Page 62 of Stone
With his hand on the doorjamb, his shoulders slumped. “Look, maybe we’ll take a ride later. I know you feel cooped up. I’ll show you some of the prettiest areas on the island. There’s thisincredible location that will give you some inspiration for your paintings.”
“I’d like that.”
He fisted and flexed his hand.
We were two entirely different people with no understanding of what to say to each other.
I watched him walk into the house and as I’d felt for years, loneliness crept in. I hadn’t truly embraced just how much our relationship had shaped me.
As I stared down at my palette of colors, I thought about what I wanted to paint. I had to put something on the canvas. Grabbing my brush, I dabbed the tip into bright fuchsia, yet nothing came to mind. Out of frustration, I swiped a long line down the perfectly white surface.
Then I laughed. There were reasons for my lack of inspiration. I left everything where it was, venturing into the house. The front door was just closing. I hesitated, but the awkwardness between us needed to stop. Silence wasn’t doing any good for either one of us.
As soon as I opened the door, I leaned against it.
Stone appeared more animated than he’d been other than when gunning down enemy forces.
While I couldn’t hear what was being said, I could swear he was barking orders.
The man he was talking to instantly noticed me. Whoever he was seemed to be fighting a grin. And Stone continued to barrage him with questions.
Suddenly, Stone stiffened and I heard a distinct growl. Now the larger man laughed.
“Island Time Tours?” I asked innocently enough, seeing the extremely colorful old Blazer, the detail reminding me of something I’d catch in a Jimmy Buffett video. I resisted laughing although there was an amused lilt in my voice. I’d snagged my phone on the way to the door and when I took a picture, the hulking mass of a man issued a wide grin, acting like he was going to pose.
Stone had a different baseball hat on backwards, the words ‘The Captain’ keeping me smiling.
The big Hawaiian standing with him leaned over, nodding several times as he walked closer.
When Stone didn’t react right away, I folded my arms and studied the man who’d come to take Stone on some cruise, his laid-back look similar to Stone’s appearance the last few days.
Another surprise.
If anyone had asked me twenty years ago if there was a chance of finding the big, brooding jockey in neon swim trunks and either a muscle tee shirt or Hawaiian shirt, I would have laughed in their face. Today, he had on floral print swim trunks and a light blue muscle tee. While he looked gorgeous, his skin kissed by the sun, I wasn’t used to thinking of him as a surfer boy.
But Stone had proven me wrong on both counts.
Every morning he’d come out just after sunrise. Little did he know I’d watched him snagging waves, even photographing him with the camera from the burner phone he’d bought for me.
He’d said nothing about his morning routine.
I was at the point of suffocating from silence.
At least on this gorgeous morning I had a smile on my face from seeing him in polarized sunglasses and flip-flops. Another first. From a lethal weapon to a beach boy. The contradiction was charming.
Very sensual.
And in our case, completely off limits.
I half expected he wouldn’t answer, even after it was obvious he’d said something to the visitor.
Stone turned, studying me exactly as I’d been doing with him. At least he broke out into a smile. “You just had to take another picture?”
“A few. Why? Are you camera shy?” I tossed back.
“He’s always that way. The tourists usually ask for a picture with Cap’n Jack, but he refuses,” the visitor said, much to Stone’s displeasure.
“Shut your mouth, Kekoa, or I’ll fire you.”
