Snapping a clean sheet open, he begins to make the bed, bending over to fit the corners around the mattress.
“I work at the surf school when I’m available, for the most part,” he says as he gets on the bed and fits the sheet on the corner against the wall. “If Allan needs me one day, then we can head over and you can hang out on the beach for a few while I do my thing, if you want to. As far as Big Wave Surf Shop, Braedon won’t mind picking up my slack for a while—we own the place together.”
“Oh, really?” I ask, surprised.
He nods with a shrug. “Yeah, it’s nothing like the business I owned with Landon, but I like things simple.”
He begins to slide the first pillow of three down into a green case, wedging the pillow underneath his chin.
“So whadya say?”
“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.” I’m still trying to convince myself that this is a good idea.
“Then it’s settled,” he says, and tosses the last pillow down. “You’re my guest while you’re in Hawaii and you might find your stay at,” he waves his hand dramatically across the room, “the Everett House pleasant and relaxing, not to mention free—you’ll have to give it a five-star rating on that alone.” One side of his mouth tugs into a grin.
I try to hold in my own grin, but I don’t do so well.
“Well, how’s the service around here?” I joke, crossing my arms and popping my hip. “Will there be a complimentary breakfast waiting for me when I get up?”
He straightens his back, raises his chin importantly, and says sophisticatedly, “Oh, absolutely. I’m quite the cook, too, I should warn you in advance.”
“Really?” I smirk playfully. “Why do I need to be warned?” He smiles with confidence. “Because once you eat one of my dishes, you’ll never want to leave.”
I kind of already never want to leave …
“So what’ll it be?” he says. “A hotel crammed full of tourists, a bagel and a tiny carton of orange juice as a complimentary breakfast, and six months’ worth of rent just to pay for the hotel? Or a free room steps away from a quiet beach owned by a guy who can make a tire taste good, and not to mention”—his grin deepens and he sweeps his hands from his chest downward—“who looks like this?”
I burst out laughing.
Luke is trying not to, but like me, he doesn’t do so well.
I think on it a little longer, looking at the nicely made bed and, yes, the guy standing in front of me who is as sweet as he is gorgeous.
“All right.” I finally give in, and his face lights up. “I’ll stay here—but no funny stuff!”
He surrenders again, his smile the broadest I’ve seen it in hours. “Nope. I’m a total gentleman.” The smirk that follows sends a tickling sensation up the back of my neck.
We share a quiet and serious moment together, Luke looking across the room at me now that I’ve found my way to his bed, sitting down on the edge with my feet barely touching the floor. Slowly he walks over and crouches down in front of me. He looks up into my eyes, and I feel like I’m falling deeper and deeper into them the longer he’s there. His lips are wordless, yet an unmistakable array of words flutter within his eyes. Words that I wish more than anything I could hear and understand so that I can once and for all unravel the mystery that is Luke Everett.
He reaches up a hand and touches the side of my face lightly with his fingertips. It’s such an intimate gesture that it confuses me slightly, but I want it there and I can’t bring myself to do or say anything that would make him pull away.
“Thank you for staying,” he says softly and then his hand slowly falls away.
“Thank you for letting me stay.”
Luke smiles and pushes himself to his feet.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he says. “Do whatever you want. Eat and drink what you want. Watch TV. Play the stereo. Just make yourself at home.”
He leaves me sitting on the edge of his bed with my thoughts as he disappears around the corner. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to go and I fight my instinct to pull him back.
What is happening to me?