by Tara Lain
“Good.” He forced a smile. “Same difference, right?” He gave her a little poke in the ribs.
“She didn’t seem exactly ecstatic. She asked where I lived. She’s, I don’t know, kind of intense.”
Shit. He handed her two of the plates to put on the table. “She won’t come. They never do.”
“Let’s hope.” She sighed.
“Hey, it’s Christmas break so for sure she won’t visit. Let’s have fun.”
She looked up, and the ancient eyes in the pretty twelve-year-old face gazed at him steadily. “Okay.”
Aliki bounded in and tossed his homework on the table, barely missing the butter. “All done.”
“Good. Now doesn’t that feel better? Nothing hanging over your head.” Crap, that almost made him laugh. Those poor kids had never had a minute with nothing hanging over their heads. Only a part-time babysitter they pretended was their aunt and a sort of half brother standing between them and foster care.
They ate, and then Aliki ran outside for some playtime during the last hours of sunshine. Lani helped Kai wash dishes. She carefully replaced their plates in the cupboard. “You going out?”
“I thought maybe for a little swim, if it’s okay. I won’t be late.”
“No problem. You need some time for fun too.” She smiled, and it made her dark eyes shine. “He really is pretty good when it’s just the two of us.”
Kai grinned. “He saves his evil nature for me, huh?”
“Something like that.” Dimples flashed in her slim cheeks.
He touched her arm. “You both make me proud all the time, you know that, right?”
Her smile was tinged with sadness.
“So, when can we see some of your artwork, Julie?” Rand’s mom dug into her pad thai with lots of enthusiasm. Rand moved the fried rice around on his plate. It tasted pretty good. Just didn’t feel much like eating.
“I show in several galleries in Lahaina, if you plan to visit there before you go.” Julie munched her own pad thai and managed to be every inch the woman his mother would choose for him. Maybe this whole act added up to one crappy idea. He’d only get more pressure to settle down. Kai’s dark eyes flashed in his mind. Like Julie said, mysterious.
His mom sat back in her chair. “Sadly, no. We’ll go straight from Hana to the airport this trip. Do you have anything locally?”
“Only at my studio. I’ve tried to get into the Hana Maui forever, but it’s hard to be their swim coach and be taken seriously as an artist. On top of that, I’m not Hawaiian, and they try to honor the local culture, which I totally get.”
His mom grinned. “Maybe we can put in a good word for you?”
“All good words gratefully received.” She laughed.
“Have you seen Julie’s paintings, Rand?”
He snapped out of soul-searching. “Uh, no.”
“Well, for goodness sake, get on it.” Why did he feel she meant more than just painting?
Suddenly everything felt tight and uncomfortable. He’d changed into the clothes his mom bought him, and even though they draped and flapped around his body, they suffocated him. What kind of asshole do I have to be to lie to my folks and use Julie as part of the lie? Damn.
He pushed back his chair with a scraping sound before he even realized he’d done it. His mom looked startled, and his dad stopped checking his phone. “Sorry. Men’s room.”
He hopped up and walked. Didn’t really care where. When he saw a waiter—the little place only had two—he asked about the restrooms, and the guy pointed toward the back of the small building. Rand powered through the few tables, sped into the men’s room, slipped into a stall, and sat on the lid. Classic. Hiding out in the boy’s room. He should pull out a smoke—except he hated cigarettes. How many times had he hidden from girls in the bathrooms of various institutions of learning? Of course, in high school, he’d hidden from the boys too. Anything to catch a break from his incessant alpha male image.
Win for the team, Rand!
Can I wear your letter sweater, baby?
Yo bro, wanna play some video games, man?
He dropped his head in his hands. Which brings us to today. Rand McIntyre. Ranch owner. Leader of men. And above all—cowboy. Bullshit. Pretending I’m interested in Julie is just one more nail in that coffin, asshole.
What in the hell am I going to do?
He sighed and dragged himself off the pot—some would question that—peed, washed his hands, and left the claustrophobic restroom that felt more accommodating than the world outside it. Julie leaned against the wall. He managed half a smile. “Sorry. Did you think I fell in?”
She pushed to standing. “Your folks did. They went back to the hotel and suggested I wait for you. I wasn’t sure if maybe you’d left.”
“Sorry.”
“Hey, your folks are great, but I totally get family crap. That’s why I live here and my parents are in Minnesota. I mean, aside from a few issues of temperature.”
“Thanks.” They walked out a side door of the restaurant into the early evening. “They ditched me. Can I hitch a ride? Or I can call the hotel.”
“Of course I’ll drive you.”
They ambled toward the dirt lot in front by the highway.
When they stood beside her Toyota, she cocked her head. “I don’t imagine you’d want to come over to my place, right?”
His heart gave a hard thud against his rib cage. He forced a smile. “Why do you say that?”
She shrugged. “Too conflicted. I think you’re coming face-to-face with whatever your life struggles are. Hana does that to a person.”
“Maybe Hana. Maybe just the first time I’ve slowed down enough to think in years.”
“Sounds like the human condition.” She looked up at him. “Want to share?”
He shook his head.
“Man of few words.”
“It can’t have escaped your notice that I can be a talker.” He smiled.
“When you want to.” She opened the car door. “And to whom.”
There was that heart thump again.
He walked around the car and slid into the passenger seat.
She glanced over as she backed out. “Kai’s not the only one around here who’s mysterious.”
He caught his breath but managed to smile.
The drive back to the hotel felt eternal—and not in a good way. She stopped back from the entrance and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “May your struggles be successful.”
“Thanks, Julie. You’re a nice person.”
“Back at you.” She gazed at him, shook her head with kind of a sad smile, and he took that cue to slide out of the car.
“See you soon.” He slammed the passenger door.
She nodded through the open window. “Most likely.” And she drove away.
Man, my stomach hurts. He walked to his cottage through the trees, stepping lightly so his parents wouldn’t hear him. Yes, that was embarrassing. No, it wasn’t fucking successful.
He made it to the center of the cottage’s living room before the rap on the door came. He turned. “Hi, Mom.” Did he sound as weary as he felt?
She frowned—scary mom face. “Did Julie find you? Whatever happened to you? That was very rude, Rand.”
“Yes, she found me.” Please notice I only answered the easy question.
“Then why are you here?”
He stalked to the comfortable couch and perched on the edge of it. Also notice I didn’t ask my mother to sit down. “Because she dropped me off and drove home.”
“Well, for God’s sake, the least you could have done was go with her to be sure she got home safely.”
He exploded in a laugh. “Mother, she lives here. If anyone’s going to get sucked into some sinkhole or attacked by ravening parrots, it’s me.”
She crossed her arms—scary mom posture.
He sighed. “Look, let’s just speak the truth here. I introduced you to Julie because she’s a nice woman, and she meets your crit
eria for the type of female I should be hanging out with. I like her. That’s it. I have no designs on her. That’s why I didn’t go home with her. I have no intention of sleeping with her, marrying her, or taking her back with me to California, even if she’d go, so please just get the hell off my back!”
Her eyes widened, and she burst into tears. Loving-mom-break-your-heart tears.
He stood, walked over to her, and slipped an arm around her shoulder. “Mom, I love you, but I can’t live my life for you. I’ve got to know I’m okay with you the way I am.” Of course, she had no idea what that kind of commitment meant.
“Randall, of course you’re okay with me. I love you. I’m your mother, for God’s sake. But what I see is a young man who’s convinced himself to be satisfied with okay. You’re stuck in a rut and not really happy being in it. You need some shaking up and someone to push you out of your ‘good enough’ ways, and I think a wife would do that for you. Plus, you love kids and you’re great with them. It’s a waste, you not being a father.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Sweet Jesus. Can’t breathe. How could a woman who he humored most of the time be so fucking right on the money? He swallowed, and his voice came out soft and breathy. “I’m happy.”
She looked at him fiercely. “Jesus, Rand, you can’t even convince yourself.” She stalked out of the cottage and disappeared into the night.
Chapter Seven
Rand flopped onto the edge of the bed. As life summaries went, that one was spot on. He’d worked his ass off to finish college, buy his ranch, invest in a few Arabians for breeding, and get his business going. He hadn’t raised his head all those years. Then when he did—everything looked perfect, if you didn’t count the hole in his heart.
Shit, that wins the fucking prize for melodrama.
He ripped off his slacks, slipped on his shorts and flip-flops, grabbed the flashlight that the management kept near all the cottage doors, and hauled ass outside. No way he’d walk past his parents’ cottage. He turned left into the trees and skirted his way down toward the ocean. Water. Just get to it.
The steep path to the beach slipped and slid under his floppy shoes. A couple of times, one of his big feet edged over the side, and it made him catch his breath. A lot of brush and rocks between the path and the sand—not that the path wasn’t sandy. Like with flying, death might be okay, but falling would be crappy. He shuddered. Finally he hit flat sand, and he shone the light around his feet to make sure it was actually beach. Maybe I’ll sleep here. Don’t want to climb back up.
Shining the light in front of him, he staggered across the sand. After about six steps, he swore and kicked the flip-flops into the air. Then the walking got steadier, even if he had no fucking idea where the shoes went. Short-term thinking if he planned to walk back.
He stopped and tried to hear over the rushing of the surf out beyond the reef if anyone else hid in the dark. No sounds. Fortunately, no big water hit this beach, so he didn’t have to worry about getting swamped. Actually, between the lapping waves and the brilliant moonlight, the scene resembled some fairy-tale romance. Fuck that.
Right where the dry sand verged on the wet, he flopped on his butt. What she’d said—that he settled for a good-enough life. That he wasn’t happy. Don’t I get to decide that?
He leaned back on his elbows. Yeah, but she’s right. I created a whole life—as if I was somebody else. Most people find “the one” and build a future so it suits them both. I imagined a cowboy and slid into his boots—Rand McIntyre. Say that with a drawl, son. Just one problem. I’m gay—always have been—and cowboys don’t come out. Where does that leave me? A-fucking-lone, pardner. Always will be.
You’re not the only gay cowboy.
Have you seen Brokeback Mountain? Shit.
Phosphorescence sparkled on the tops of the waves farther out. Pretty. Guess there could be all kinds of weird man-eating shit in that water.
Do you think more sharks and barracudas swim at night than during the day?
Yeah, right.
He sprang up, stripped his Hawaiian shirt off and tossed it on the sand, then pulled off the shorts his mom had given him. Commando. What would it feel like to have fishes nibbling at his balls? Not like anybody else was doing any nibbling. He strode into the water. Whoa! Not cold, just startling.
When he waded out past his thighs, his penis and balls started to float. He chuckled. Kind of like being a kid in the bathtub. Endless hours of fun playing with your own built-in toys. A few more steps, and he submerged to his shoulders. He gave a tiny shiver. Weird being sunk in inky blackness. Still, the water felt good. He kicked off and swam a few yards out, turned, and stroked back toward shore. He wasn’t a good enough swimmer to push his luck alone at night.
After treading water a couple of minutes, he pulled himself back into the shallows and sat on the hard wet beach. He glanced down. Some shrinkage, but his balls still lay on the sand. Remember to rinse them off or you’ll itch. Slowly he released his breath. What was he going to do? Answer? Same as always. Nothing. He couldn’t risk all the great shit he’d made to try to make it better.
What? A splash brought his head up. He strained his eyes toward the water. Probably just a fish. Maybe a dolphin, checking him out. He felt around for the flashlight, picked it up, and clicked it. Against the vastness of the water, even in this little cove, his narrow beam of light didn’t add up to much. He bobbed it around for a minute.
Splash.
“Hello?” Right, McIntyre, talk to the fish. But he still stood and backed up a few feet from the water, swinging the flashlight.
Wait. Is that a person? He tried to focus the beam while a tendril of fight-or-flight crept up his spine. Maybe just a seal.
Kai treaded water and stared at the beach, holding a hand in front of his eyes to block the damned light. He hadn’t exactly expected anyone to be there. Still, people swam at this beach at all hours, and whoever was on the beach stood between him and his clothes. He kept a pair of shorts hidden in a tree trunk so he could swim nude from a cove down the coast and arrive here at the one place nobody’d be surprised he was naked. But he needed the shorts to get back to his truck.
Okay, what the hell. He began to stroke toward shore.
A few more yards in, he raised his head, but the bright light kept shining, swinging back and forth, and he couldn’t even make out a silhouette behind it. His feet hit sand and he stood, lifting his shoulders and chest above the water, then trudged forward, step by step. The light flashed onto the other side of the cove. Could it be the cops? They pretty much left the nude beach alone. Besides, he knew all of them.
When he got to the dry sand, he sluiced some water from his legs and started toward the tree where he hid the shorts. Suddenly, his body lit up like he was onstage. Onstage nude. He threw his hands up toward his eyes. “Hey, quit it.”
The beam of light bobbled, then dropped to the sand in front of him. “Sorry.”
Ooooh hell. He’d know that voice anywhere. “Hey, Rand, what’re you doing here?” He cocked his head and smiled, though maybe Rand couldn’t see it.
“Uh, was swimming.”
“Not a lot of people like to swim at night. Too scary. I love it.”
The disembodied voice said, “Yeah. I liked it.” He chuckled. “Kind of scary.”
The light moved closer until the puddle of illumination lit up most of Kai. Rand stepped into the light.
Holy mother of shit. No clothes. Kai swallowed hard and tried to drag his melting eyeballs toward Rand’s chest. Sweet crap, hung and ripped, and—wow. Hung. Up, baby. Look up. He managed to get his gaze all the way to Rand’s eyes—but those maka stared so wide they consumed his face. Target of the staring—Kai’s cock. No doubt about it. Rand McIntyre focused on Kai’s penis like he’d never seen one before. He blinked—once, twice—then looked up, saw Kai staring at him, and despite the odd light, it appeared his face turned some different color than normal. “Uh, sorry. Took me by surprise.”
<
br /> “Nude beach.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” He stepped out of the light, but too late, baby. Right there, blinding Kai for every other sight, Rand’s cock began to rise.
Kai stepped closer and Rand flailed back, but no amount of movement discouraged the display of Old Glory. Higher and higher.
Kai’s breath came faster. He reached out and grabbed the wavering flashlight from Rand’s hand and, before Rand could react, shone it directly on that glorious dick. He just wanted to gaze at it—because no matter how anyone might rationalize it, that hard-on was his. Rand McIntyre, badass cowboy, just got an erection for Kai Kealoha.
Panting, he flipped the light and focused it directly on his own penis—that would be the hard-as-stone erection sticking out the front of his body and tapping against his belly button.
A small whimper sounded from the shadowed space in front of him.
Kai redirected the light at Rand’s cock, then back to his own. His breathing was clearly audible, even above the sounds of the water.
He took a step forward, shining one way and then the other, back and forth. Rand didn’t move and Kai got closer—
Voices came from the direction of the path. “Hey baby, be careful. Don’t fall. The water’s this way.”
Shit! He flipped off the flashlight. Head spinning, he staggered toward the trees. What the hell am I doing? He’s a fucking tourist! Where did I leave the shorts?
It took seconds before his eyes adjusted to the dark and he could see the outline of the palms and eucs. Diving toward his hiding place, he pulled out his old board shorts wrapped in their plastic bag, pulled them on over his wet legs, and stood, breathing hard.
Whoever had come down the path now giggled in the water. Kai turned and looked over his shoulder. Couldn’t see far, but it looked like Rand was gone.
Can’t wipe the damned smile off my face. Rand peered down at the beach from the path. He’s gay. Son of a bitch. Does he know it? He snorted. Well, he does now. Either that or cold water reacts differently on Kai’s big cock. Chuckling, he took a barefooted step.
His foot slid on the loose dirt—shit!—and he pressed himself against the far side of the pathway. Sure could use that flashlight right now. Guess I’ll have to pay the hotel for it. He crept forward, smiling. Small price to pay, buddy. Small price to pay.
