Her Hawaiian Homecoming (Mills & Boon Superromance) by Cara Lockwood Page A

used to live. It had a shine of new blue paint trimmed in white, and he’d added a new huge lanai, complete with ceiling fans and a pair of old rocking chairs on the Hawaiian porch deck. Dallas’s cowboy boots sat near the front door. A big black Chevy pickup truck, relatively new by the gleam of the paint, sat under the carport.
    As she passed by his house, she heard a peal of woman’s laughter from the open windows, which made Allie think Dallas had company. Had Dallas gone to a bar after she’d left the party and picked up some tourist? Or, had he just picked up one of the many local admirers in Kaimana’s backyard?
    She found herself struck by the sudden urge to find out. It wasn’t like Allie to spy, but something drew her to Dallas’s house and to the sound of that laughter. She crept quietly up to his porch, furnished by sturdy bamboo chairs, probably bought locally at one of the nearby markets. She ducked down, peering in through one open window. She saw a sitting room, neatly laid out with a simple couch and a small round red rug on the floorboards in the middle.
    She didn’t see anyone moving about inside, so she went to the next window and found herself glancing in a bright kitchen with new appliances and a newly refinished wooden floor. She saw Dallas first, shirtless, back to her, as he poured a cup of steaming coffee. The sight of his defined back muscles made her freeze in place as she watched his shoulders work. He had on jeans, but that was all, as he stood on bare feet on the wooden kitchen floor. Did he not own enough shirts? Allie thought but then, as she saw his trim waist tucked into his jeans, decided it would almost be a crime to make him wear one . He was singing along to a country song, which was loud in the kitchen, his voice low, but perfectly pitched. He’d missed his calling as a country star.
    Allie glanced around and saw a woman standing in the kitchen. She didn’t recognize her from the party. She was pretty despite looking unkempt—her blond hair a tangled mess and dark mascara rings under her eyes. She was distinctly overdressed for five in the morning with her strappy stilettos and some black low-cut halter sundress. The girl was pretty and most certainly a tourist: having bright red sunburn lines, new by the looks of them. As Allie watched, Dallas offered her a mug of coffee and she took it, a grateful look on her face. One of his tourists , Allie thought, suddenly feeling embarrassed for witnessing what was clearly the aftermath of one of his legendary one-night stands.
    Allie found herself getting irrationally mad about the idea, but it wasn’t as if she was in control of her emotions these days. Lately, she felt as if her whole life was dotted with land mines filled with rage. Better that than crying uncontrollably, like you used to do. The first week after the breakup, she’d burst into tears in the cereal aisle just looking at Jason’s favorite brand. She’d take anger over that.
    Allie decided she’d spied enough on Dallas and retreated from the window, but just as she was about to escape, she accidentally kicked one bamboo rocking chair, sending it clanking against the side of the house.
    “What was that?” she heard Dallas ask from inside.
    Panicked, she ducked off the porch, pulse thudding. She headed for the dirt path back through the coffee trees. Her heart beat madly as she tried to calm her breathing. She heard the screen door slap open and the creak of Dallas’s feet walking on his wooden porch. Just keep moving , she thought. And then a sudden urge to scratch her sunburned and peeling back grabbed her. She slowed down to try to rub her own back, the worst of it between her shoulder blades, just out of reach.
    “Allie?” Dallas sounded surprised, and Allie froze and spun around midscratch, thinking she probably looked like a crazy woman doing a little itch dance in Dallas’s backyard.
    “Uh...hey.” She attempted reaching the small of her back. “I was