Faker - Sarah Smith Page 0,116
stomping grounds.”
“How exciting!” The sound of Lynn joyfully clapping her hands is interrupted by her cell phone. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen her frown. “I’m sorry, my son is home sick from school today and is calling me for the third time this morning. Good Lord, teenagers. I have to take this.”
She steps out into the hallway and shuts the door, leaving me to work out the surprise Tate’s sprung on me in front of Will. But then Will pops out of his seat, phone in hand.
“I’ve got an online auction to commandeer. You two take your time. Oh, and congrats! Happy for you kids!”
Will flies out of his office, shutting the door behind him.
I turn to Tate. “Are you serious? How did you . . . What are you . . . What the hell?” I’m a string of incomplete questions. I scoff and laugh at once. “You’re crazy.”
“Maybe. But you already said you’d go away with me.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” I would remember if I had agreed to go on vacation with my work-enemy-turned-boyfriend.
“At the hospital, you said the two of us could never work. Remember?”
“Yes.” I’m chuckling in that uncontrollable, giddy way where the more I try to stop myself, the harder I laugh.
“Then I asked if we could go away and make things right. You said you would.”
Knowing that Tate flipped it into a reality makes me beam from the inside out. He reaches over and wipes a tear from my cheek. I must be crying.
“They’re happy tears,” I sniffle.
He leans over and kisses my cheek just as another tear rolls down.
“You must have been planning this trip for a while,” I say. He nods.
Then it dawns on me. “The travel book on your desk! So sneaky.”
He turns his chair so he’s facing me.
“This will cost a fortune, Tate. I’m not letting you pay for it all. I’ll write you a check—”
He tucks my hair behind my ear. “No, you won’t. This is my gift to you. You’re letting me into your life.”
I shake my head until I start to feel dizzy. This has to be a dream.
“My parents had a bunch of frequent-flier miles they weren’t going to use. When I told them about the vacation, they insisted on giving them to me. The flights won’t cost a cent. I found an affordable condo rental not far from Magic Sands. It’s all taken care of. You just have to pack a bag and come with me.”
“You say you want me to show you around, but I don’t know how much I’ll remember. I haven’t visited since I was a teenager.” I can barely sputter out the words. I’m still stunned in disbelief.
“You’ll manage. Besides, this haole can’t handle big bad Hawaii on his own.”
I snort a snotty laugh.
“I want to see where you grew up. I want to go to the farmers markets with you.” He kisses the side of my neck, and I shiver. “I want to climb a palm tree and fetch a pineapple for you.” His tone is soft, encouraging.
“Pineapples don’t grow on trees.”
“Then I’ll buy you one at a fruit stand.”
He grabs my hand and gives me the most loving, gentle squeeze. I imagine he’ll hold me the exact same way when we’re walking along the sugar-sand beaches.
“And then we’ll turn it into a paperweight for your desk,” I say.
He beams at me, the joy reaching all the way to his eyes. “I would love that.”
“When are we going?”
He grabs a tissue from Will’s desk and wipes my face with it. “In two weeks. We’re staying for ten days. We’ll be there during the Ironman race.”
“What? I’ve been dying to go back for Ironman since forever.”
He runs a hand through my hair. “One downside though. Our flight leaves at like five in the morning, and we have a four-hour layover. It’s going to be an exhausting travel day. Think you can handle it?”
“Absolutely,” I say. “How on earth did you manage all this? How did you know how happy this would make me?”
“Pining after you for the past several months was a good start. The expression on your face every time you looked at that photo on your desk was a dead giveaway of how much you wanted to be back in Hawaii.”
I lean over and pull his face into my hands. The kiss I plant on him is heated, wet, sloppy, and salty. This level of smooch should never be allowed in any