She felt as if she were the only one awake this early, as if she had the entire Pacific to herself. A sudden, fierce urge to stand at the water’s edge to greet the sunrise washed over her.
Why not? How many chances like this would she have?
She hurried back to her room and threw on the first thing she grabbed in the closet, a soft, loose sundress the color of newly ripe peaches. She quickly pulled her tangled hair into a loose ponytail and picked up the video baby monitor she sometimes still used when Grace was sick, grateful for the impulse to pack it at the last minute.
A quick check of the screen told her the girls were still sleeping soundly, so she unplugged the little monitor and slipped it into her pocket, then walked out into the quiet.
The sun hovered just below the horizon, the puffy clouds glowing orange and pink and pale lavender in the gathering light. She could hardly take her eyes off it as she turned to walk down the ramp of the lanai to the sand.
Only then did she notice three boogie boards propped next to the front door. Two of them had little clear windows for looking beneath the surface.
She stared. What in the world?
A note was attached to the biggest one, written on resort stationery that flapped in the breeze. She pulled it off, knowing instantly who had left these on the porch.
“We can’t let Gracie miss the fish,” Shane had written in bold, masculine handwriting.
She pressed one hand to her mouth as she reread the note, warmth spreading through her like baby breakers reaching the shore.
She couldn’t believe he’d gone to so much trouble on their behalf. She ran her fingers along the smooth curve of the largest board.
If she wasn’t careful, she could be in very grave danger of falling for a man like him.
She’d have to use extreme caution over the next few days. She couldn’t afford to risk her heart, not when she had two girls who depended on her to be strong.
After tucking the note in her pocket with the monitor, she walked barefoot down the steps. The sand was cool and soft between her toes as she walked to the water’s edge, the warm, sweetly scented trade winds rippling the cotton of her dress around her legs.
Shorebirds walked on gawky legs in the froth, and a few more wheeled and called overhead. She headed back to the dry sand and sat down, knees to her chest, to watch them as the sun inched higher and painted the clouds with more vivid color.
She was alone with the birds until she spied somebody jogging in her direction from the far edge of the beach.
She knew who it was even before she could make out his features in the pale light. She recognized the breadth of those shoulders, the brown hair glinting with streaks from the sun. Of course, the faded gray Chicago Police Department T-shirt was a bit of a giveaway.
The instant he spotted her, he changed course and headed in her direction.
“You’re up early this morning,” he said when he was close enough to speak without yelling. “The time change must be messing with you, too.”
“I decided a Hawaiian sunrise was too rare an event in my chilly Chicago life to miss.”
“The girls are still asleep?”
She pulled the monitor from her pocket and held it out for him to see.
“That’s handy.”
“It has a range of a hundred-fifty feet. I can be back in the cabana in a second.”
To her discomfort, he plopped down beside her, all those hard muscles just inches away. Again, she had to force herself not to stare, focusing instead on his kindness to her and the twins.
“Thank you for the boogie boards. That was a lovely thing to do.”
He shrugged, his expression embarrassed in the glowing sunrise slanting over his features. “I only rented them. I figured, what are you going to do with boogie boards back in Chicago?”
“It’s still wonderful.”
“It was a complete whim. I headed into Lihue last night for dinner and there was a surf shop open right next to the restaurant, advertising board rentals. It seemed like fate.”
“The girls will be thrilled. I was tempted to wake them up for a test run the minute I saw them on the porch. Fortunately, I came to my senses in time and decided to enjoy five minutes of quiet.”
His mouth twisted into a smile. “Until I came running along to disturb the peace.”
He definitely disturbed her peace, but not for the reasons he probably thought. She wasn’t about to tell him otherwise, though.
“What are you three planning today?”
She pointed to the water. “Sand, surf, sun. That about covers it.”
His low laugh sent nerves shivering down her spine—which only intensified when he shifted closer to her, stretching out long legs covered in dark hair.
“Are you interested in a drive around the island a little later? I wouldn’t mind playing tour guide. We could go see a couple waterfalls I know, visit some quiet beaches, maybe head up to Kailua.”
The invitation both thrilled and terrified her. Spending a few hours in a car with the man likely wasn’t the best way to protect her heart.
“I don’t know,” she stalled. “Things can be hard with Grace’s chair. She can use the walker most of the time, but we would have to take the wheelchair along in case she gets too tired.”
“I rented a big Jeep. There should be plenty of room for the chair and walker in the back, and I can easily lift her in and out.”
She should say no. The word hovered on her tongue. But the girls would love to see one of the plummeting waterfalls the island was known for and a little more of the island than this stretch of beach outside their cabana.
She supposed she could always arrange for a rental car and venture out on her own, but spending time with him was much more appealing. The twins would certainly love it, given how drawn they were to him.
“That could be fun,” she finally allowed, though she wanted to call the words back the moment she said them.
“Great. Shall we say noon? That’ll give you time to play around in the water for a while. And I know the girls have a hula lesson this morning, too. We can grab lunch on the way somewhere and still be back for the rehearsal dinner tonight.”
Ah, yes. The rehearsal dinner. Nick and Cara wanted the twins in the wedding party. They had to practice their role, which meant Megan wouldn’t be able to manufacture a convenient excuse to skip it.
“Sure. Okay. That would work.”
From the monitor, she heard a little cough that her maternal instinct told her came from Grace. She pulled it out to check and saw that both girls were still sleeping, cough notwithstanding.
“Everything okay?”
“For now. They’re pretty sound sleepers. I think I’m still safe for a few more moments.”
She turned her face back to the sunrise, which exploded with color now above the horizon.
“It must be hard, on your own with twins.”
She flashed him a look and saw his expression was compassionate, not judgmental. “Some things are hard. I won’t lie about that. Two parent-teacher conferences, two sets of homework every night, two girls nagging me in the store to buy them a treat. Most of the time they’re a joy, though. I wouldn’t trade our life for anything.”
“Do you ever wonder if things might