My Single-versary (Happy Endings 0.50)

Brady leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, his expression earnest. “Look, you may decide this woman is worth the risk. Just think it through. It’s not like you to be cavalier about this stuff. You’ve always put the business first.”

“You’re right.” I run my hand down my face. “This is my business. Everyone who works here is counting on me.”

It was one thing to throw out the rule book while caught up in sunset kisses. But in the light of day? That’s not strategic. That’s not me.

“I’ll cancel tonight,” I say. “Better to quit and hit the reset button than drag things out. Skyler will understand.”

“Just tell her something came up with work and you have to bow out.”

I like Skyler too much to lie to her. But it’s not entirely untrue. Something did come up with work—all the reasons why I have these rules and why I should never break them.

That’s a lot to set aside while I do my job today. Especially since my job includes the distraction of Skyler in the flesh—flesh I’m well acquainted with after last night. Add in worry about hurting her feelings and whether I should think anything about the text I received just before I left the office . . .

Skyler: Hi. I decided to take the hotel van to the Marriott so you only have to make one pick-up this morning. Makes it easier for everyone.

I am ninety percent sure she did it because everyone is still feeling queasy after the fish apocalypse. The other ten percent gnaws at me as I welcome the tour guests onto the shuttle.

“How are you holding up, Mrs. Smith? Glad to see you on your feet, Mr. Cooper. Looking fantastic this morning, Mrs. Wainwright . . .”

I turn from giving the older woman a hand up the steps, and there is Skyler, waiting to board.

“Oh, hey there. You look fantastic too.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

I frown at something in her tone. “Is everything okay? You seem . . .”

Tired?

Distant?

“I’m great.” She sounds cheery, but a little like she’s reading from a script.

“So, about tonight . . .”

Yep. I’m about to make things worse.

“Tonight?” she echoes.

“I have to cancel. There’s a meeting—something’s come up at work.”

“Work has a way of doing that. Don’t worry about it.”

There’s still something off about her tone, but I let it go as she climbs onto the bus. We have a schedule, and I have a guilty conscience, so possibly I’m projecting.

Standing at the front of the aisle, I grab the mic, smiling a welcome at all the guests. “Good morning. I’m relieved to see you all pulled through. Count yourselves as true adventurers, having faced adversity and survived to tell the tale.”

“Trust me, this is a fish tale you don’t want to hear,” groans Mr. Cooper. The heckling is weaker today, but still a good sign that he’s on the mend.

“You are absolutely right about that,” I say. “I thought we’d keep it low-key today, so we’ll postpone the sea turtles and visit a couple of waterfalls this morning.”

At their murmurs of approval, I slide into the driver’s seat and put the bus in gear, adjusting the mic so I can finish my spiel. “Some of the falls on the island are breathtaking, and this is one of my favorite sites. You don’t see waterfalls like this where I’m from in California. I hope you’ll feel as wonderstruck as I am every time I visit. For now, just sit back and enjoy the scenery.”

But even though I love Hawaii, even though island life is what I live and breathe for, something about the scenery seems lacking as we hurtle toward the final few stops on the tour.

14

Skyler

California?

That’s what he said. Where I’m from in California.

Why am I reeling from this? Everyone is from somewhere.

But it was like I only had to follow one hallway, then someone threw open an unexpected door that led to more doors and now I have all these chances to choose the wrong one.

When the bus stops and the passengers exit and disperse through the park, I hang back while Caleb directs the guests toward the trailheads and lookout points. As soon he returns to the shuttle, I pounce.

“You’re from California?” I ask.

He blinks, startled, and yeah, I meant to ease into that a little. But now that I’ve jumped, I have to follow the zip-line down. “Like, you were raised there and moved here?”

“No, I live there,” he says. “My friend Brady handles most of the operations on the island, and I focus on California. We have a lot of adventure tours there too. I was going to mention it last night, but I got . . . distracted.”

My skin heats in a blush that spreads up my neck and across my chest, and memories have stolen my breath. “Same here. I think I was distracted too.”