Page 67 of Hula Girl

She laughs and squeezes my forearm. Looking back at me, she whispers, “Where did you come from?”

“All I know is I’m right where I want to be,” I tell her, and she practically swoons, leaning into me.

When she looks back at the field, I can feel her release any worries she’s had with a deep exhale.

“This is the kind of romance you like, isn’t it? Good seats at a baseball game is all it takes,” I tease.

“You have no idea.”

“No?”

“You’ve just swept me off my feet, Surfer Boy.”

Smiling, I lean down and kiss her, soft and slow. Pulling away, she turns around and looks up at me. We share a silent moment, each of us with a small, satisfied smile on our faces. Then I stroke her cheek before cupping it.

“Are you ready for this?” I ask and glance at the field.

She places her hand on my hip, her fingers slipping just inside the waistband of my shorts. “I’m so ready it scares me,” she says softly.

Squinting at her, I try to make sense of that.

“They’ve got to win, right?” she says quickly.

Now I get it. I was asking about the game, and she was replying about something completely different. About us.

But the admission spooked her, and now she’s brushing it off. I’ll let her off the hook on it—for now. This afternoon is supposed to be all about her experiencing her beloved Dodgers in a new way, after all.

* * *

Our seats are first row,with the protective foul ball netting the only thing between us and the field. With drinks, Dodger Dogs, and a competitive game, we’ve got it made.

Ava is very serious about her baseball. She knows all the players, including their strengths, shortcomings, and quirks. We talk easily as we watch the game, and I share with her my history of playing in high school.

“Oh god, I’d love to see you in a baseball uniform,” she says, turning to me with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“I’ll do that when you wear a hula girl outfit.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” She raises her eyebrows at me playfully.

Because I find it very hard not to do so whenever I possibly can, I slide my hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, pull her to me, and kiss her deeply. She’s sexy and fun, and I don’t want this to end.

I pull away from her abruptly when I realize what I’ve just thought. She looks at me with a mixture of confusion and amusement before shrugging off my sudden withdrawal and turning her attention back to the game.

Gulping down the rest of my beer, I finally understand what she was trying to do by saying we shouldn’t get invested in each other. There are consequences to this. It’s temporary pleasure with the promise of future heartache, because neither of us is willing to change our lives. Hers is here, pursuing her career. Mine is in Maui, pursuing my peace.

Thing is, I’m already a goner for this girl.

27

Ava

Ican’t get used to the weight of this ring on my finger. It’s distracting me from focusing on the conference call blaring from my office speakerphone.

It is a stunning piece of jewelry. I’ve found myself gesturing an awful lot with my left hand ever since he slipped the ring on me yesterday afternoon.

That it was only yesterday that this happened is hard to believe. Taking me to that Dodgers game is just as hard to absorb.

Our hometown boys won and to celebrate, I had Ford take us to my favorite taco food truck near the stadium. We ate one taco after another, standing under a streetlamp in the street, until we were ridiculously full.

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