I laughed. “No actually it’s a Kia.”
She snorted but said nothing as she collected her luggage from the baggage claim. When she tried to pass the bags off to Miller, I bit the inside of my cheek and lunged forward to grab them myself. There was a look of determination on his tanned face, and he shook his head.
“I’ve got this, Willow.” I didn’t miss the dark look he shot at Jessica who was rapidly sending a text on her tablet-sized Samsung phone.
As we walked a couple feet in front of Miller, she peeked over her shoulder and gave him an appreciative twice-over. “You lucky bitch,” she said, shaking her head. When I raised my eyebrow, she continued, “You’re f**king two gorgeous guys, and I’ve been too swamped to do anything fun.”
I froze and looked her directly in the eye. The last thing I needed was for her to think Miller and I were sleeping together, or even worse, that Cooper and me and Miller were sleeping together. I shuddered at the thought. “It’s not like that, Jess. I’m . . .” I paused before saying happy. It felt wrong to admit that to her. “I’ve been busy, too. With work.”
Her lips parted slightly and she took another look at Miller. “So, the bodyguard—”
“Has a girlfriend,” I replied sharply.
As we drove her to her hotel—a fancy five-star place overlooking Waikiki—she chatted about the flight and all the clubs she’d found online in Honolulu. “We’re going dancing at Moose’s tonight,” she said, and I noticed a muscle tick in Miller’s cheek.
He was playing the role of big brother again, but this time I was glad. I glanced back at Jessica and gave her an apologetic smile. “I’ve got a scene to shoot first thing in the morning,” I explained, and she threw her long strawberry blonde hair back and laughed.
She caught Miller’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Is she f**king serious?” Then she held up a purple-manicured hand and shook her head. “You know what, never mind. We’ll have plenty of time to go dancing.”
“Dickson will skin me if I’m late,” I said. My producer had been detached ever since that day in his trailer when he’d admonished Cooper and me, and I felt like I was walking on thin glass whenever I was around him.
I didn’t need to screw up and show up for work late.
After we dropped Jessica off at her hotel, declining her invite up to her room, Miller drove me to Cooper’s place for my lesson. He was in the middle of instructing a small group of ten year olds, so I sat on the beach with Paige, watching him. All of his gestures were over the top and dramatic and the kids were laughing at something he was saying.
Cooper caught me staring and gave me a chest-clenching smile that I returned.
“How’d picking up your friend go?” Paige asked, breaking my daze. I glanced over to see she was holding her hand over her eyes like a visor, studying me.
I shrugged. “She wanted to know if she could move in on my bodyguard.”
Paige let out a laugh. “Hulk? God, I can’t imagine what he said about that.”
I hugged my knees, focusing my gaze back on Cooper as he showed the ten year olds how to pop up in the sand. I couldn’t resist thinking about my first day—okay, first few days—doing the same thing with him two months ago. I sighed. “Miller didn’t say anything because he probably doesn’t want to piss me off,” I admitted.
Paige lifted an eyebrow, ignoring Eric who had come out on the deck to yell for her. “My phone call can wait,” she said. She twisted her head to each side for a few seconds, biting her lower lip, before asking, “Would it piss you off?”
I swallowed hard. “No. Guess it makes me a shit friend that I want Jessica to leave already, huh?”
Paige rose to her feet, dusting the sand from the back of her bright red Billabong board shorts. “Sometimes I realize that those things that make me feel like a dickwad usually pop into my head for the best reasons.”
Leave it to Paige to mix in a giant dose of psychology.
When Cooper’s group lesson ended, he lifted his hand, grinning so that his dimple showed. He crooked his finger for me to join him at the shoreline and I gravitated to him, feeling the sand squish into my flip flops.
Jerking me flush to his body, he slid his hands down my shoulders. “You look like you’re ready to strangle someone,” he said. His fingertips pressed into the small of my back to close the gap between our bodies.
“Just tired,” I said.
“Want me to talk to Dickson about giving you some time off?” he asked teasingly and I shook my head.
“You’re not his favorite person,” I said, and he shrugged, releasing me.
“Story of my goddamn life.”
As we pushed our boards out into the white water, we talked about his surfing competition coming up in October. Every time I mentioned Jessica, he steered the conversation away to anything else. We talked about my work, his work, and even the new shipment of promo tees Blue Flame had gotten in earlier today. By the time he volunteered to take me back to my rental house a few hours later once our lesson had ended, my irritation had moved from Jessica to him.
“Please don’t tell me you’re turning into one of those possessive dickheads,” I said as I stalked through the house to my bedroom. I pulled the band from my hair, shaking the long strands out and then flipped each of my flip flops off, kicking them beneath the bed.
He turned on the radio by the bed and made a face when a Ke$ha song blasted throughout the tiny room. He slid the dial over until he found another station—this one with nothing but commercials.