meant I was getting another one.

  “I’m a fun drunk,” I said confidently, straightening my back. “Not the crying, havoc-wreaking kind of drunk. I just get happier.”

  Diego blew out a breath of relief. “That’s good to know. Kaylee was super dramatic. Always pushing me to get into fights,” he said before wincing. “I’m sorry I keep bringing her up.”

  “It’s okay. Really. It helps me understand you better. What your relationship was like. Where things went wrong. I don’t mind you talking about her,” I tried to explain before my empty cup was replaced with a new one. “Unless you’re still in love with her. I’m not sure I could handle hearing that right now.”

  It was a crap thing for me to demand of him—that he couldn’t be in love with his ex-girlfriend anymore—and I knew I shouldn’t have said it. But I wasn’t sure I’d be able to leave and sleep with him again if he told me that he was.

  “I still love her, Spring,” he started to say, and I swore my heart dropped out of my chest. “But I’m not in love with her like I was. I care about her, and I will always want what’s best for her, but I know that isn’t me. She really hurt me when she chose to leave, but like I told you, I had known it was coming. I’d seen the signs for a long time. I just tried to pretend like they weren’t there. And I proposed for all the wrong reasons because I’d been with her for so long. I didn’t know how to be without her.”

  I understood exactly what he was saying because I felt the same way. His story was too similar to my own. “I get what you’re saying. Completely.”

  “I know you do. That’s part of the reason why this works so well between us.” He pointed between my body and his own. “Part of the reason,” he said again, and I softened.

  “Let’s finish these and get out of here.”

  “I have a better idea,” he said as he stood up from his chair and reached for both of our cups. “Let’s take these to your room.”

  “I like the way you think, sir.”

  “I figured you would.”

  We took the drinks to my bungalow and sat on the lanai, watching the ocean and listening to the waves before I started throwing some stuff together to bring to his house.

  “Pack for more than one night, okay? I don’t want you to be here when you could be with me.”

  I had disagreed about an hour earlier, but now, with the alcohol swimming in my veins and the public display we’d made at the bar, I was in no mood to argue. It seemed pointless. I knew in my gut that I’d be staying with him every single day and night until I left anyway.

  “Fine.” I pretended to relent to his demands, but I had planned on packing a little extra anyway, just in case. “Promise me one thing?”

  “What’s that?”

  “We stop at the store, so I can bake for you. I haven’t baked in days, and I’m going a little crazy, to be honest.”

  “You want to bake for me?” His eyes grew wide, and he wiped at his mouth as he pretended to drool.

  “Yeah.”

  “You are the perfect woman. I mean, except for one thing,” he said, and I thrust out my hip, placing a hand on it.

  “Oh yeah? What’s the one thing?”

  “You don’t live here.”

  Well, damn. There was that.

  BAKING IS MY ZEN

  SPRING

  Diego did as promised, stopping at a store on the way home so I could grab everything I needed to create. I wanted to experiment with some of the local flavors to see how they tasted. Sometimes, I tried something that was delicious as a batter, but after baking, there was little to no flavor left at all. Basically, the oven had baked the taste right out of it. I was curious if that would happen here if I used fresh ingredients and juices.

  “The kitchen is yours, but I hope you know, I’m going to watch you,” Diego said with a grin as he licked a spoon of vanilla-pineapple cake batter that I’d handed him.

  “You can watch. Just know that I get very in my head sometimes, so if I go quiet, it’s just because I’m thinking.”

  He smiled, licking the spoon clean before dropping it into the sink. “I do the same on the water. Get in my head. Go quiet.”

  “I wish I could have seen you compete.” I waved my hand toward the windows that faced the ocean. “Like, in real time.”

  I suddenly felt like I’d missed out on this huge part of his life since I was only coming into it now. Surfing had defined him for so long and still did in ways, and I hadn’t gotten to witness a moment of it. It made me sad.

  “The days were long. And you probably would have been bored. Lots of sitting around, waiting for your turn. And then it’s over, just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  “I don’t think I could ever get bored, watching you surf,” I said, still feeling sorry for myself.

  “You say that now. But eventually, you’d have been like, I’m going to go home and bake. See you there.”

  I went to work, mixing and measuring and combining the frosting ingredients with the KitchenAid mixer that I was grateful he had. I knew all of my recipes by heart, so finagling them a bit was easy enough for me to do. I set the mixer on medium and started scooping the vanilla pineapple cake batter into a half-dozen cupcake tray.

  “Can I ask you questions while you do that, or will you mess up?” Diego sat down on one of the barstools that faced me. “And by the way, that batter was delicious.”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “I hope it stays that flavorful. And, yes, I can talk and bake at the same time.”

  “Do you miss being back home?”

  It wasn’t at all what I’d expected him to ask. “I’ve only been gone for a few days, so no.”

  “What about your sister? You said she runs the bakery with you.”

  I wasn’t sure what Diego was truly getting at or where he was going with these questions.

  “I’m sure you miss her.”

  “You want to know the truth?”

  “Always.” He leaned forward on his elbows and rested his chin on top of his folded hands.

  “I haven’t even thought about home since I met you.” It was true, and I was only realizing it now, as I was admitting it to him.

  He smiled. “Does it make me a dick if I really like hearing that?”

  “No,” I reassured him.

  “Have you told your sister about me?”

  “No,” I started to say, and his face fell. “But only because I haven’t talked to her. I haven’t talked to anyone really. They all agreed to leave me alone while I was here. And so far, they’ve been really good about doing that.”

  “We should send her a picture though. Don’t you think?” He was teasing, but he was also serious.

  “Is this because I met your brother? You want to meet my sister?” I asked, putting the cupcake pan into the oven and walking back to the mixer and shutting it off.

  The frosting looked perfectly mixed and smelled good. I dipped my finger in the bowl and took a bite. The fresh pineapple juice hit my taste buds, and I smiled before dipping another finger and walking toward Diego, the frosting about to fall off. He leaned forward, took my finger in his mouth, and sucked it clean.

  “Holy shit, babe. That is heavenly,” he said, and I loved getting that kind of reaction out of him.

 

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