Page 58 of True Abandon

Shayna holds out a hand. “We heard you talking to the girl at the desk, and we really want to try them. Where can we get them?”

I blink a few times in disbelief they’re actually having this conversation with me. Right here. Right now.

“Online,” I answer.

Shayna bites her lip. “We’ll save that for the second honeymoon when we go home. We have plenty of toys in our room to keep us occupied.” She pulls Mark back to the cart.

Jax is giving me a discerning smirk. “Do I want to know?”

I ignore his question. “What do you want to do? Keep playing or head back?”

My tone must have sent a clear message that the rapport we had is gone because he bites his lip and looks down. His forehead is crinkled as he says, “Head back.”

I’m half relieved and half disappointed by his response.

While I don’t want to play the game anymore, it shouldn’t bother me that Jax is actually giving up on an opportunity to spend time with me. Yet, for some reason, it hurts.

We get into the cart and drive to the clubhouse. When we tell Mark and Shayna we’ll return the clubs, they’re more than excited to head off to what I assume will be a blissful afternoon in bed…sans ben wa balls, that is.

We walk to the clubhouse in silence and head to the shuttle that will take us to the hotel.

Jax sits in the front row while I go to the rear. A few more people come on board and spend the duration of the trip talking about their morning on the greens and their dinner plans for tonight. They’re loud and boisterous and a stark contrast to the two people anchoring the inside of the van, so far apart yet tethered to one other. I may not be near him, but I can feel him—I’m not sure if the connection is a noose or a lifeline, and it’s confusing the hell out of me.

I can’t see his face, but I can see his head. The entire ride it’s bowed and doesn’t move until we get to the Kauai Princess. He’s the first off the shuttle, and I wait my turn as the six other people unload.

He appears at my side as I step down off the shuttle. I walk slowly toward the hotel with Jax next to me, and our feet are practically in synch as we march into the lobby and past the koi pond. We head down the open-air hallway to the elevator that leads to the Pele suite.

He hits the button for the elevator, which arrives promptly. As the doors open, I turn to go back to the lobby.

“Trish.”

The imploring tone in his voice forces me to turn around. He’s standing in front of the elevator with his hands in his pockets, and his head bowed slightly, and his soulful caramel-colored eyes look straight into mine.

“I think I’ve been doing this wrong,” he says. The elevator closes behind him, but he doesn’t seem to care. “I don’t want to make you spend time with me. I want you to want to spend time with me. Is that something you’d be interested in doing?”

He quickly throws in, “Don’t answer that. I’d love for you to come out on a catamaran with me.”

“You mean one of those small tourist boats they rent on the beach?”

“I promise, if you come, I won’t make you do anything else. We’ll just spend time together for the rest of the afternoon, and that’s it. Then, I’ll spend the next two days hanging out by the pool. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Breaking eye contact, I turn my head to the side. For some unknown reason, water builds behind my eyes. I smash my lips together, hard, willing my brain to keep them behind my lids and dare not let a single one slip down my cheek.

This reaction scares the hell out of me—for a moment, I believed he was done wanting to be with me, and the idea of needing to be near him this badly is the absolute worst thing I could feel.

Jax Davis has the power to destroy me.

I muster up some sass. “Are you worried I’m going to make you dress up as Elvis and sing Blue Hawaii at the next luau?”

Not even fazed by my response he offers me a weak grimace. “I’m worried you’ll spend so much time trying to find the next great way to hurt, annoy, or embarrass me that you’ll miss out on actually getting to know me.”

I don’t know why, but against my better judgment, I throw all caution aside. “Fine.”

chapter TWELVE

Since I don’t have a bathing suit, my golf attire will have to do for our catamaran ride. Jax left his cargo shorts and navy t-shirt on, probably out of fear that if he went upstairs to change, I’d bolt.

We’re standing on the sandy beach of Kalapaki Bay. The cove is partially protected from the open ocean by a break in the rocky wall of mountains that surround it.