"I talked to the pilot and told him not to leave during the brewing storm, but he explained he would be fired on the spot. He assured me he had flown in worse weather and handled it. The smug general boarded the helicopter, and it whirled away," Liam said in a hollow voice.
"You did what you could to prevent the tragedy," I said as I watched him gaze out over the ocean.
Could he still hear the fateful engine noise fading away? Maybe he shouldn't live on the water. Too many memories rode those waves.
"After a half hour and worsening weather, the whir of the helicopter rose up, signaling their return. I ran to the rail to see the copter battling to stay level in the air. The landing crew assembled on deck to give guidance. The pilot hovered over the ship. In the last few meters, the copter was pushed left, tipping it sideways. A blade broke off, killing two men on deck instantly. The copter slammed onto the carrier, killing the general and the man seated behind him," he said and then drained the beer bottle.
He'd watched, powerless, as the horror had unfolded. I wiped a few tears away and slugged down the wine cooler.
Not knowing what to say, I reached out for his hand. He took it and brought it to his lips for a kiss. His grip was strong and gentle as he rubbed my knuckles with his thumb.
"The remaining passengers struggled to free themselves. I used a pocketknife to saw at the dead pilot's harness. The woman behind him grasped my hand. I had to remove his body to get to her. I promised not to leave her as I dragged the pilot away, and more sailors ran up to help the others get out. Another wind gust spun the copter around, causing it to hit the side of the ship and burst into flames. I swear I heard her scream as I was thrown backward from the blast. Stunned, I watched my crew sustain burns and multiple other injuries. I passed out as I was brought below deck to the medical team. I had a concussion and a few cuts and bruises," he said as he popped another beer cap.
He didn't know I'd seen the substantial scar on his back. Was it from another accident or this one?
Overcome with emotion and needing some consolation myself, I leaned in to hug him. He accepted it, pulled me into his lap, and rocked me.
"Two days later, I was informed I had received a formal reprimand for allowing the helicopter to fly and a commendation for bravery under fire. By the end of the month, I had resigned my commission. Gran had settled here, invited me out for a visit, and I never went back," he said in an even tone.
So much trauma, and he probably thought he hadn't suffered enough. His scars were on the inside too and bled a little more each day. We asked so much of our protectors and offered so little in return.
"They made a mistake by accepting your resignation. Common sense and concern for others' safety are rare finds in any profession," I said as I faced him.
"It's weakness in the chain of command. Obeying orders is sacrosanct in the military," he said after he kissed my cheek.
I responded with a full-on mouth kiss and needed little encouragement to straddle him. I dove in for more as his hands surfed up my shirt. In a moment of clarity, I considered that I didn't know this man, was questioned by the police about a possible murder, and had planned to marry the victim a mere forty-eight hours ago.
I had no use for clarity or her sisters, lucidity and certainty. They could get their own guy.
Liam stood as I wrapped my legs around his hips and buried my face in his neck. He angled me through the front door, wound his way to the bedroom, and set me on the bed.
He must have wanted me badly, or was it any port in the storm? I'd talk myself out of mind-blowing sex because the man may not love me? This was why sex had always been an unsatisfying experience. I stopped to think about my motives and moves.
I looked up into his soulful blue eyes, and he smiled.
"You're beautiful," he said as he cupped my cheek.
He was indescribably gorgeous, an old soul who held to a sacred honor and smelled delicious. It was like a combination of an exotic flower and a sinful dessert and a winning scratch-and-sniff lottery ticket.
"The loo is the second door on the left. Sleep well," he said as he strolled out of the room.
I waited a bit just in case he popped back in and yelled, "Psych." After being alone for a half hour, I plumped up the pillows and lay down. What did I do wrong? I thought I understood clues but had missed the biggest one. In a world of live in the moment and forget the consequences, he was a gentleman.
I had no luck.
* * *
"Do you know how to roll over?" Liam asked as we entered the dark bakery.
"Not since I was a puppy," I said, yawning after a few hours of fitful sleep.
He clicked on the overhead lights and scalded my eyes. I shielded them with my hand and could have used an ultraviolet face shield.
"I'm talking about scone dough," he said as he looped an apron over my head and tied it around my waist.
I shivered as my spine remembered his touch and demanded more. I leaned on the counter to keep my balance and get a better view of him. After flipping the oven on, he smiled as he opened the refrigerator and leaned over. My mouth went dry, and I begged my eyes to skip the next ten blinks.
Was anything about him not sensual, or was my imagination stuck on the vision of him in those trunks?
He faced me, holding an egg carton, a few pounds of butter, and a gallon of milk in his hands.
"Now it's your turn. The rest of the ingredients are in that cabinet," he said as he motioned to the one behind me. "You'll have to bend over."
He set his materials on the counter and watched me.
I wasn't used to performing for men, and my butt was a tad big. I packed the equivalent of an extra hip. It was a genetic thing. The challenge in his look dared me to be brazen. Wished I knew how to carry it off.
I opened the door, squatted down still facing him, and reached behind me. The plastic canisters were big and bulky. I turned around and tried to lift one off the shelf. I had the flour one in my arms but couldn't stand. Liam loomed over me and took it out of my grasp.
"Can you hand me the sugar?" he asked.
I enjoyed the view of his muscular thighs and all the good things in between as I pulled out the next bin. I held it up, and he slid it on the counter as I stood. He blocked me between his forearms and the cabinet.
"I underestimated what a distraction you would be here," he said after kissing my nose.
"I could go back to your place and draw myself a bath, add some bubbles while I slide into the…"
I didn't get to finish my visual as Liam had me up on the counter between the flour and sugar. This was a man who understood angles, depth charges, and full speed ahead. The oven timer went off, and so did we. I didn't realize I could have so much fun with my clothes on.
I should have taken up baking years ago.
An hour later, the aroma of fresh baked scones surrounded me. I had eaten one, and ambrosia paled in comparison.
Who knew flour and butter in a man's hands were so sexy and tasty?
Liam placed another tray of scones in the oven while I filled a basket with the cooled ones. A soft knock on the door and two men with Aloha Lagoon emblazoned on their T-shirts walked in. They exchanged a look with Liam, smiled at me, and then took the baskets.
"Do I have booty call written on my forehead?" I asked after they left.
"Come closer, and let me see," he said as he tossed a towel on the counter.
"Never mind. I'll take their reactions as a yes," I said as Liam pulled me in for a hug.
"Lady, what we did was the opening credits. The main event will take hours if not weeks to complete," he whispered in my ear.
I shivered and made a mental note to remember to shave every day.
The door swung open again, and Ellen stepped in.
"There you are. Good to see you two getting along and healing each other's broken hearts," Ellen said as I stepped away from Liam.
"You've been dumped by somebody?" I asked Liam, truly surprised.
<
br /> "Not since I was ten. She was eleven and a brutal mistress, demanding gifts and math answers. She cheated on tests and on me," Liam said, biting his lip and pretending to suck back tears.
"You poor dear," I said as I patted his back.
"I could be more pointed and say Simone didn't come home last night because she shagged my grandson," Ellen said as she helped herself to a scone.
My reputation was duly soiled, and she wouldn't believe I didn't get any last night. I did just snag a preview of some Liam lovin', but that was none of her business.
"Thank you for your kindness and discretion," I said as I offered her some strawberry jam.
Liam kneaded out more dough and kept his grins to himself.
"You're welcome. Now, have you ever hosted a catered event?" she asked me after she'd finished half the scone.
"No. Is that a strike against me?"
"I have my monthly tea scheduled at the café this afternoon, and my usual helper's son isn't well. She canceled, leaving me without an extra set of hands," Ellen said after brushing away the crumbs from her blouse.
"I'll help. Just point me in the right direction."
"You're a darling. Your job is mostly seating people, and you'll be paid, of course. The staff is glorious and superb at serving. Do pop back around my house at two for a quick change. That's if Liam can spare you for a few hours," Ellen said with a smile.
Both of us looked to gauge his reaction. Liam kept his head down and focused on his work. After filling another tray of scones, he rested his hands on the counter and met my glance.
"Gran, Simone owns her time. If she chooses to bestow it on me, I'm forever grateful," he said as he winked at me.
The hotel workers came back, and I hurried to fill the baskets. Ellen made small talk with them as she touched a shoulder or an arm. They smiled at her as they left.
Cougar, thy name was Ellen.
"Gran, seriously, they're younger than me," Liam said as the oven timer went off.
"Just having a bit of fun with them. There's no harm in it. Besides, I'm having dinner with Garrett, so don't wait up," she said as she left.
"That woman will be the death of me. Born and bred in the mining town of Grimethorpe, she found herself married into a wealthy aristocratic family. Never fit in either spot, and after my grandfather died, she announced she was moving to Kauai, sight unseen. She's been here seven years and never looked back," he said as he switched trays.
"Did you move here to help her?" I asked as I transferred the hot scones to the cooling racks.
"Do you think she needs help or a keeper? I was aimless and feeling sorry for myself. My mum called Gran and asked her to stage an intervention."
"She wept and begged you to come for a visit."
"Hiccups and wailing, followed by pleas of not to tell my father about her plight and fears. Garrett's not the only over-the-top actor on this island," Liam said as he started to clean up his work table.
"And you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker," I said as I collected up dirty dishes.
"Dragged in my own anchor too," he said as he took the dishes from me and set them by the sink.
"It's a very taut anchor," I said as I slapped his butt with a dish towel.
He smiled, locked the bakery door, and dropped his apron on the floor. My foreplay instructions included spatulas, plastic wrap, and softened butter.
Forget payment. I'll barter my services for his any time.
* * *
An hour later, I vaguely remembered my phone had been ringing when the police had come to tell me about Elliott. Had that been yesterday or last year? The relentless sunshine here messed with me. I must have been allergic to it or something because time slowed down.
Liam held my hand as we hiked to Ellen's house. He offered to buy me lunch too. Of course I said no, called him fresh, and slapped his face. Not. I rushed in to change as he lingered in the back doorway.
"Let me check my phone real quick," I said as I pulled it and the charger out of my purse.
It felt wrong in my hand because it wasn't my phone. It was Elliott's phone. I could tell by the smooth black case. Mine was black with raised polka dots.
"All the color just drained out of your face. What's wrong?" Liam asked.
I plugged in the charger, punched in the password, and the phone sprang to life. Seventeen missed calls, one hundred and two emails, and eighty-four texts were listed on the bottom.
"Popular girl," Liam said as he looked over my shoulder.
"This is Elliott's phone. He must have mixed them up when we were in the hotel's conference room," I said as I set it on the counter.
This was a record of his life. The calendar, contacts, and every move he'd made for the last two months. We had bought our phones together and set our passwords up to be the same four-digit number. The date we first met. So much love and promise and hope. I touched my chest as I choked up.
"This means your phone may have been in Elliott's possession when he died," Liam said.
Proof stating we were together and an additional piece of evidence for the police to use against me. I sank into a chair and rubbed my temples.
"Should I call the police?" I asked.
"Eventually. Let's have a look at the phone first," Liam said as he rummaged through the refrigerator.
He stacked produce on the counter and made us spinach salads for lunch.
"For now, leave the phone with me," he said as we started to eat.
Something told me Liam had other hidden talents. Surveillance or technical expertise or wizardry topped my list.
CHAPTER FOUR
By noon, Ellen had assessed my wardrobe and found it lacking. She made a few calls. In a half hour, a young woman arrived with some casual dresses, price tags attached. I gave Ellen a mini fashion show, and she decided on the sky-blue, cowl-necked, short-sleeved dress.
"I greet the women as they enter the café. The hostess will ask them if they have a reservation, and then she'll tell you where to seat them. The tables are numbered, so it couldn't be easier," Ellen said.
I had worked in public relations but kept the personal touch to a minimum. Emails, phone calls, and texts were my strong suits. Face-to-face, not so much, but I appreciated Ellen's faith in my abilities.
"Chin up and all that, Simone. This will be painless," Ellen said as she hugged me.
No problem. Something to keep my mind off death and police interrogations. I swam in shark infested waters every day—also known as the United States Congress. Lobbyists nipped at my heels, and the press chased me down the hall. Host a ladies-only tea? Piece of cake. Or scone.
I checked my teeth again for spinach bits and then followed Ellen to the Aloha Lagoon Resort. I was persona non grata, and there was no practical way to hide my red hair. This reminded me of junior high when someone had stolen caramel nut apples from the front office. I'd been framed, being the only girl the secretary could pick out of the crowd. Even then, red hair had meant guilty. As punishment, I'd had to sit out the Halloween dance. I'd been doomed until they'd called my mom.
Bel Ortiz-Ryan had shown up in her security guard uniform and started her own investigation. Exhibit A: I'd hated peanuts. I still did, and nothing about them was buttery. Liquefying them into a softer substance that resembled a bodily function made peanuts more disgusting. Exhibit B: my hands hadn't been sticky. I'd never been known for cleanliness. If I had eaten caramel, it would have been smeared on my hands and face and possibly in my hair. Exhibit C: I'd had braces at the time. Remnants would have coated both sets of the metal grommet torture device in my mouth.
My mother had proclaimed my innocence and stared down Dottie Benson and her mangy bunch of ghouls. The Goth girls had been confident until they'd felt my mother's withering stare. They'd cracked and spent the rest of second period accusing each other.
I'd hugged my mom and waved good-bye to her through the main door. I hadn't shown my triumph until I'd found Lizzie standing in the hall. Then I'd b
usted into a dance move and almost thrown out my pelvis. Twerking was for the physically able and contortion experts.
Ellen and I arrived at the hotel's kitchen entrance. One of the guys from that morning opened the door for us. Ellen did the whole giggly thing again. I waited until the show was over. Rachel Wein joined me and shook her head.
"She has a lot of nerve," she said.
I'd keep my cowardly tendency and settle for her grandson.
"Ellen's a pistol. I'm here as last minute help at the tea. I promise to be gone as soon as possible," I said.
"Relax, Miss Ryan. I feel bad about having to ask you to leave the resort. I overreacted. I'm sure this has been a horrible experience for you. Ellen called me about your being here today. A good word from her means a lot," she said as she handed me an envelope.
My hotel bill. I knew the credit card would bounce. At least I got kicked out before I was thrown out. I tucked it into my purse and feigned a smile.
"It's a gift certificate to our spa. If anyone needs a relaxing massage, it's you. Enjoy the tea," she said as she patted my shoulder and left.
I felt relieved, grateful, and even more innocent of all crimes. However, I didn't have much time to enjoy the glow as I watched the line forming outside the Loco Moco Café. All these women wanted a cup of tea and a scone? They were in Kauai surrounded by surf, sun, sand, sky, and a real ocean. Why would they stay inside for a nonalcoholic beverage? Great, now a few of them pointed at me.
Take a picture—it'll last longer.
"The non-natives await," Liam said from behind me.
I pivoted around and realized I was invisible to the women. The object of many desires wore a white T-shirt, black-and-white trunks, and flip-flops. He also hadn't shaved today. I had hormones raging from my toes to my split ends. Liam should be illegal because of the erotic ideas he put in my head and all points south.
"Good luck. It's only a couple of hours of nonstop smiling and serving. I'm going back to my house to deconstruct Elliott's phone," he said as he took my hand.
"Thank you. It may be the only evidence I have in my defense."
Deadly Bubbles in the Wine (Aloha Lagoon Mysteries Book 4) Page 6
