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“I can’t even imagine what it’s like. Are you in a tribe? Are you supposed to marry a certain person?”
I stare at him and wonder if I want to get into this with him. He sits, arms resting on his knees, with a quizzical expression.
“Stand up.” He follows my command without question. “There are three tribes.” I point at each of them surrounding the island. Then I point to what looks like an uninhabited part of the island. Except it isn’t. “See that house?” He cranes his neck toward the heavily treed peninsula on the south part of the island where two houses sit. “That is where me and my dad live.” I like having our places tucked away. It’s peaceful. “We moved here when I was one. My dad was referred to as Popa’a, a mainlander. The locals didn’t welcome him. But he didn’t care. He craved a simple lifestyle. Becoming a fisherman and raising me was most important to him. Eventually, they tolerated him because of his small fishing business.”
“You said your father was American, right?”
“Yes. My mom was French but was in America on a work visa when she met my dad. They married and lived there for years before they had me. And then we moved here.” I turn my focus to the water, surprised at the words falling from my mouth. No foreigner has ever asked about my story before and I never offered it. Why is he so interested? Afraid of him asking about my mom, I add, “And to answer your question, no arranged marriages.”
Before he can ask another question, I start the descent down the trail. “Guess we’re done,” he murmurs, following close behind.
Yes, we are.
Back in the Jeep, on the way to our next stop, I say, “Your turn.”
“My turn what?”
“Who is Ryker Dallas?? Why are you here by yourself?”
He looks forward, and his eyes jump around the Jeep. He fiddles with the blower vents. It’s odd since most guys have no problem talking about themselves. “I’m a player at heart. I’m laid back, carefree, and I don’t like drama.” He chuckles to himself. “My friends make up for what I lack. Shit, they could have at least four seasons of a drama-filled TV show.”
“Sounds like interesting friends.” I shift down a gear as we slow down, coming to a stop for people crossing the road up ahead.
“They are. They’re all in law enforcement and here I am—” he cuts off in the middle of his sentence. I glance over and his expression becomes distant for a moment before he reins it back in. “I chose a different occupation.” Why is he being secretive? I let him slide since I’ve yet to even tell him my name.
“Okay. Not in law enforcement. How old are you?”
“Thirty.”
“We’ve already established you’re not married… well, if you’re telling me the truth. Girlfriend?”
“No wife. No girlfriend.”
I find him watching me when I peer over. I lift a brow, having a hard time believing him. “Why?”
“Remember how I said I don’t like drama? I had a girlfriend. But because of my job, she was hesitant to take our relationship to the next level. She was hiding something and wouldn’t tell me. She called it quits. In my line of work, it was for the better. It puts my job at risk and it’s not worth it.”
Now I really want to know what he does.
“She must not have been the one or she would’ve been.”
His brows furrow. “Been what?”
“Worth it.”
He straightens and sighs loudly. “Maybe. But it goes both ways. If I’m not worth sharing your secrets with, you’re not for me either.”
I pull into a parking spot and turn the engine off. Twisting my body in the seat, I grip the keys in my palm. “Trust is a big thing for me too. Why do guys lie to get what they want?”
“Men are assholes.” I wait for him to tell me something new. “But you can’t live without us.” There’s a maddening arrogance with him, yet I find it attractive. He hunches over and glances out the dirty window. “Where are we?”
“Bloody Mary’s. It’s the place to be in Bora Bora. And I figured you might be hungry after that hike.”
“Starving.”
“Famous people come here all the time. See those signs?” I point at the enormous signs filled with rows of famous people’s names. He walks over to one of them and looks it over.
“Cool,” he says, not impressed. “Ready to go in? My stomach is going to start eating itself.”
