When I Fall in Love(15)
“Take her with you.”
“Parasailing? Cliff-diving?”
Silence.
“I thought so.”
“Dude, you owe Owen.”
“Now you’re just playing dirty.”
“If that’s what it takes. But I promised Eden you’d keep her safe, make sure she has a good time, and I need you, Max. I’m using my nice voice and I’ll even add in please, but I’m not really asking.”
Max wanted to throw the phone. “Fine. I’ll pick her up at the airport. And make sure she gets to the resort. But that’s it. After that, she’s on her own. That’s the best I can do.”
Jace went quiet and Max braced himself. Then heard, “Okay. Deal.”
“When is she arriving?”
“She’s on an early flight tomorrow to LAX, then to Hawaii.”
“Okay. Tell her I’ll meet her in baggage claim in Honolulu.”
“That would be great. I think she’s a little queasy about flying, so she’ll be glad to know there is someone waiting for her. I’ll send you her flight information.”
Perfect.
“And, Max? No hanky-panky.”
Max hung up on him.
BY THE TIME Max touched down in LAX on his first leg to Hawaii, he’d formed a game plan: find Grace Christiansen and set some ground rules. Like, he’d be glad to make sure she got to class the first day, but he wasn’t her tour guide. Wasn’t her entertainment. Wasn’t her date.
No hanky-panky. Jace’s words still burned in his ears. As if he’d fool around with Owen Christiansen’s sister. Or anyone.
He wasn’t that stupid, wasn’t that heartless.
He liked having fun, but not at the expense of everyone’s future.
Max hitched his carry-on messenger bag over his shoulder. He’d packed it full of culinary magazines and a political thriller. Just in case the movie on the next flight was something lame, like a Marvel Comics remake. Better to nose into his reading material and set his playlist on a loop for the hop over the ocean.
Vacation started now, regardless of the ball and chain Jace had hooked him up with. Which he planned to shake off as soon as his guilt would allow.
After all, he did owe Owen. The thought never drifted far from his mind, not once over the past five months, so Jace really didn’t need to throw it in his face. Still, it didn’t mean Max had to saddle himself with some needy tourist for three weeks. The only three weeks where he forgot his life, escaped his tomorrows.
Max stopped at a Starbucks and picked up a latte, then headed to the gate.
He found the waiting area jammed with travelers. People rested their feet on their carry-on bags, some chowing down McChickens, a few standbys checking their flight status. He leaned against a pole and surveyed the group, looking for someone who might resemble Eden, Jace’s pretty fiancée. It might have been helpful if Jace had texted a picture along with the flight number—conveniently the same as Max’s.
Eden had blonde hair and knew how to carry herself. In fact, in a way, she scared him. It had taken all his courage to call her from the hospital the night of Owen’s accident. So if Grace was anything like Eden, she’d be uptight and a little scary. The perfect travel companion.
Or maybe she was the opposite—easygoing, almost reckless. Irresponsible.
That might be worse.
Well, he wasn’t going to let Grace Christiansen destroy his vacation, regardless of her persona. He wouldn’t be a jerk; he’d just introduce himself and remind her that, although they might be cooking together, the camaraderie ended there. He had a full agenda of surfing, parasailing, snorkeling, hiking, and beach bumming scheduled.
Alone. It was just better that way.
He spied a girl leaning against the wall. Short blonde hair, pretty, wearing green cargo pants, hiking sandals, a tie-dyed scarf around her hair. Maybe in her midtwenties. She seemed put together, in a crunchy-granola kind of way. He knew Grace was a couple years younger than Eden and worked as a chef . . .
Could be her.
He walked closer, just to do a drive-by, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
She looked up, away from him, but he caught the glint of something silver. He risked it and waited for her to look back.
A lip ring protruded from her bottom lip. It seemed unlikely for Grace, of the conservative Christiansen family.
He kept moving, glancing at the passengers, his gaze lingering on anyone who might look his age. His eyes fell on a woman sitting at the end of the row, her mouth tight, her blonde hair in a neat ponytail, bangs tucked behind her ears. She wore a jean jacket, a pink shirt underneath, and a pair of white jeans with fancy strappy heels. He guessed her to be an LA girl, maybe heading to Hawaii for a summer break. She crossed her legs, her arms folded, and watched foot traffic as if annoyed.