by Kat Bastion
“Only once.” I stroked my knuckles a couple of inches up her thigh, then down—not much contact, but enough to gauge her reaction. “He called to tell me where to get gas for it.”
Her only reaction? Amusement. “A gas station…”
“The gas station.”
“Really? There’s only one Kaleo approves of?”
“Yep. Pure gas, without ethanol. Joe’s place. I think Kaleo said it’s called Joe’s Kula Auto—”
“—at Historic Calasa Garage,” she finished. “In Upcountry.” She gave a short nod. “I’ve seen it. Really cool old green building.”
I only half-listened to her words. Because her whole nonreaction thing stopped working for me the instant she’d brushed off the intimacy: I wanted to have an effect on her.
Testing boundaries, I twisted my wrist, then spread my fingers higher over the soft skin right below her short hemline.
“Been there since nineteen thirty-t—” A small gasp cut her last word short.
“Thirty-two,” I completed for her, doing my damnedest not to smirk. “How ya doin’ there?”
“Good.”
“Don’t want me touching you?”
She blew out a measured breath through pursed lips. “Can’t handle you touching. Not now. Not…yet.”
“Why?” I wanted to hear about the danger. “What will happen if I keep touching?”
“You know what would happen.”
“Do I?” I didn’t actually know. Would she shut me down? Or…would she spur me on?
When we came to a stop at a red light, I glanced at her. Her breaths had quickened. Pink colored her cheeks. Lust glittered in her eyes, but she didn’t seem embarrassed by it.
“Keep driving.” She slid her hand over mine, weaving our fingers together. Then she lifted my hand and planted it onto my thigh. With forceful pressure, she left hers there, as if guarding against any future attempts.
I chuckled. “Guess I don’t get to find out what happens when you get incredibly turned on in a moving vehicle.” Not yet, anyway.
She glared at me with as much irritation as she could muster while both amused and at least a little turned on. Then she crossed her arms, which gave me a scandalous view of her breasts above her low clinging neckline.
Topic change…
“Sooo…” The mystery had to end sometime. “Where exactly is La Pérouse?”
Her lips parted on a slight gasp as her expression lit up. “No way.”
“Way.” Yep. I’d been hoping she’d like where we were headed.
“Oh my God.” She clapped her hands together. Then she leaned forward to the edge of her seat and stared farther ahead, legs bouncing. “You’ll go past the curve, then it’s before mile marker seven on the right.”
Manicured greenery quickly surrendered to a drier landscape. To our upper left, Haleakala’s southern slope rose above us in undulating hills of brown and black with only occasional spots of green. Maui’s leeward side revealed her starkest landscape. And within minutes, the extremes became even more pronounced.
“Wow.” Brownish-black lava stretched ahead on both sides of the road, then flowed down toward an impossibly blue ocean. “Looks like the moon…on beachfront property.”
“Wait till you travel from Hana on this side…it’s even more desolate.”
“Not to Hana?”
She scowled with a hard headshake. “Too many miles of bumpy one-lane road. Some parts? Dense jungle so close you can touch vines on one side and see sheer cliff drop on the other. I’ve never driven it, but Makani refuses to drive it counterclockwise, says it feels like his tires are hanging halfway off the cliff edge.”
No thanks. But she acted like she’d been there firsthand. “You were the passenger with someone else?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah.” Silence followed, tense and awkward. Like she’d fallen into deep thought. About something that bothered her.
“Did something bad happen?”
“No.” Another pause stretched out. “Not to me. Right before I went with a guy, some friends had driven from this direction. They’d been drinking. Didn’t end well.”
No elaboration followed.
And I didn’t press the issue. Lots of secrets rattled around in her head, but I sure as hell wasn’t going force her to untangle them.
“There’s a small area ahead where we can park, but be careful where you drive her.” She gave a nod toward the jagged blackish-brown field that stretched along the coastline to our left. “It’s a‘a lava: sharp enough to puncture your tires.”
Ahhh…Why Makani had insisted I pack us good shoes—when he’d helped me plan the date behind Leilani’s back.
When we got out of the truck, I balanced the cooler bag against the back window, then handed her her thicker slippahs. “Volcano’s dormant, right?”
She gave me a knowing smile as she took them, then exchanged out her shoes. “Yeah. Last erupted, right in this area, over two hundred years ago. They don’t expect it to again.” She stared up at Haleakala, but then her gaze drifted toward the surfboards in the truck bed. “Seriously, you brought boards but we’re not surfing?”
“Not planning to.”
“Why’d you bring ’em?”
“Seems wrong to go to the beach without something to ride…” The last word trailed off as the innuendo hit me. “Unless we’re a sure thing on a first date.”
She replied with a gentle punch to my shoulder. “No.” All of a sudden, she cocked her head in thought, then faced northwest for a beat. When she turned back around, she tugged her lower lip in with her teeth, before releasing it. “You cool leaving the boards here?”
My gaze got stuck on her plump lower lip, how it glistened.
On a hard swallow, I focused on her question. “Are you?” They weren’t my most expensive, but I didn’t want them stolen either. I squinted and stared back along the empty roadway. We hadn’t seen one other car coming or going. The small parking lot stood empty, and we’d parked behind some greenery…but still.
“How long’s the date?”
Smooth. “Nice try.”
Her mouth fell open, innocent expression washing over her features. “What?”
“Not giving any hints. You planning on it being over before it starts?”
Instead of a smartass barb back, she crossed the few feet between us and placed her hand on my arm. The small action spread warmth through my chest.
“It’s my first real date. I hope it never ends. Can’t wait for it to begin.”
I gently grabbed the loose fabric of her dress, then tugged her against me. “If you can’t tell it’s started” —I gradually dipped my head down for a kiss— “I need to up my game.” By the last word, we made contact, barely touching. In no hurry, I brushed my lips along the seam. She sucked in a slow gasp. Then I pressed in a fraction more, gently molding our mouths together.
A low moan rumbled from her throat when the kiss deepened, her tongue sliding over mine.
Lazy seconds later, when I pulled away, I let out a slow exhale, trying to calm my heart.
Her lower lip had plumped further. Her breaths came in shallow bursts as she stared up at me, dazed.
Damn. I liked putting that amazed satisfaction on her face. “And it lasts as long as it takes.”
“As long as it takes for what?” Her voice had turned breathless.
“You’ll see…”
The corners of her lips twitched into a smile.
Perfect.
The board decision suddenly clicked into my head. “We’ll take ’em with us.”
“N’kay.” She looped the canvas strap of the soft-sided cooler onto her shoulder while I tugged the boards from the back of the truck, inverted one, then sandwiched them and, with a solid hoist up and lunge under, balanced both on my head.
“Where to?” A dusty cinder path forked into a couple of different directions, both heading down toward the ocean.
She stepped into my view. “I can carry
mine.”
“Nah, I’m good.”
After a pause, she nodded, then stared west again, squinting. “Up for a little lawbreaking?”
Not at all what I expected.
“Sure.” Why the hell not? I wanted to make a memorable first date? She apparently did too.
Without explanation, she turned away from both worn paths, heading instead through dense brush a couple of feet beyond the grill of the truck. She pulled back thicker branches for me until I followed and lowered the boards to work my way through. A house appeared seventy feet mauka from us, with a couple of beat-up Tacomas parked in the far corner, closer to the road. With quick steps, we continued on until lava hills and thicker foliage blocked us from view.
Once I caught up, she nodded toward the structure. “We have to be careful.”
“Says the hardened criminal.”
She glared my way, then smirked as a brisk wind danced the dark strands of her hair across her face. “Even though we have a legal right to the shoreline, they own the land.”
“Not friendly about trespassers?”
“Is a hello-by-shotgun friendly?”
“Sooo…that would be a no.”
Expertly balancing in her slippahs on an angled outcropping, she gave a quick headshake. The she turned and picked her way across a short lava bridge that spanned over the foaming surf.
“Where’s their aloha spirit?”
“Nowhere near their privacy.”
We wound our way mauka again, traversing through the sharp lava outcroppings. A brighter patch of shoreline up ahead caught my attention. The farther we hiked, the more the anomaly revealed itself until a wide swath of pristine golden sand stretched for a good thirty yards.
My feet sank into perfect spongy sand. “This doesn’t look natural.”
“Right?”
Four white chaise lounges lined up in a row, empty, but seeming to wait for specific occupants. “Or legal.”
“Scared?”
“No.” Not a chance.
Thrilled? Hell, yeah.
And intrigued. Because the woman seemed totally comfortable with breaking the law. After she’d made a clear rule about not dating me—and had now broken that too.
On a wide parcel of land, bordered on its far side by a field of unnavigable lava rock, a manicured lawn stretched up to a palatial Tahitian-style home. Where the grass ended a hundred feet upslope, an infinity pool spilled water over its exposed edge and spanned from one corner of a large lanai to the other. Another dozen white chaises peeked out from under its covered shade. Exotic blooming plants lined a stepping-stone path that led up to an informal garden where a verdigris metal sculpture stood beside a stone bench that angled toward the ocean.
Off right, a giant lava rock waterfall bubbled water down between ferns and small plants that were nestled into its crags and holes. The water spilled into an in-ground spa large enough to hold ten people, swirling currents across a bluish-black surface.
“Wow.” I set the boards down where grass met sand, then glanced at Leilani. “You been here before?”
“No. Saw it the one day I’d been surfing. Always wanted to check it out.”
“You’ve never been back after that first time?” Makani hadn’t mentioned it when I’d grilled him for ideas.
Her expression softened as she stared at me. “No.”
Perfect.
“Bag?” She tucked a thumb under the canvas strap at her shoulder, arching her brows.
“Yep.” I lifted it from her. “Now we can open the bag.”
Scanning the ground for fire ants but finding none, I nodded toward a partially shaded spot under two swaying palms near the beach. She sat on the lawn’s edge, legs bent in front of her, feet in the sand, then leaned back on outstretched arms and closed her eyes, angling her face toward the sun.
I stood frozen for a moment, struck by her pure beauty: smooth bronze skin, silken dark hair, gentle tempting curves. But the most captivating of all? The delicate smile on her lips.
Everything around us, land, sea, sky…all of it…was home to her.
And with every passing second, it transformed into home for me—with her. Somehow the distinction began to blur, like she’d become home. The sudden realization took me by surprise.
She squinted an eye open. “You opening that bag, or what? Better be some food in there.”
I planted my ass on the lawn beside her, then unzipped while she watched. Feeling her intense scrutiny, I handed her one of the paper takeout containers. “Fish and poi,” I blurted, afraid she’d be disappointed if she thought it was something else.
Her eyes widened a little, then the beginnings of another smile tugged at her lips. “I love fish and poi.”
“Yeah?”
I acted casual about it, but I’d known. Makani had said it was her favorite. What I hadn’t been sure about was whether takeout on a first date would be a good idea. But every time I’d considered the two of us dressed up in a restaurant? Anxiety had frozen my lungs until I’d remembered to breathe.
Instead, I’d opted for what came natural to me, to her. Where we felt most ourselves.
In each of our containers, crispy poi-battered fish tenders were stacked on a bed of greens on one side, a round cup filled with creamy purple poi sat in the other. I reached back into the bag and pulled out a third cup, thumbing off the top. “They insisted on more poi.”
“Can never have too much.”
I frowned at the purple paste. “Really.” When I shook the container, it jiggled. I lifted it to my nose and took a good sniff. Not much of a scent, earthy maybe.
When I glanced at her, she pressed her lips together to hide her amusement. “Try it.” She dipped one of her fish tenders into her paste, then dropped it onto her tongue.
A low groan vibrated from her throat as she closed her mouth and her eyes drifted shut.
My body instantly reacted to her sound, blood rushing southward, fast. I had to force out a steadying breath. Patience. “Well, damn. That sounds pretty good.”
“It’s the best.”
Good. My shoulders lowered in relief. The best fish and poi to her? Worked for me.
Remembering all the crazy food Deke and I bravely tried as kids, I grabbed a piece of battered fish, swiped it through the poi, then took a bite. Complex flavors burst over my tongue, the perfect balance of savory and rich, salty with a hint of mellow sweet. “Mmm…”
“Seeee?” Satisfaction sparkled in her eyes as she grabbed her second piece, dipped it deep into her poi, then popped the covered bite into her mouth.
We ate in companionable silence, relaxed on the lawn with our toes buried in soft sand. A low hum of comfortable energy surrounded our idyllic to-go picnic. Nothing needed to be said. No minutes of time that passed felt unfilled. We simply became two people well-suited to one another hangin’ alone on a beach.
She licked her fingers clean, making tiny lip-smacking noises at the tip of each finger. “What else you got in there?”
I got distracted, mind stuck as I watched her thumb disappear deep into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed slightly as she licked and sucked, while slowing pulling it back out.
“Mase…?” She snapped her fingers in front of my face.
I blinked. Right. Earth to Mase.
“Where’d you go?”
On a heavy exhalation, I gave a slow headshake. “Nowhere…” that I’m elaborating on. “Just thinking how much I love fish and poi too.”
Then she killed me all over again as she peeked out the tip of her tongue and licked her lips, but her expression held pure innocent joy.
My mind? Not a damn thing innocent going on there.
“Anything else in there?” She nodded toward the bag.
“I dunnooo…” Tuning down my charged-up libido, I made a big production of rooting around in the nearly empty bag. Then I flashed up a hand and waved it, crinkling the clear plastic wrapping. “Maui’s best banana bread?”
“Really.” Skept
icism riddled her tone while she eyed the thick slice in my hand with suspicion.
“So they say…”
She narrowed her eyes. “Who’s this ‘they’?”
“The royal council of banana bread tasters.”
“Uh-huh…aka: not telling.”
“Yep. You have your secrets, I have mine.” I peeled the wrapper back from the moist cake, then broke off a bite-sized corner. “Eat. You decide.” Because really, her opinion? Only one that mattered.
She plucked the bite from my fingers, dropped it into her mouth, then chewed slowly. Her expression relaxed. Then a smile began to form.
“And?”
“World’s best banana bread.” She swiped the rest of the slice from my hand. Then she broke off half and offered it to me.
“Because you’ve tasted all the banana bread ever baked in the entire world?” Because, really, who were we to pass on poking fun at a legitimate and verifiable claim.
“Well, yeah.” She gave a decisive nod.
Not caring about manners, I bit off half my piece. Buttery sweetness melted over my tongue. A groan escaped my throat. “Yep. World’s best.” Made even better since it was our world.
As we scarfed down our banana bread dessert, a sudden odd sound crackled in the distance, unnatural over the rustling palm fronds overhead and crashing surf along the coastline. The noise grew louder and sharper.
Crunching rock.
Under tires.
Lots of tires.
I darted a glance behind us and spotted three white-and-blue police cruisers come to a stop at the end of the gravel drive beside the house. One door flung open and an officer jumped out. “Hey, you, down there!”
“Time to go!” Leilani lunged up from the lawn, then reached for the bag.
“Leave it.” It only held our trash anyway. “Grab your board and head straight for the water.”
Because our golden beach sat at the protected end of a small bay, only gentle waves lapped the sand. But without watercraft, and nowhere to run but over dangerous lava, it was our only escape.
I pulled up the rear, jogging after her as she waded into the water. Then she popped onto her board on her belly and began paddling. When I glanced back, two of the three officers had made it halfway down the lawn.
