It is. She’s breathing easy. I go back into the house, clean up the kitchen for real, and then return to the lanai where I sit down and wait.
Trouble is, that leaves me too much time to think. Those small, gnarled circles on my back burn as I remember the last time Cash and I tangled with Cornaro.
Not willing to go down that road, I get up and head into the laundry room. After cutting off all the tags, I throw the clothes in the washer and take the personal supplies, toothbrush, deodorant, some face wash and other chick stuff, into the bathroom. It’s been years since I’ve seen any of those things, and even longer since they graced my bathroom counter.
I stay busy, changing the sheets on the bed and then moving on to other miscellaneous chores in between checking on her. After hanging the few clothes that Cash brought over in the closet, I stand back and stare.
What the fuck were we thinking?
No woman has a wardrobe this skimpy. Her stuff barely takes up a foot or two of space in the closet.
Damn it.
A loud meow has me turning around. The big spotted cat looks at me and then turns, walking out the French doors with its tail flicking.
I follow.
The cat leads me right to Val.
She’s awake, rubbing at her eyes. She gives me a shy smile. Something about this slip of a tired, pretty girl puts a dull ache in my head, wondering if I can really keep her safe.
But I have to try. I fucking have to.
“Feeling any better?” I ask, knowing full well the question’s getting old.
“Yeah,” she says with a yawn, combing her hands through her hair, carefully near the injured spot. “Cash was right about the sleep. Seems to help a little more every time.”
As the long dark tresses fall off her hands and settle on her shoulders, she says, “This place is so beautiful. I can’t believe I don’t remember…” She touches her bandaged temple. “Must be this stupid injury. I can’t imagine anything else that could make me forget a place like this.”
Yeah, I can imagine one thing.
How about a desperate, lying SOB who’s not really your husband?
I don’t know what to say. For a second, guilt roils my blood, quickly overruled by cold logic.
“You look thirsty. Cash said you should stay hydrated. Let me get you something to drink.”
Back in the kitchen, I remember she didn’t finish her pineapple juice. Too sweet, maybe, so I open a bottle of tea, pour it in a glass of ice, and carry it out to her.
“Mango flavored. Hope you like it.”
She smiles as I hand her the glass. “I was hoping for iced tea. And if anybody hates mango, maybe they need their heads checked for amnesia. Something’s clearly wrong.”
Good call on my part. Lying shouldn’t be this easy. I take the lounge seat next to her, trying not to dwell on this charade fuckery.
“Did you really build this place?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“All of it?” Her mouth goes for the tea, taking a long pull off the glass. Far more seductive than it should be.
“Most of it,” I growl, trying not to let my dick run off with my head. “Had some help with a few parts like the wiring and plumbing, but the carpentry was mine.”
“When?”
“Just finished the final touches about a couple months ago.”
Hard to believe. A few months later, and here I am with a chick crashing in my digs who I can’t even have a normal fucking conversation with.
Valerie nods, sipping her tea. “So that’s why it looks so unlived in. Where did we live before moving here?”
“Honolulu.” That’s where I’d been with Bryce for years, and it’s where her family lives, too.
“We’re on the other side of the island, aren’t we? Farther north?” She smiles like she’s talking about some far-off land. Not the other side of an island that hardly takes an hour or two to drive across.
I wonder how much she ever traveled. Or was she shut up and sheltered?
“Yeah, right near Punaluu,” I tell her. “Lots of green. Nice mountains. Organic farms. Small towns. Just how I like it.”
She smiles real sweet. “Funny how you can live on an island this small, but never take the time to appreciate what’s in your own backyard. If I never did before, I’m sorry. I guess that’s the silver lining…seeing everything with fresh eyes.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her there’s no damn silver lining at all.
What she said is true. I lived in California years ago, but only saw less than a fourth of the state. Moving to Hawaii, I explored every inch of Oahu the first few months, so when I sold my patent and was ready to build, I knew exactly where I wanted my place.