Honor Bound by Joey Hill (speld decodable readers .txt) 📕

into Ella while I’m there, I can make sure she’s okay.”

“Ella does a fine job taking care of herself.”

“I know she does. But just in case . . .”

Tish’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

So did he. He didn’t do impulsive things like this. Ever. And he’d been hands off Ella . . .

always. But after James’s sudden death, and the way it had taken its toll on her, he’d stepped in as James’s best friend and found himself . . . looking after her. In an unofficial capacity, of course. Strictly business related. He didn’t go to her house. He didn’t see to her personal welfare. He never saw her at all other than at business functions. On the job.

Nothing personal between them at all. Ella had family and friends for that. She had them to lean on during the bad times. He’d just been there to help her out with the business.

This wasn’t business.

So why the hell was he going to Hawaii?

Two

The condo was amazing. The oceanfront room was open and airy with white tile floors, pale bamboo and wicker furniture with glass tabletops. And the view took her breath away. Miniature palms waved to her in greeting as she stepped out on the balcony and got her first clear look at the ocean.

Wow. Just . . . wow. She took a deep breath and inhaled the tangy ocean air.

She’d been in Hawaii for all of an hour and she was already madly in love with the place.

How did people ever leave? She wanted to plop down on the chaise, put her feet up, stare at the never-ending miles of clear blue water and just do . . . nothing. Quite possibly for the rest of her life. Okay, maybe she’d add a piña colada. Other than that, she couldn’t think of one other thing she’d need to be happy.

Sex.

Oh, right. That was why she was here, wasn’t it? Though she could get used to a life without sex if she could live in a place this nice. It was so peaceful watching the waves as they raced to the shore, listening to the sounds of people below, and yet she remained detached from it all, an observer.

And that was her problem, had been her problem for too long now. She’d been detached, observing. Not participating. Which meant no more sitting around watching the world go by. It was time to join the party.

She grabbed the suitcase she’d dropped at the front door and headed to the bedroom, her jaw dropping.

Clay had been very good to Tish when he’d given her this condo. The bedroom was lush, with a king-sized bed and a lazily twirling ceiling fan overhead. There was no

television—really, who needs TV in paradise? The double doors gave way to another stunning view of the beach and the ocean.

The bathroom had a double vanity, a shower built for two and a Jacuzzi tub. It was huge and every woman’s dream. Ella could use one of those at home after a muscle-bruising day. There was even a small kitchen in case she wanted to cook instead of eat out every night.

She’d be content to never leave her room. Except she had to get out. It was unlikely some hot stud had heard about her arrival and was about to knock on her door to offer up his services.

She laughed at that, tossed her suitcase on the bed and opened it up, still awed by all the color she saw in there.

Tish had pushed her into going shopping. Okay, Tish had grabbed her and taken her shopping. So she owned only ragged cutoff shorts, or the ones she wore during her occasional trips to the gym. And she couldn’t remember how long it had been since she’d last put on a swimsuit. Plus, she’d lost a lot of weight and most of her clothes didn’t fit anymore.

But what reason did she have to go shopping? She wore jeans and work shirts all the time.

Which meant her wardrobe was in serious need of some updating. And she had to admit she’d enjoyed the hell out of picking out new clothes. She went hog wild, too, buying some things for Hawaii she knew she’d never, ever wear again.

But what the hell. She of all people knew life was short—sometimes too short—and she wanted to have the fling of a lifetime in Hawaii. What better way to start than by purchasing scandalous clothes?

She unpacked, then put on her swimsuit, surprised at what she saw in the mirror. She’d lost a lot of weight and gained a ton of muscle. Running from one jobsite to another kept her fit. Grief and focusing more on work than on eating had taken away those extra twenty pounds she’d always hated. For thirty years old, she looked pretty damn good.

Maybe she could pick up a hot lifeguard or surfer, someone young and sexy—with

stamina. She’d definitely want someone with stamina. She needed lots and lots of sex.

Even a little sex would be good. Any sex at all. She wasn’t going home without it. She hoped she wouldn’t have to assault some poor guy to get it.

Yeah, right. As if she was that forward. She’d had one—exactly one—sexual partner in her lifetime, and that had been James. She’d been seventeen when she’d met him,

eighteen when she’d married him.

And a widow at twenty-five.

She shook off the shroud of melancholy that threatened to put a damper on this

beautifully sunny day. Which was exactly where she belonged—out in the sun. It was time to shake off Oklahoma’s winter and dig her toes in the sand.

She went downstairs to the pool, tossed her things under the chair and spread out her towel, lathered up with some sunscreen, giddy with excitement when a cocktail waitress came by to take her order. It was one in the afternoon. And she’d just ordered a Bloody Mary. Normally her day wouldn’t be even half over yet.

So far, this