Read Taking the Plunge Online

Authors: E. L. Todd

Taking the Plunge

BOOK: Taking the Plunge
9.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

 

 

Taking the Plunge

 

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyrig
ht © 2014 by E. L. Todd

All Rights Reserved

ISBN-13: 978-1494480585

ISBN-10:
1494480581

 

 

Taking the Plunge

 

Book Four
of the Hawaiian Crush Series

 

 

 

 

 

 

E. L. Todd

1

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Nancy said as she took a sip of her margarita.

Sydney blushed. “Well, the honeymoon lasted a little longer than expected.”

“It’s still going,” Coen said as he opened the door. He kissed Sydney on the
forehead then rubbed his nose against hers. “You need anything?”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “Can I just hang out with my friend alone?”

Coen smiled. “Oh. Ladies night. Got it.”

Nancy waved him away. “Shoo.”

He laughed then walked back inside.

“Are you pregnant yet?” Nancy asked.

Sydney laughed. “Hell no.”

“Good. I would
n’t want any seahorse babies yet.”

Sydney smiled as she stirred her drink.
“Someday.”

“I’m happy for you,” Nancy said as she looked out at the ocean. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

“It was. I wish I could go back.”

“You’ll get your wedding pictures soon.”

“I’m excited for those,” Sydney said as she sipped her drink. “So, what’s new with you?”

Nancy shrugged.
“Nothing, really.”

“How are you and Derek?”

“The same.”

“Which means?”

Nancy didn’t know what to do about him. There were rare moments when Derek could be a sweetheart, but most of the time he was just an insensitive jerk. The sex was great, but the relationship was missing the important things. “I don’t think we’re going to last.”

“Really?”
Sydney said sadly.

“I keep waiting for him to change but he never does. There are times when I feel like he really cares about me, but then he does something stupid that acts
as a direct contradiction to that belief. All the guys I date are jerks, I swear.”

“Well, there aren’t too many keepers out there.”

“You’re lucky you found Coen.”

“Yeah,” she said with a dreamy
smile. “But he was an ass when we met.”

“But he’s a good ass. He’s honest and loyal. If he’s rude, it’s usually for a good reason.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Sydney said with a smile. “It’ll feed his already huge ego.”

Nancy held her glass in her hand, feeling th
e cold condensation on her skin. “Henry told me you got a tattoo.”

She blushed. “I did.”

“Wow. Sydney Quartz got a tattoo?”

“It’s Sydney Marshall now.”

“That’s right!” Coen yelled from the inside of the house.

Nancy raised an eyebrow. “Is he eavesdropping?”

“No. I think the window is open.”

“Anyway, you really got a tattoo?”

“It hurt so much,” she said as she touched her hip. “But it was worth it. I know Coen likes it.”

“What did you get?”

“A seahorse.”

Nancy nodded. “That makes sense. That’s really cute.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile.

The television suddenly became very loud. The sound of gun shots and
commands over radio static played on their ears.

“Got you!”
Coen yelled.

“I’ll kill you
,” someone said.

Nancy recognized that voice. “Derek is here?”

Sydney looked surprised. “I didn’t know he was coming over.” She stood up and walked to the door. Nancy followed her.

Both men were
sitting on the couch, playing with the controllers while they played a war video game on the screen. Coen yelled when Derek shot him in the head.

“Take that, motherfucker,” Derek said with a laugh.

Sydney looked at Coen, who had his eyes glued to the screen. “I didn’t know Derek was coming over.”

Coen kept playing. “You told me you were having a girl’s night so I invited him over.”

“Which defeats the point of a girl’s night,” Sydney snapped.

“Come on, baby. I can’t have people over?”

“That isn’t what I said.”

Derek’s player died in the video game
and he sighed, feeling defeated. He put the controller down and walked toward Nancy. “Hey, baby. Having fun?” He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a quick kiss.

Nancy was paralyzed. It was moments like
that when she fell for him, seeing his sensitive and loving side. If he stayed this way all the time they wouldn’t have a problem. “Yeah, we were just drinking some margaritas.”

“Cool. I’ll drive you home so you can get a little crazy.”

Nancy’s eyes softened. She loved it when he made sweet gestures like that. “Okay.”

“I’m
going to get back to the game.”

“Okay.”

He smiled at her then returned to the seat.

Coen glared at him. “Are you done making out with your girlfriend?”

“Are you done fucking your wife?” Derek snapped. “I haven’t heard from you in a week.”

“I’m never done fucking my wife.” He winked at Sydney then continued the game.

Sydney smiled. “They can be so sweet then it just goes to shit.”

Nancy sighed.
“Yep. Exactly.”

They went back outside and sat on the porch, fresh margaritas in their hands.

“How’s Henry?” Sydney asked. “I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

Nancy smiled. “He’s been—busy.”

Sydney laughed. “I bet he is.”

“He was so depressed when Renee left him. I’m sure he’s soaking her up as much as possible.”

“I guess we were both on our honeymoon.”

Nancy laughed.
“Yeah. I think what you did for him was really sweet, Syd.”

Sydney looked down at her glass. “I would do it for you too.”

“I know.”

“Henry is the greatest guy I know. He deserves nothing but the best.”

“What about Coen?” Nancy asked with a laugh. “Isn’t he the greatest guy you’ve ever known?”

“When he isn’t being a cocky asshole
, he is.”

Coen’s voice drifted through the window.
“The window is still open, seahorse.”

“Shut up,” Sydney
shouted.

“Wow. The honeymoon is over,” Nancy said.

Sydney smiled. “He knows I’m joking.”

Coen shouted again. “Sometimes I can’t tell.”

Sydney stood up then shut the window. “There. That should keep them out of our hair.”

Coen opened the door then marched to her, grabbing her face and kissing her hard. “I love you, baby.”

She smiled, melting right before his eyes. “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry if I ruined your ladies night.”

“You didn’t.”

He kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

“And stop eavesdropping on us.”

“I will unless you talk about slutty lingerie.”

“Why would we talk about that?” Sydney asked.

“Isn’t that what girls talk about?” Coen asked.

“No,” Nancy said. “We don’t discuss each other’s underwear.”

“Oh,” Coen said sadly. “You should start.”

Sydney pushed him away. “Go inside, hubby.”

“Okay,
wifey.”

Even though they teased each other, Nancy could see the happiness in Sydney’s face. She looked down at her drink,
a grin forcing her lips wide. Her eyes were brighter when Coen was around, and the joy leaked from her skin. Nancy was happy for her best friend, but she was also envious. She knew she would never find a love like that.

2

After months of working, Nancy finally completed the painting she had been working so hard on. It was abstract art, using a heavy oil base to blend the colors together, but for the first time, she was proud of something she’d done.

When she looked at it, she saw the Hawaiian sunset, the hibiscus flowers,
the distant volcano, everything that made the island beautiful. It was hard to make out, looking like a blur of colors, but she saw everything in the streaks of paint.

The voices inside her head seemed to
disappear when she was brushing the color on the canvas. She didn’t feel so lonely, but felt connected with her spirituality on a level that couldn’t be explained. It made her feel calm and at peace with the world. Some people wrote poems or short stories, but she expressed her emotions and thoughts through her paintbrush. She had never showed anyone before. Nancy thought she was ready.

The front door opened then closed, announcing the arrival of her father. When she looked at the clock, she realized he was home late—again. She left her bedroom and walked into the kitchen. He was removing the tie from his neck, tossing it on the chair. His briefcase was thrown on the counter. Her father was thin, too thin for his own good.

He opened the refrigerator and stared inside, putting his hand in the pocket of his suit while he pondered what to eat.

Nancy approached him. “I saved you some dinner.”

He turned and looked at her. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t see you there.”

She came to him and hugged him.

Quickly, he returned her embrace with a simple pat on the back. “So, what did you make me?”

She opened the door wider and pulled out the plate she saved him. It was
a rib eye steak and a baked potato.

“Thanks,” he said as he put it in the microwave. “I would starve without you.”

She sat at the kitchen table and waited for him to sit down. “How was work?”

“Long as always.
I had to deal with a few contracts and deal with the hotel manager. It’s amazing how stupid people are.”

“People aren’t stupid. Sometimes they just need clarification.”

“No, they are just stupid. I don’t pay him 50K a year to mess everything up.”

“In his defense
, that isn’t much.”

He glared at her then poured himself a glass of wine.

Her father was the owner of one of the biggest resorts on the island. He had more money than he knew what to do with. It irritated her that he was so greedy with his money. The house they lived in stood right on the beach with five bedrooms, a pool, three car garage, and a Lamborghini that was never used.

The microwave beeped when
the food was done. He pulled it out then picked up his wine, heading toward the hallway.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Aren’t you going to eat at the table?”

“I have work to do. I’ll be in the office if you need me.”

He always had work to do. He was gone all day, and when he came home it was like he wasn’t even there. They lived together
, but she felt like she didn’t know him. Nancy knew he had a few girlfriends. He usually took them out to fancy dinners, clubs, and even trips to Europe on the weekends then stayed at his other beach house a few miles away. He felt like a stranger to her.

“Can I s
how you something real quick?”

He sighed, clearly annoyed. “What?”

“Nevermind.”

“Come on, Nancy. Show me.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” She walked into her bedroom then reached her balcony where she did all her painting. She grabbed the board off the easel and walked back into the living room, the excitement coursing through her in waves. She’d never showed anyone before and she was excited for her father to be the first. When she was little, one of her first memories was fingerpainting with him. She thought there was no better person.

She stood in front of him and held the painting, looking into his eyes and waiting for the praise and the pride to wash through her.

He stared at it, sipping his wine. “What is it?”

Her heart fell. “Well, it’s Hawaii. It’s the beach, the palm trees, the flower
s. It’s abstract art…”

“Did you buy this?”

“No…I painted it.”

“Oh,” he said with a nod. “It’s great.” He gave her a fake smile then walked down the hallway, taking his dinner and wine into his o
ffice. She heard the door close before she felt her eyes well up. She blinked them back and swallowed them, refusing to let it bother her. She wasn’t sure why she expected anything else.

She walked back into her room then returned the painting to the easel. She stared at it for a long moment before she took it down then shoved it into her closest
, where she couldn’t see it anymore. Now she felt stupid. She obviously wasn’t any good at art.

When she sat on her bed, she looked at the collage of pictures on her nightstand. A lot of them were her and her father when she was young. He had
the same dark hair and brown eyes as his daughter. His hair had grayed substantially in recent years. Now she didn’t recognize the man in the picture anymore. The man she knew in her past was gone. She had a roommate for a stranger.

BOOK: Taking the Plunge
9.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Land of My Heart by Tracie Peterson
Director's Cut by Arthur Japin
Dead Winter by William G. Tapply
Selby's Shemozzle by Duncan Ball
Alabama Moon by Watt Key
Ride the Moon Down by Terry C. Johnston