Boho Beauty (Blue Island, #1): Blue Island, #1

By N.S. Marc

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE - BOOK #1 IN THE BLUE ISLAND DUET

Renee Ocean, a 26-year-old bartender, is living in paradise. Surfing by day and mixing drinks by night, her life at the Blue Island – a luxurious resort hotel in Hawaii – couldn't be more perfect, especially because she gets to share it with the 'Beach Bums', a bohemian commune of peace-and-love hippies.

Just when she thinks she has it all figured out, her life of rainbows and sunsets is shattered into a million pieces by a pair of deadly steel-blue eyes. Sean Evans – a shady businessman with a perpetual smirk and a thousand secrets behind his ice cold gaze – is like a bad, itchy rash: there's no shaking him, he always shows up at the worst possible moment, and when you finally give in, scratching the itch feels so amazingly damn good.

The worst thing about Sean, though, is that he makes Renee feel safe. Bit by bit he breaks down her defenses, making the world seem a little less scary, and a little more filled with hope.

Which is exactly what makes him so dangerous.

 

+18 MATURE CONTENT. Reader discretion advised. This is part #1 in Renee's story: the second and final part is book #2, 'Steel Island' in the Blue Island series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: N.S. Marc
• Release date: Aug 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393838241

Book preview

N. S. Marc

Copyright © 2020 N.S. Marc

All rights reserved.

Cover Designer—Natasha Robertson

Ig: @natasharobertsonart

CHAPTER 1

A re you even listening to me? Two judgmental eyebrows shot up above Koko’s giant sunglasses.

Renee swallowed guiltily. After four years of secretly crushing on their manager, Koko had finally mustered the courage to tell him how she felt, only to be shut down with the all-time dreaded I only see you as a friend line. It was the biggest thing to happen to either of them in a very long time, and yet Renee couldn’t seem to focus; something was driving her crazy. Glancing around, she surveyed the Blue Island Hotel’s private beach: the sunbathing guests, the surfers in the ocean, the blazing sun in the Hawaiian sky—but couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. That thing with Kai was unbelievable and I want to analyze every last detail until we’re blue in the face. But it’s like there’s a mosquito buzzing in my ear. Renee placed a hand over her heart and took in a deep breath. Maybe my chakras are messed up.

Koko snorted. It’s not your chakras, baby, it’s all these people staring at you. I should know better than to try and have a heart-to-heart with a bikini model at the beach.

Renee waved her hand dismissively. "Part-time bikini model. I’m a Mixer bartender, first and foremost. And if people are staring at anyone, it’s you, Miss Pilates Goddess. We tall chicks might look good in pictures, but in real life it’s the pocket-sized beauties like yourself who get all the attention."

Koko rolled her eyes. "That’s the biggest load of bullshit anyone has ever said. You’re not just tall, and you don’t just have the perfect bikini body; you’re naturally blond, your eyes are fucking turquoise, and your face makes angels contemplate plastic surgery. However, Koko added, smiling sweetly, since last night was such a colossal fuck-up and my ego can really use a boost, for once I’ll agree with you. My oriental allure is totally overshadowing your supermodel ass today."

’Atta girl. Renee patted Koko’s shoulder. So here’s the plan: I’ll jump in the sea to wash away this weird joojoo, then we go back to your hut, make sandwiches and slam Kai nonstop until I need to get ready for my shift.

After getting the green-light from Koko, Renee traipsed over to the shoreline, the gentle waves lapping at her toes. She concentrated on her breathing, letting the healing spirit of the sun, the sea and the wind purify her from the inside out. With her fingers pressed against a dark-green tourmaline crystal ring, she inhaled deeply and repeated her daily affirmations: ’I am safe. I am strong. I am grateful’.

The nervous energy from before slammed into her, and she turned around as if someone had shouted her name.

Black aviator sunglasses. It was hard to tell, because the owner of the sunglasses was sitting in the hotel’s beach restaurant a good distance away, and yet Renee knew with absolute certainty that he was staring at her.

She could feel it down to her bones.

She’d never seen him before, of that she was sure. He and the man sitting next to him were both wearing expensive suits, which didn’t impress Renee in the least. Rich businessmen were not her type.

So why was she out of breath?

And why was he staring back at her like that?

Then things got really strange. Instead of shaking it off and plunging into the water, Renee stood rooted in place as the oddest string of sexual fantasies began running through her mind, as if she were suddenly transported into an erotic dream. One moment she was slowly inching towards him, their eyes connected as she undid her bikini top; next she was perched on the wooden beach bar, digging into his shoulders as he—

We need to leave. Now, she said to Koko while gathering their things. On their hurried walk back home, she kept wondering whether she’d actually seen a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth, or if that too was just part of her much-too-wild imagination.

CHAPTER 2

As much as she loved spending time with Koko, Renee couldn’t wait for her shift at the Mixer to begin. The bizarre encounter at the beach had been so unsettling that she needed something to ground her back in reality, and standing behind the Mixer’s gigantic bar in a skin-tight yellow minidress seemed like the perfect remedy. With six years of bartending experience under her belt, she was the Mixer’s MVP.

That specific night, however, was her first week at the Mixer all over again. She kept confusing orders and spilling drinks, causing Kai to come over and inquire—very gently—if everything was okay.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Kai bit his lip, looking adorable with his spiky black hair and irresistible dimples. Though Renee could easily see why Koko and so many others were infatuated with the Hawaiian-native, something about his boyish charm always kept him securely in the friendzone for her. She liked guys who had some kind of edge to them. The man at the beach, for example, he was just dripping with. . .

Renee forced an apologetic smile. Sorry, Boss Man. I’m off my game tonight.

No problem. Take a break if you need it.

As soon as he walked away she poured herself a shot of vodka to soothe her injured ego. She closed her eyes for a full minute, blocking out the blasting music, the smell of sweat and beer, and the intoxicated people, letting it all fade to the background until all that was left was the sound of her breath going in, and out. In, and out.

When she opened her eyes she saw him. Dressed in a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, he stood alone in the back, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, staring at her. The first thing that struck her was that he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. Somehow, despite the dimness of the dance-club, she could nevertheless tell that his eyes were a piercing, steel-blue color. The second thing she noticed was that once again, just like that morning at the beach, her body was reacting to his presence on a chemical level: speeding pulse, sweat beading across her brow, a slight tremble running down the length of her spine. . .

It felt like fear, but not quite.

Before she could decide what to do next, he set down his glass and left without so much as a glance in her direction. Every instinct in her body told her to follow him.

Seven Blue Hawaiians, A customer said, waving a credit card at Renee. No, make that eight.

With a forced smile, Renee begrudgingly whipped out rum, blue Curacao liquor, pineapple juice, and cream of coconut. While mixing the drinks she kept an eye on the door just in case Steel Eyes planned to make a reappearance. Once she was done, she yelled out that she was taking five and practically burst out the door, a burning urgency guiding her movements.

He was there, standing by the ocean, smoke from his cigar wafting up into the night air. Once she got closer the cigar’s sweet scent hit her nose and made her head spin.

What the hell am I doing?

He turned around and the tightness in her ribcage only worsened. Seeing him up close confirmed all the things she’d presupposed about him—a large, looming, and impeccably maintained body; an intense masculine face with strong, prominent features; and most importantly, eyes that were a vortex of bright, luminescent blue.

Quite the opposite of how she felt, Steel Eyes seemed very relaxed, his mouth even twisting into a slightly amused smile.

I paid my bill, he said in a quiet, deep voice.

What. . . ? she asked, her own voice coming out in a squeak.

His smile broadened just a fraction. My drink. I paid for it. She kept staring at him, so he clarified. If that’s why you’ve followed me outside.

Oh. It’s not.

He didn’t say anything, and she realized a little too late that he was waiting for an explanation. Renee shook her head—the last time she’d felt insecure around a man was back when she was sixteen, and still a shy, gangly wallflower.

I saw you at the beach earlier, she finally said. You were looking at me.

He smirked. I could say the same.

She started to blush—actually blush!

Do you really believe in all that? he asked, gesturing at her. Your. . . talismans, I think is the term.

She clutched the evil-eye pendant hanging from a chain around her neck, one of many pieces of jewelry she wore. None of them were expensive, though they were precious in other ways.

I think if we assign meaning to something, that can have power. I like having reminders that life is more than just what we perceive with our senses.

She expected him to ridicule her, but he seemed to be considering her words.

What about you? she asked. He raised an eyebrow, so she pointed at his twenty-thousand dollar watch. Do you think money is the cure-all? You can’t take it with you when you’re dead, you know.

He laughed. You’re making a lot of assumptions.

She used his own words against him. I could say the same.

He puffed on his cigar thoughtfully. Yes. But I’m usually right.

They stood for a long moment without speaking. She should have said goodnight and gone back inside, but something was stopping her. This man. . . there was something about him. She couldn’t put her finger on it, exactly.

I finish my shift in an hour, if you want to get a drink after.

He squinted his eyes before smoothing his expression. Thank you, but I should go. It’s been a pleasure.

With a dropped jaw, Renee watched him disappear out of sight.

SHE DIDN’T SLEEP A wink that night. Part of it was that she was frustratingly horny, and no battery-operated appliance would do. But her bigger problem was the incredible rage burning inside of her. The short encounter with Steel Eyes—she still didn’t know his name!—had been one of the most humiliating experiences of her life.

Who the hell does he think he is? She fumed, tossing between the hot sheets one last time before giving up and walking out to her little porch, though for once the salty air and the view of the moon reflected against the ocean did little to calm her emotions.

No man had ever rejected her before; it was an entirely new concept. In fact, being sexually desirable was her only constant in an otherwise chaotic world. Hadn’t she put herself out there? Even after several replays of their conversation in her mind she was sure that she had been crystal clear about her intentions. And he said. . .  no thank you!

Renee plopped into her hammock, wishing it wasn’t too late to ask one of her neighbors for some weed; she’d run out at the worst possible time. Swinging gently from side to side, she stared at the stars and frowned at the unpleasant sting of rejection. For the first time in her life, she actually felt sorry for all the guys she’d said no to over the years. That shit hurt.

At some point dawn began to break and Renee climbed out of the hammock, finally accepting that sleep was simply not in the cards. After some yoga and meditation followed by an hour of surfing, she sat down in the sand next to her beloved surfboard, letting the sun dry her skin.

For no good reason, a shiver ran through her body. Something’s wrong, she realized with alarm. She didn’t know why, but it almost felt like the universe’s alignment had shifted, and her stomach clenched at the thought that from this point on, things were never going to be the same.

It was the last thing she wanted. If it were up to her, her whole life would stay just like this, up to her very last day. No surprises, no plot twists. Smooth and predictable, like the flow of the river.

A spray of water snapped her out of her thoughts; she had company—Boggs, the communal Golden Retriever, who was shaking off his morning swim, and Caleb Shaw, one of the Blue Island’s surfing instructors.

Mornin’, Ren. Caleb plunked down beside her and reached back to unzip his wetsuit, peeling it down to his waist.

Renee gave herself a moment to distract herself with Caleb’s upper-body before he turned to give her his famous dazzling smile, bright teeth shining against a deep tan, and warm brown eyes twinkling energetically. Drenched in saltwater and sweat, his longish dark hair stuck to his face and neck, giving her a full display of that irresistible Caleb-look that made all the girls swoon.

What are you thinking about so seriously this early in the morning?

I wasn’t. . . she stammered, giggling as Boggs started to lick her feet. Nothing, I wasn’t thinking about anything.

Didn’t look that way from where I was standing. He slid a finger beneath Boggs’ collar and pulled him over. You had an actual frown on your face.

She shook her head and smiled a bit too widely. Nah, I’m just tired is all.

He didn’t say anything for a few long moments, dutifully scratching behind Boggs’ ears as the dog closed its eyes in pleasure. Then he looked over at Renee and asked, How come you’re tired? Wild night?

Actually, the exact opposite. I got rejected last night.

Caleb stopped scratching the dog and threw his head back, roaring with laughter. After a reproachful sneeze, Boggs got up and meandered away.

Renee swatted Caleb’s shoulder. It’s not funny!

He struggled to school his expression. You’re right. It’s actually very, very serious. You just hit twenty-six, right? Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but it’s all over for you. Men will start rejecting you, women will start liking you. . .  Hell, soon you’ll have to start buying your own drinks.

Women like me! she protested.

Oh yeah? What about Lena?

Right. Lena. Wish I could forget about her.

So who was this extremely homosexual man?

Renee laughed. Just some guy. Hotel guest, probably, I don’t know. Pretty sure he isn’t gay, I can tell you that much.

He pondered it for a long moment. Tell you what, how about I make you breakfast?

You still have those chia seeds from last week?

He made a face. Of course. It’s not like I’d ever touch that stuff.

THEY SAT ON HIS PORCH with their feet dangling high above the beach. As Renee poked at a bowl of chia seeds, soy yoghurt and pomegranate, Caleb zealously devoured his toaster-waffle bacon and egg sandwich. He had the perfect surfer physique—lean and long, with elegant muscles that rippled along his body like the waves he mastered with his surfboard—but his culinary preferences were akin to those of a fifth grader. While he scarfed down his breakfast, every now and then wiping maple syrup from his face, Renee took the time to study him, disturbed that her brain was comparing him to Steel Eyes.

Do you ever regret moving to Hawaii? The question flew out of her mouth.

Caleb stopped chewing for a moment and scrunched up his forehead. Despite being close friends, Renee always drew a clear line when it came to dredging up the past. They spent nearly every morning together, welcoming the new day side by side on the beach, and yet he knew nearly nothing about her life before moving to Hawaii.

I just mean. . . she fumbled for the right words, are you happy. . .  being a surfing instructor? Living here at the Blue Island?

He swallowed the last bite. How can I not be happy? I work doing what I love. I’m surrounded by people I love. And this is the best place on earth. He gestured at the gleaming ocean before them, like an attorney presenting the jury with his slam-dunk piece of evidence.

What about competing? Do you regret that?

He smiled. You’re in an introspective mood. I like it. She nudged him, so he continued. Okay, okay. . .  So no, I don’t regret giving up the competitions. Bottom line, I just didn’t like it. A lot of people think I quit because of the pressure, but I didn’t feel it back then; I was too young and arrogant. My problem was the fake relationships. People were being nice to me for all the wrong reasons. He paused for a moment, staring out at the waves. Above all else, I didn’t want surfing to be a competition. I respect athletes, but for me, personally, surfing can’t be about beating someone else or about titles and endorsements. If my tiny contribution to humanity is teaching other people how to connect with the waves, then I’m good with that.

That’s a good answer. Renee smiled and took a big bite from her breakfast.

"Do you regret moving here?"

Not for a single day the entire time I’ve lived here. It’s just suddenly. . . She pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. I’m feeling. . .  restless. I can’t explain it. It’s like I’ve been smooth sailing for six years, and now there’s this huge storm brewing on the horizon. I can feel it coming towards me, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

He grinned. One incredibly stupid guy said no to you, Renee. That doesn’t mean you need to run and pack a suitcase. It’s just karma biting you in the ass for the trail of broken hearts you leave everywhere you go. 

Not wanting to think about Steel Eyes anymore, she grabbed his arm and stood up.

No more talking, Caleb, she ordered as she marched them into his little hut, flinging off her tank top and sinking into his couch. Without missing a beat, Caleb got rid of his t-shirt and landed on top of her. She ran her fingers down his body greedily, feeling every spectacular muscle awaken beneath her touch. He kissed her down her neck and she arched her back, anticipating the release she so sorely needed after the tormented night she’d had thanks to you-know-who: if anyone could help her out, it was Caleb. Her regular hookups were mostly one-night stands, and while they could be fun and exciting, the sex itself was usually mediocre at best. But ever since she’d started adding benefits to her friendship with Caleb, she discovered that sex could be so... amazingly. . .  good. . .

Renee? He stared down at her, the tenderness in his voice making her snap to attention.

Yeah? Her leg was already unhooking itself from around his hips.

Look, I know you don’t want to hear this. . . his voice was a weird mixture of nerves and determination, his skin suddenly scalding hot against her own.

Then don’t say it, she whispered in a flat voice.

He blinked a few times, swallowed hard and then finally sat