by Kat Bastion
“Yeah, but call me Mase.”
“Aloha, Mase. I’m Kevin, Makani sent me.”
Makani: Leilani’s brother. “What about Lei—”
The blaring airport paging system drowned out my question while Kevin grabbed my other duffel and turned toward the parking lot.
I retrieved my two loaded board and sail bags—ten feet apiece and stuffed to the seams—then followed him out to the parking lot, gear in tow. When we arrived at an older but well-maintained Ford SUV, I helped him load my smaller bags into the back then strap the board bags to the roof rack.
Irritation still chafed at me about the unexpected airport switch. But the warm midday sun and cool steady breeze began to wash away the negative vibe. Arriving at any new destination by the ocean had that calming effect on me. I sucked in a lungful of salty air, then sighed, a step more content on a spiritual level.
“Evah been ta Maui?” Kevin asked as he backed out of the parking space.
“No.” Not because I hadn’t wanted to, but while growing up, my country-club parents traveled to glitzier locales. If there wasn’t upper echelon networking potential in his political world? My parents didn’t bother.
Blowing out a hard breath to clear out the bitter taste in my mouth for the seconds I’d wasted thinking about my parents, I stared out the window as our SUV rumbled out of the parking lot and took in my first glimpses of Maui.
“Costco?” I craned my neck out the open window, shocked to see the familiar red-and-blue sign. The place looked brand new, glass walls separating a large indoor/outdoor eating area.
“Yeah. An’ a Target. Home Depot. Lowes is buildin’ a biggah store. Even got one a dem fancy Whole Foods. Don’ got no Victoria Secret, but dey suppos’ ta be workin’ on it.”
I choked out a laugh. “It’s okay. I’m not into buying lingerie.”
“Me eidah. But my wife an’ her friends talk story ’bout it, on an’ on.”
Not that I was opposed to lingerie. Women needed bras and panties. I got that. But lace and ribbons. Uh…no. I’m a simple man. Naked works.
Silence filled the cab as my thoughts drifted to Leilani. And the two of us days ago on our isolated stretch of beach. Her…naked.
The earlier calm I’d felt dissipated. Restlessness flooded into its place. Too many days had passed since the night she and I had spent together. A night filled with unspoken hope. And unfinished business.
The stoplight turned green, but Kevin waited.
“Makai or mauka?”
I blinked at his foreign words, shaking off my guttered thoughts and agitation. “Uh…what?”
“Toward da ocean or toward da mountain? Makai or mauka. Where to?”
“Where’s Leilani?” I didn’t explain that she was supposed to pick me up. The slight was between her and me.
“Not sure. Makani said she said she had t’ings ta do. Would meet up wit’ choo latah.”
But no text. No word from her. Just her clear message of wanting distance by sending a stranger without warning. Uneasy about where she and I stood, I sucked in a tight breath. Then a horn blared from a car behind us as the traffic light turned yellow.
“Ho‘okipa Beach,” I finally replied, looking to settle my nerves. Firing waves were the only consistent thing that ever did—my form of therapy. “How’s the surf?” At least the trade winds had the good sense to be reliable.
“Sick.”
“Awesome.” I’d only seen video footage of windsurfing there. Looked forward to the real thing.
For a short distance down Hana Highway, the ocean spanned to the left. But my attention kept drawing right, across open fields, up green foothills, climbing further to a massive mountain whose peak disappeared into the clouds.
“Dat’s Haleakala.” When I glanced toward Kevin, he continued, nodding toward the mountain. “Dormant volcano. Got an observatory up der.”
My thoughts flashed to the stars, gazing up at them with Leilani…with Deke…
We passed a polished silver-sided food truck, where the rich, salty scent of cooking meat made my mouth water. Approaching a second one, my stomach growled. “Those food trucks any goo—”
Before I got the word fully out, he swerved onto the dirt shoulder. Pings of gravel peppered the wheel wells and a small cloud of dust rose into the air, only to dissipate seconds later in a gust of wind. “Want tacos? JoJo’s got da best road grindz dis side of da island.”
My stomach growled again in answer. “Sold.”
Knowing I’d be surfing in a few minutes, I only ordered one of the fish tacos on special. After our food came up, we leaned against the side of the truck, staring at the ocean as we ate. “So if food trucks aren’t around, what are good places to eat?”
“Mama’s Fish House. Spendy. But worth it. ’Specially if ya wanna impress a lady.”
After polishing off the taco in a few bites, I crumpled up the paper wrapper, then tossed it into a trash can beside the truck.
“Wait.” Pausing as I turned, I narrowed my eyes at a group of five Hawaiian girls in bikinis across the street; a couple of them held colorful shave ices.
“Ai’ight. You wase no time checkin’ out da beach hunnies.”
“No.” I shook my head, pulse suddenly jackhammering. “Not all of them. One of them.”
I’d recognize her anywhere. Those luscious curves. Her silken hair. But even from behind, it was the way her slight frame defined her attitude when she jutted her left hip out and dropped a hand on it.
“Leilani.” The moment her name left my lips, she turned, bright smile on her face, hair whipped back by the wind. But she didn’t see me, only nodded to something one of her friends said, then laughed.
Kevin snorted, then slapped me on the back. “Nuttin’ but trouble fo’ you der, haole.”
Exactly.
“Yeah, I know,” I mumbled under my breath.
Every bone in my body hummed with how perfect trouble sounded.
I’d done the straight and narrow. Chased their dream. Followed society’s wishes. Been the good son. Dated the accepted, pedigreed girl.
Wasn’t my path. Wasn’t living. Not even close.
And as I stared at a girl filled with wildness vibrating just under the surface, I saw myself a few months ago. Someone wanting to break free, but not quite knowing how.
Hell, even I didn’t have a roadmap. There wasn’t any guidebook to follow when you’re being true to yourself—when you’re only just discovering what makes you tick deep inside.
When she finally turned my way, the easy smile on her beautiful face fell. Then her eyes narrowed. Her shoulders pulled back.
Oh, fuck yeah. I’d definitely strayed far from the safe path. Leilani Kealoha? Made wandering into an untamed jungle worth every dangerous step.
“Surfing can wait. Give me a minute, will you?”
Kevin gave me a smirking nod before I crossed the street.
Leilani said something to her friends as she cautiously watched me, and they turned my way. A couple of them smiled. One girl laughed and shouted something. An instant scowl lined Leilani’s face before she whirled around to face the girl, raising her hands toward her with a jerk, fingers flaring wide in agitation. Then she stormed away from the group and tossed her barely eaten treat into the trash.
Veering toward a picnic table, she grabbed a dress and pulled it on over her head.
An additional layer of attitude rolled over every tense muscle in her body by the time she reached the side of the road.
“What are you doing here, stalking me?”
“Good question. I have a better one: Why didn’t you pick me up at the airport?”
“I did. Had Makani send Kevin.”
“We agreed you’d be my assistant. Tour guide.”
“I delegated.” She waved a hand toward Kevin. “He wanted to meet you. I didn’t argue.”
“Why did he want to meet me? He a fan?” I glanced back at Kevin, who handed over a few bills and grabbed another sizable taco
from the vender.
“Sure.” The corners of her lips twitched in amusement. “You could say that.”
More riddles and secrets. Fine. She wanted to be vague, I could play. I wrote the book.
“Well, I didn’t agree to delegation. I hired you. And I expect you.”
“Fine.”
Exactly.
“Where to? Find any houses to show me or am I staying with you tonight.” I weighted the last word, dropping the question right out of it.
“Like hell you are. C’mon.” She turned and started across the road, toward Kevin’s SUV.
I remained where I stood, staring at her back while I marveled at the one-eighties in her demeanor. She’d reverted back the irritated girl standing on my towel in the South Pacific, as if she’d been forced to go and recruit me against her will. Back then, all it had taken was a few tequila shots to ply out the real Leilani, the one she hid under all the layers of pretense…or protection.
When she reached the back bumper, she turned to face me from across the road. Her shoulders shrugged up, brows lowered, and upturned hands raised while she mouthed something toward me with an irate questioning expression.
I read her lips, interpreting her unmistakable words: What the fuck?
“My thoughts exactly,” I muttered.
Then I shook my head and crossed the road, suppressing a grin—pleased as fuck at how interesting an entire day with her promised to be.
Leilani…
Raw anger grated under my skin.
From my stifling circumstances.
And with my intolerant family.
But most recently—about the infuriating man sitting beside me.
It felt weird thinking about Mase as a man—same age as Makani, as most of the kanaks I hung out with. But no other word fit.
Arms crossed, body crammed to my side of a bench seat in the back of the real estate agent’s car, I stole a glance over at him. He had the nerve to look my way. And smile.
I sighed, mad at him. But more at myself. For landing my rebellious ass into this mess.
“You two lookin’ for a place to settle down in?” Evelyn, the Realtor at the wheel, asked.
“No!” I cringed at my screeched word. And its violent exclamation point.
“No,” I repeated lower, tone way calmer. Why the sudden outburst? Had to be the unexpected question, nothing more. Not nerves. But denial didn’t change the clear evidence: I clenched my shaking hands together, stressed out. What I got for choosing a real estate agent who didn’t know me.
At first, I’d thought finding a stranger would be impossible to do. Turned out, every other person living on the island, especially “retirees” who lived here year-round, had their real estate license, dabbling in selling or leasing houses between sets of waves. “Or rounds of golf…” I muttered.
“What?” Mase nudged my shoulder. When had he closed the two-foot distance between us?
I shoved him back, making him shoot an arm out to keep from crashing against the far door. Then I forced my body over into the couple of inches of space he’d lost and stayed in the center of my seat, claiming my territory back.
You can do this, Leilani.
I could do anything. Had fooled my family for years. And I had no intention of them getting un-fooled. I wouldn’t let them find out; their acceptance was too important to me.
Focusing on the back of Evelyn’s shiny black hair, how the blunt cut fell perfectly above her shoulders without a strand out of place, I answered her question, “He’s only here to surf.”
“To live.” He glanced at me with an arched brow.
My ass. “Temporarily.”
“Permanently.”
Doubt it. “We’ll see.”
“You think I can’t plant roots?”
I dropped him an exhausted look. “Why should I? Most people don’t.”
“It’s true.” Evelyn glanced over her shoulder at him. “Average stay is less than two years.”
“Island fever,” he added with an understanding nod.
Evelyn slowed as we approached our first stop, someone’s one bedroom ‘ohana behind a main house. “Seems only those who have a love for the island never want to leave.”
“Right.” The person I was supposed to be. Only…
“Except for adventurers at heart,” he murmured loud enough for only me to hear as the warmth of his hand covered my thigh. He gave a gentle squeeze, then left his hand there.
Intimate.
And…not.
Under the solid, continued pressure, sizzling tingles formed beneath my skin. A deeper heat gradually spread up my thigh, until it settled into a low throbbing ache, right between my legs. But it didn’t stop there. A heavier warmth drifted upward, into my gut, then higher, surrounding my thumping heart.
I gasped at the realization—that he affected me so much, so quickly. Not just physically. Deeper. Stronger. And that…he got me—understood what I wanted, remembered what I’d longed to do with my life from one drunken night where we’d poured our hearts out with no fear or judgement.
Then I drew in several deep breaths, until my head spun with dizziness.
“Ready, kids?” Evelyn had already opened her car door, stood outside looking in toward the two of us.
We’d been sitting there. Me breathing. Him touching.
Snapping the rest of the way out of my brain-fuzz, I pulled my gaze from her, stared at the back of the headrest straight ahead for a beat, then glanced at him.
He stared at me. Had probably been watching me the whole time.
Lifting his brows ever so slightly, the corners of his lips twitched into a small knowing smile. “Ready?”
“Sure.” Not even close.
But I’d ridden the unknown before, had dropped into fearsome waves blinded with where to carve my line until the last second. If I could do that with the deadly power of the ocean nipping at my heels? I can do anything. I repeated the mantra.
And maybe…
I opened the door, slipped out from under the sensual weight of his hand, and planted my feet on solid ground. He got out and shut the door while I blew out a steadying breath. Gaze locking with mine, he rested a hand on the roof of the polished black Lexus sedan. I didn’t look away from him—didn’t flinch. I stared down what I feared most at that moment in time.
Just maybe…
I get off on the danger.
“…and this is your place to park,” Evelyn droned on, as if Mase and I hadn’t been on our own planet until seconds ago, as if we’d been listening.
“No.” He opened the door and began to get back into the car.
The emphatic word from him surprised me. “Not even gonna look?” The place needed a coat of paint. The metal roof had rust in a ton of places, but it didn’t look like it would leak. Much.
“Nope. Not big enough.”
“The land or the house?” Evelyn asked while rifling through a handful of pages she’d tucked under her arm.
“Both.” He narrowed his eyes in thought, staring at the older buildings as we got back in. “Not some shack behind another house.”
“You willing to go rougher for it?” She paused on one of the pages, scanned down its length. Then she started the car and backed out of the driveway. “Maybe a fixer upper?”
“Prefer it, actually.”
“There’s a couple of places that might work.”
“Where at?” I asked, suddenly needing to know where he might live.
“Haiku.” She drove to the end of the neighborhood street, then turned left.
Oh. Close. “Where else?”
“Kula.” Her eyes met mine in the mirror.
Better. Farther from my place. From the beach, too. Which was a whole lot safer for me. Wasn’t about to point it out to Mase, though.
Minutes later, Evelyn slowed, then turned onto dual concrete strips with grass growing in the middle. “This is a ribbon driveway. Center needs to be mowed,” she added as the long uncut blades brushed
the underside of her car.
We’d passed the historic sugar mill but hadn’t yet hit downtown Haiku, its sleepy town center reclaiming new life with retail and restaurants occupying the renovated pineapple cannery.
The tires hadn’t even rolled to a stop before Mase opened his door and got out. The plantation-style house was small, but bigger than the last one. He walked along the line of plants that marked the edge of the yard as he scanned the surrounding properties. “Neighbors are close.”
I blinked. Never having shopped for a house to live in before, I grew more and more fascinated by what was important to him.
Curiosity rippled under my skin. “You need faraway neighbors?”
He walked toward me with slow steps, expression growing intense. My breath caught at the mischievous spark in his eyes. The world fell away; I had no idea where Evelyn had gone.
I continued to stare at him as he approached, but I didn’t move a muscle.
Close.
Closer.
My breathing grew shallow as he gradually pressed into my space. Determined to keep our eye contact, I held my ground, tilting my face upward. Every instinctual sense I had riveted on him: I heard the subtle rasp in his deep breaths, noticed his pupils widen in those ice-blue eyes, almost felt the pulse beating at the base of his neck.
He broke our eye contact, lowering his head. Breath feathered over my ear, ruffled through my hair. “Sounds tend to carry at night.” Gruffness edged his tone, along with a heavy dose of innuendo.
Riiight…
I swallowed hard, mind reeling with the sordid images. Because I didn’t get the impression he was a screamer—which meant he caused said sounds.
No awesome smartass reply came. My brain got stuck on all the things he might do to make a woman scream loud enough for neighbors to hear.
And my body responded, aching with heat in all kinds of intimate places.
Blowing out a hard breath, I stepped away from him and glanced up into eyes blazing with fire. With firm resolve, I gave him a slow headshake, then turned away.
I said no to him.
No to me.
Even though every cell in my body was already screaming nothing remotely close to a no.
“Yeah,” I muttered, taking one solid step after another to increase the space between us. When I reached the front corner of a small overgrown garden beside the house, I turned to see him still standing there, in the same spot where he’d teased me with clear intent. Then I drew in a breath that in no way calmed me. “Dangerous.”
