by Cathryn Cade
She elbowed him, and he fell back on the blanket laughing as he fended her off.
She lay on his chest, idly stroking his bicep. They were one of her favorite parts of him. "So did you steal anymore?" she asked.
"Nah," he said, playing with her hair. "I was tempted a time or two, but every time, it was like I could see the disappointment in Humo's eyes. So I went straight...in that, at least."
She lifted her head. "Do you mean to tell me you and your biker bros do things that are illegal?"
"Maybe," he said.
"Oh, you can't talk about it? Bros before hos?" She moved to slide off of him.
He held her there, his big hands on her ass. He gave her a squeeze. "No, it’s not that. It’s just, some stuff only the brothers know about. But don't start imagining we're out shaking people down and shit like that. Never—we just look out for our own. And sometimes...that may possibly mean the cops can't do anything, but..."
"You can," she breathed. "Okay. I get that."
"Good. Now, you wanna hear my puke story?"
"Euw!" she protested, although she did it laughing. "No. I wanna know about your dad. Are you going to see him again?"
He heaved a sigh. "Nah. Prob'ly not. Honestly, tita, I can't stand to be around him the way he is, and he doesn't wanna change. Better for both of us if I leave him in peace."
"Aw," she said, sadness for him piercing her heart. "Well, at least you tried, right?"
"Yeah," he said, sliding his arms up around her. "At least I tried. Now, you wanna sleep down here, or go up to the house?"
She pretended to think. "Hmm, go up and shower the sand out of my butt-crack and sleep in a nice comfy bed, or stay here? Just can't decide."
"Smart-ass," he said. "I could help you with that sand." He moved to demonstrate.
She let out a shriek, and struggled to get away. "Moke! You get your fingers out of there—no! I'll get you for that."
He let her go, chuckling. "Not sure how, 'cause you wanna play naughty with my ass, I'm all for it. Just sayin'."
She blew out a breath, blushing despite what they'd been doing just a short time ago. "Uh...maybe when we know each other better."
"Mm-hmm," he approved, his chuckle turning dirty. "Looking forward to that."
The scary part was, so was she.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
The next few days were some of the happiest that Shelle could recall.
Knowing her Hawaiian idyll was nearly over made it all the more crucial she wring every bit of tropical sweetness from the remaining time, like juice from a pineapple.
She, Vicky and Dave chatted every morning over breakfast. Then Shelle went for a walk or jog, cooled off in the pool, and worked on her second paper. It was a lot more difficult than the research paper, but she worked on it steadily.
And around lunchtime, Moke showed up to take her out somewhere.
First, they went paddle-boarding in the bay. It was a lot more difficult than Shelle had expected. Both she and Moke fell a lot, which meant she had never laughed so hard in her life. Watching the big Hawaiian go into the water was like watching an evergreen topple. They got the hang of it after a while, and made their way out to the mouth of the bay, skirting tour boats and swimmers.
There, Moke pointed to the water. "Shelle, look."
A silver back broke the surface of the water, and then another. "Oh, my God," she breathed. "Is that...?"
"Da nai'a," he said with a huge smile. "Spinner dolphins. Just stay here, they're coming in to the bay. They feel like it, they'll come right to you."
Balanced on her board, moving lightly with the ripple of waves, Shelle watched in awe as the pod of dolphins swam right up to them, and around their boards. Looking down from standing height into the clear water, she could see them perfectly. They looked back, their eyes wise, mouths stretched in merry grins—okay, she knew they weren't really smiling, but they looked so joyful.
A few feet away, one suddenly rocketed into the air, spinning around before dropping back into the water. Shelle cried out in awe. Another followed, and another, while she and Moke watched and laughed.
Then one leaped up right beside her board, and she flinched and lost her balance, splashing into the water in the midst of the dolphins.
Laughing, Moke knelt on his board to steady hers while she crawled back on. She mopped her streaming face, and looked around. "Oh, did I scare them away?"
"Nah," he said. "They just moved on. You ready to paddle some more?"
She so was.
When they returned their boards to the rental kiosk on the beach, she hugged Moke, smiling up into his face. "Thank you. That was one of the most fun things I've ever done." And much of that was because she'd gotten to do it with him.
He draped his arm around her shoulders and steered her out of the way of a family waiting to rent boards. "Glad you liked it. Got another surprise for you tomorrow."
She bounced on her toes, a hand on his chest. "What? What is it?"
He shook his head, smirking. "Not telling you. Now, you wanna go get a beer?"
"Meany. Fine, I'll have a beer with you."
She tiptoed up to give him a kiss. He kissed her back, and then shook his head. "Changed my mind. Taking you somewhere private."
"Okay," she said breathlessly. Sounded like an awesome idea to her.
They ended up at Nawea again.
Tangled in each other and an edge of cotton sheet, Moke asked lazily, "You wanna go out for supper, or grill here? I caught another fish this morning."
She smiled against his shoulder. "Grill here. Your big fish are sooo tasty."
He chuckled. "Glad you think so. Pretty tasty yourself."
The next morning Shelle woke to a strange, loud rumble of sound. She lifted her head and looked around her, alarmed. Moke was gone, the bed beside her empty. What the hell was that?
Some kind of vehicle. A...oh, crap, a motorcycle?
Grabbing the nearest article of clothing, one of Moke's tees, she dragged it on and ran downstairs, opening the front door to peek out.
The throaty roar of a motor filled the morning air. And the sight that greeted her was ah-maz-ing. Moke, wearing only a pair of black shorts and water-sandals straddling a big, gleaming, silver-and-black motorcycle. His head was tipped to one side as he listened to the motor, his hair falling over his shoulder and arm. He squeezed something on the handlebar nearest to her and the bike revved.
Shelle stepped outside. He lifted his head, and their eyes locked. On the bike, he was serious, intent, all muscle and brawn, a male in his prime, in his element.
She walked straight to him, heedless of the pavement under her bare feet, or the loose pebbles on it.
He opened his arm to her, and she stepped in close, arms sliding around him, the rumble of the big motorcycle vibrating up through her, shivering into her core, leaving her wet and wanting.
"Okay," she breathed. "Now I get it."
He grinned wickedly. "Wanna go for a ride on a big machine, tita?"
"With you? Hell, yeah."
They ate a quick breakfast, dressed, and he took her back out to where the bike waited, along with two helmets. "You ever been on a bike before?" he asked.
"Just street bikes, though."
"Good," he said. "I get your road bike cherry." He laughed at the look on her face, and kissed her. Then he opened the saddlebag on one side of the bike, and handed her a shopping bag. "Here. You gonna need this."
Shelle opened the bag, and pulled out a soft, cream hoodie. HAWAII was embroidered on the front in matching thread, along with a dolphin leaping gracefully. "Oh, it's so cool," she said, her eyes wide. "For me?"
"Something to remember your trip," he said. "Put it on. We're going up mauka, up the mountain. Pretty up there, but cooler."
"Okay." She pulled the hoodie on, and smoothed it down over her hips. It fit loose and comfy, although too warm for the sun in which they stood. "What do you think?"
He nodded, smirking. "Nice."
"Thank you, Moke. When did you buy this?"
"Yesterday, before I picked you up. Got me one too." He pulled a soft black one out and donned it.
She grinned at the black shark embroidered on his. "Perfect, big guy."
"Good. Now, helmets."
"Can't believe you wear a helmet. That's awesome."
He made a face. "Don't usually."
But he was today, with her? That was really sweet.
He straddled the bike, showed her how to climb on after him, and keep her leg away from the hot tailpipe. "Don't be scared, I won't let anything happen to you."
She huffed. "Me, scared? As if."
He winked. "That's my tough tita."
Her arms securely around his waist, they rolled slowly up the drive, and stopped at the highway. "Here we go," he called.
They rode up winding roads, past homes and schools and little farms, and up into the rainforest. Trees and vines grew close along the road, and old lava rock had been piled into low fences, some joined by modern wire. A few cows and horses grazed peacefully in their lush meadows.
Moke stopped and turned off the motor for a little while, so they could listen to the sounds of the forest. Birds called in the trees, and something grunted, followed by rustling through the brush.
"Feral pigs," he told her. "Sounds like a mama with young ones."
She nodded, her chin on his shoulder. "I like the birds."
"Yeah." He patted her thigh. "Ready to go?"
They rode back down the mountain, and into town. He took her to supper at a little place along the road, where most of the other customers were locals. Moke ordered, so she could try some of the local foods.
Ahi poke, or marinated raw tuna, no. "It's too squishy," she told him, taking a hasty drink of beer to wash it out of her mouth.
He shook his head in mock sadness, then took a big bite and chewed blissfully. "Your loss, haole girl. Try the musubi."
Musubi, pronounced MOO-soo-bee, seemed to be mostly rice, with a layer of Spam in the middle, rolled in seaweed, and fried. Shelle dipped it in the sweet-spicy sauce and took a cautious bite. "Mm-hmm." She nodded. "Good."
She loved the calamari, too, little bits of deep-fried goodness. "Like it? That's squid," he told her, his eyes dancing.
She winked at him. "Yeah, I know. Had this before in Seattle."
"Dang. Thought I'd get to shock you with that one. 'Oh, Moke, I can't eat that! It's squid tentacles!'" he mimicked in a falsetto voice.
Shelle rolled her eyes at him, and grabbed two more pieces from the plate. "Careful, or I'll order an umbrella drink and make you share it."
"No luck, tita. They don't serve 'em here."
"That's okay. I'll fix you one myself when we get back to Nawea."
But he wasn't listening anymore. Face blank, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, then put it to his ear. "Yeah?"
Shelle sat back in her chair, suddenly chilled despite the warmth of the evening. She wiped her greasy fingers on a napkin, watching him as he listened to his call. Something in the remoteness of his expression told her this was one of his 'brothers' from his club.
And that she probably didn't want to know what—or who—they were talking about.
As it would turn out, she was right.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Outside the cafe, dusk was falling. The street was full of headlights and taillights flashing. Cars, pickups and other motorcycles—locals off work, headed out for supper or down to a beach. And the tourists, poking along the sidewalks, or driving along craning their necks for street signs while their passenger held a phone, lit up with some traffic app.
Moke led the way to the motorcycle, which he'd parked in plain view of their table. Wasn't having any punk decide to steal it while Moke was using it.
The mood he was in, he'd probably smash the perp into a pulp on the sidewalk.
Rocker's words had been curt and to the point. "Moke? That merchandise we ordered has come in. Being held for us at the warehouse. I'm headed to Seattle, you need to get there too. We'll look it over, probably do some work on it before we turn it over to the final buyers."
"Right," Moke said. "How long do I have?"
"You got two tickets waiting for you, flight out tomorrow. I'll send you the deets."
"Ah. Okay. Back to you then."
He put his phone away, for now, and led the way outside into the warm evening.
Shelle followed him, her eyes wide, face serious. "What is it?" she asked quietly.
"Can't talk here," he told her as a group of young Asians trooped by, talking and laughing. "Too many people."
She climbed onto the bike behind him, and they nosed out into traffic, and headed down toward the main drag. Traffic was stop and go, so they rode along slowly, until Moke had a clear lane to pass on the right. He rolled them past the long line of cars, checked the intersection and turned onto the boulevard, headed south toward Nawea. He took Ali'i Drive along above the condos and resorts until the last traffic light, where the buildings stopped, and they were riding through the dusk, the ocean rolling on one side, the mountain rising up on the other.
Fuck, he loved riding. And with Shelle holding onto him, her sweet curves pressed into his back, the ride was even better. He wanted to keep going, hit the throttle and ride all the way to the south end of the island, until the road petered out into rough lava plain, and there was nothing left but steep cliffs and the night and the sea, and that moon path shining bright on the water.
Another time, he'd take her with him and ride all night.
This time, he took the turn for Nawea.
Outside the house, he looked down at her, his hot haole tita, all hair and eyes, curves and attitude. "Time to go back," he told her.
She knew what he meant instantly. She still stood as tall and as straight, but at the same time, she seemed to shrink into herself. She put a hand on his waist, curled her fingers into his tee. "Did they...find the guys?" she asked. "The Rattlers."
He nodded, smoothing his hand down her back. "Yeah." And Albany, but he wasn't burdening her with that info, not yet. Albany was a whole 'nother level of shit, that would be the Flyers' business only. Until they turned him over to the law, that is.
She swallowed, her throat working. "Wait—who found them? The cops, or...your, uh, brothers?"
"Brothers. Seattle chapter."
"Okay. So you have to go and, uh, mete out justice?"
Moke couldn't help it, he chuckled. He pulled her into him, against his body and tipped his head down, laughing into her hair. "Fuck, tita. Sometimes you talk like a history book, you know?"
She hugged him back, but as she tipped her head back, her smile was half-hearted. "Moke. I don't want you to get in any trouble."
He lifted his hand to cup her face. "Hey," he chided. "I won't. Promise."
Her face said she didn't quite believe him. "So, when do you have to leave?"
"Uh, they reserved two tickets, Shelle. One for me, one for you. Cops are gonna need their witness."
"Oh, right." She swallowed again, then nodded once, emphatically. "Okay. When do we leave?"
That was his brave tita. He was so proud of her, he wanted to roar. "We have a flight out tomorrow evening. So, you prob'ly wanna spend the day with your mom tomorrow, huh?"
She nodded. "I do."
"Okay. Then we'll make that happen. And the rest of it, we'll take it as it comes, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay. But for tonight, can we—" she looked up at him and leaned closer. "Can we just forget about all of it, for one more night?"
Sweet heat swelled in his chest, and surged straight to his groin. "Oh, yeah, gorgeous. That we can do."
Lying together after sex was as sweet as the sex, Shelle decided, just in a different way.
In the quiet, second-story bedroom, with moonlight shining in between the curtains along with the warm night air, she and Moke talked, like a real couple. And she learned things about him that were important
, to him and thus to her, to understand him.
"Tell me about being a Devil's Flyer," she asked tonight. "Like, is that what you always wanted to do? Be a biker, and part of a club?"
"Nah," he said. "Don't have any here, just friends who go for a ride together now and then. It was... well, when I left here, I was pissed off at the world. At my parents, and at the people here who thought I'd never amount to anything, never be more than that lolo Millie and drunk Timo Ahuelo's boy. And that kinda gave me a chip on my shoulder, you know?"
"Uh, yeah," she agreed. "Of course it did."
He patted her hip in thanks. "The Ho'omalu's were about the only ones who treated me like I was good as every other kid. Anyways, during high school I tried to get part time jobs, you know, just to start earning money for stuff. Had a hard time finding people to trust me. My family's reputation combined with this size—they looked at me and they saw trouble. I worked for Humo up on his farm...but I didn't really like it. Tried working out at Honokohau harbor with Hilo, but honestly? Being around boats all the time? Not my thing."
She made a sound of agreement, and he went on. "So soon as I had enough money working for them, I left. Told you I worked around, found my way to Spokane. Met my best bro T-Bear and Pete, and hung around the Flyers' clubhouse with them. And I saw this big, rowdy family. They argue and sometimes they get drunk and fight and break shit, but we stick together like glue—like blood. We always got each others' backs. And we protect each others' families, and we take care of our friends. And we don't look at each other and see old history, we see that every one of us is a Devil's Flyer. And that matters most. The club gave me my first job in Airway Heights, and they helped me get on at JJ's Auto. And 'cause T and I worked there, all the Flyers give JJ their business. If T and I get into any trouble as owners, they'll be there to help us out."
She smiled against his chest. He'd started by saying they, but it had turned to we. These men were truly his family now.
"I can see now why the club is so important to you," she said. "They sound—aside from the fighting and breaking shit—perfect for you."
He chuckled. "Yeah, that pisses off all the old ladies."
