Page 65 of The Wrong Fiancée

We ate in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the town—conversations, distant laughter, the occasional car passing by—creating the perfect backdrop. I hadn't realized how much I needed this—just a day off, a day to enjoy life.

By the time we finished lunch and walked out of the café, there was a spring in my step, one that hadn't been there for years, maybe since before my father died.

Tate lit a cigar as we strolled back toward the car, passing a few more galleries on the way, but I wasn't in a rush. I wasn't thinking about…well,anything. I was just...here, living in the present.

Tate turned to me as we reached his Range Rover, that easygoing smile still on his face. "Had a good time?"

A genuine smile spread across my face. "I did. Thanks for this, Tate. I really needed it."

"Good." He leaned against the car as he took one last puff of his cigar. "Now, we have six more days of this."

"Of what?"

"Playing tourist, darling Elika." He winked at me. "Dean will be here tonight, and he's also taking time off work to be with you. I think it's just what you both need."

I got into the car and waited until he was settled in the driver's seat. "Are you matchmaking, Tate?"

"Nah. The match is already made. I'm just being a good father and cleaning up my son's major fuck up." He started the car and, once we were on the road, turned to me. "This was fucking awesome. So, where should we go tomorrow?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Let me think about it."

Chapter Twenty-Three

DEAN

Iwas jealous of my father.

He and Elika had spent the day in Hanapepe playing tourists and were now best friends. Dad had convinced Elika to stay at the beach house for the week she had off—which I don't think I could have swung.

As we drove to Ka Pono—my father had insisted on joining Elika as I had—they both chatted away while I sat in the back seat, feeling very much like the third wheel.

Elika hadn’t talked to me, saying she wasn’t interested at one point and wasn’t ready at another. I didn’t want to push her. For now, she was under the same roof, and I’d take that as a win—even if it meant needing Dad's help to make it happen.

"Hello, Noelani, I'm Tate Archer." Dad extended his hand to Noe, who shook it with ill grace.

"What? You don’t like coming here alone anymore? Now you need to bring company?" Noe demanded.

"Actually, I insisted," Dad replied before Elika could say a word. He had noticed, just as I had, how Elika seemed to brace herself as we walked from the parking lot to the rehab center, like she was preparing to step into a combat zone. And now, seeing Noe, he understood why.

"Why?" Noe asked.

"Because Elika is important to my family, and you'reherfamily," Dad said easily, looking around Noe's room. "This is a nice place."

"Is it?" Noe's whine grated on my nerves.

"Noe—" Elika began, but my father cut her off.

"It's a damn nice place," Dad continued, "one of my friends was a paraplegic, lost his legs in Afghanistan. His rehab center at the VA was not quite this fancy."

Noe snorted but didn't say anything.

She must have been a good-looking woman at one time, but now bitterness had twisted her face. Her anger had transformed her.

"How about we go to the beach again?" Elika suggested.

"Because you have these big, strong men to help you?"

Everything Noe said had a tinge of cruelty. It must be exhausting for Elika. It was for me.

---