Page 3 of One Night in Hawaii

“You can do anything. You’re Archer Ryatt.”

She wasn’t wrong. “Fine. What about Matthew?”

She waved a hand. “I’ll tell him I’m going.”

“What if he wants to come along?”

“No. I need a vacation from my life, including him.”

“I’ll make the call.”

My suitcases were already packed. I was a planner. All of the planning in the world didn’t mean shit when the other party had a change of heart. I hoped this little getaway wasn’t another mistake. But the idea of sticking around and listening to my parents and dealing with the looks of pity did not sound pleasant.

A solo honeymoon was sad, but it was the better of two evils.

2

SHILOH

Ikicked my legs, my face focused on the sunlight above. I broke through the surface and held up the mesh bag. “Got ‘em!”

I doubted Ryder understood a word I said around the regulator in my mouth. He gave me a thumbs-up as I swam closer to the boat bobbing up and down in the turquoise water. I pushed up my mask and pulled out the regulator.

Ryder reached down and took the bag, dropping the coral samples onto the deck before reaching down to help me on board.

“Looks like you have a stowaway,” he said with a laugh.

“What?”

He reached behind me and pulled. He flashed a grin and held up a squid. “This guy.”

“There he is,” I said, laughing. “He was very interested in what I was doing down there.”

I shrugged the tank off while Ryder put the squid back in the water. I sat on the bench and took off my flippers. My wetsuit was like a second skin. I wore a wetsuit more than I wore normal clothes. I grabbed the bag with my booty and headed below deck. I carefully put the samples on the tiny dining table and opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water. I spent so much time in the water, but I was always thirsty.

Ryder came down the stairs a second later. “Did you get what you needed?”

“I think so.” I sucked down my water. “Just in time, too.”

“Is the weekend already over?” Ryder groaned and slid into the bench seat.

“Your weekend is over. The rest of us still have to work.”

“Yes, your work is so hard,” he joked. “You dive every day. You live on a boat and float around the most beautiful place on earth.”

“If you’re trying to get me to feel sorry for you, it’s not going to work,” I said, smiling. “You spend your days surfing. It’s not like you’re wearing a stuffy suit and stuck inside an office all day.”

“True, but I have to deal with people. People that think surfing is so easy and they’re just going to paddle out and ride a wave. The worst are the guys.”

“You’re a guy.”

“I’m a guy that knows how to surf,” he said, grinning. “I can back up the shit I talk. These guys show up from Nebraska and think their cornfed asses are strong enough to handle the ocean.”

I laughed at the image. “I do like my life.”

“What’s your next gig?” he asked.

I made my living helping out with research projects for the university and a few private companies. I was self-employed. I got to live on my boat, going from one port to the next. My boat wasn’t much, but it was enough. I didn’t have to pay rent. I didn’t have to commute to work. I rolled out of bed and literally fell into work.

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