Rolling in the Deep: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 2

by Cathryn Cade

  “Then I’m happy for you,” Claire said fiercely, squeezing her hand. What it must be like to have such bedrock assurance that she was loved like that.

  “Good, because you’re both going to be aunties,” Melia said, smiling through her tears. “And you too, Grace.”

  Grace smiled at her and reached over to lay her hand over Melia’s and Bella’s. “I’m very happy for you, my dear.”

  “This explains why you cry over everything,” Claire realized. “Hormones.” They all laughed.

  The rest of their lunch was calmer, unaccompanied by any more revelations, until Melia looked at the clock on her phone. “Oh, my gosh, the afternoon is flying by. Are you ready to go? David should be picking Mom and Dad up from the airport in an hour. They’re meeting us up at the house. I want to show you David’s—our house before they get there, and give my parents time to relax before the luau.”

  Back at the hotel, Claire slipped on the new dress and shell jewelry and let Bella, slender and lovely in a cocoa silk shift, curl her hair.

  “It won’t last,” she warned, sitting on the toilet while Bella carefully wound a long blonde lock around the hot curling iron.

  “Yes, it will,” Bella promised, shaking back her own glossy waves. “I brought styling products.”

  Claire made a face at Melia, watching from the bathroom doorway. “Miss Curlylocks. Your hair looks fabulous, even in this humidity.”

  “I love your hair,” Melia said loyally. “It’s so silky, and it’s a prettier color than mine.”

  “Bet David doesn’t think so.” Claire grinned as her friend blushed.

  Bella fussed and finger-tousled and sprayed, and when Claire looked at herself in the full-length mirror, she blinked. She looked…different. Like the chic young women she saw around downtown Portland. The dress emphasized her breasts and the strong, graceful line of her arms and shoulders, then clung to her small waist and full hips, ending well above her knees. Her hair hung in tousled blonde curls, framing her face. She frowned at herself, leaning toward the mirror.

  “Do you think I should put on some eye makeup?”

  “Yes,” her friends chorused immediately. She turned her frowning gaze on them.

  “You have such pretty eyes,” Melia added. “You need to play them up more.”

  She directed Claire to carefully line her upper and lower lids with a pencil, then smooth on a hint of taupe shadow. Claire stood back and looked at her reflection. The eye makeup really did emphasize her eyes, made them somehow smoky and even a little mysterious. She smirked at her reflection. She didn’t think of herself as real mysterious. All up front and out in the open, that was her.

  Grace gave the final boost to her ego. As the three emerged into the sitting room, her eyes widened. “Claire, is that you?”

  Claire set her hands on her hips. “Do I usually look that bad?”

  “No,” Grace said. “Now you’re simply making the most of your looks.”

  Melia and Bella nodded. Bella opened her mouth, and Melia elbowed her.

  Claire rolled her eyes at them. “All right, all right. I get it—I’ll fluff up more often. Thank you all for the makeover. Now let’s go luau.”

  She picked up her purse from the bed, and Bella hurried to do the same.

  “Bring a light wrap,” Melia called after them. “It’s cooler up on the mountain, especially when the sun goes down.”

  Claire stood at the railing of David and Melia’s huge deck and looked out over the mountainside below, the verdant green of pasture and treetops punctuated sharply with the long black stream of a recent lava flow clear down to the sea, which stretched to the horizon, a sheet of majestic silver.

  “Would you want to live up here?” Bella asked quietly.

  Claire shook her head. “No, it’s beautiful, but I like Nawea Bay, right on the water.”

  “I’d have a house in the forest,” Bella whispered dreamily. “With the green all around and the smells of the earth and the flowers. Birds calling and the wind through the treetops.”

  Claire nodded. Her friend’s apartment looked like a garden shop, it was so full of plants. Then she sighed. “Listen to us, like we’re ever going to get to live here.”

  Grace turned from admiring the view to the west. “You never know where life will take you, girls.”

  Bella slipped her arm through her mother’s. The two shared a look that Claire noted with interest. Something was going on, something to do with the Big Island or at least the people here. But until Bella chose to share, it was none of her business.

  Claire turned and leaned on the railing, looking back into the spacious, open house with sunlight pouring into every room and gorgeous paintings on the sand-hued walls. She eyed the leather furniture with sheer lust. “What a house. Wow.”

  Bella turned as well, nodding. “Wow is right.”

  They heard a babble of voices, among them David’s deep voice and Melia’s higher-pitched welcome. In a moment, Melia appeared in the living room, her arm around a woman with short blonde hair and a tearful smile that matched her daughter’s. Behind them came Melia’s father, a stocky man with freckles and green eyes under his shock of graying blond hair.

  “Oh, and here are the girls.” As the group emerged onto the deck, Melia’s mother reached out to hug first Bella and then Claire. “And, Grace—oh, how lovely to see you.”

  “Hi, Darcy. Hi, John.” Claire greeted them fondly.

  Melia’s father held her at arm’s length and grinned at her. “The tropics agree with you, Ms. Claire.”

  “I must say they do,” Darcy Carson said, looking from her to Bella and then back to her daughter. “The three of you—oh my. So grown up and beautiful.”

  “Yes, they are,” Grace agreed mistily.

  “This one’s always been beautiful,” John Carson said, capturing his daughter in a hug. “She had my freckles to build on, didn’t she?”

  “You always told me I’d find a man who loved my freckles, Daddy, and I did.” Melia smiled over his shoulder as her fiancé appeared, a tray of drinks in his hands.

  David smiled back at her as he stepped out onto the deck, and Claire blinked. Double wow. The ladies might be dressed up and looking fine, but David Ho’omalu was as spectacular as his house and the view. And he radiated the laid-back “aloha spirit”. It was impossible not to return that flashing white smile.

  “Ladies, John,” he said. “Have a tropical margarita. Specialty of the house.”

  Darcy accepted one of the frosty, salt-rimmed glasses and admired the red blossom perched on the rim of the coral-hued drink.

  “Hibiscus. Our state flower,” David said.

  “Oh, the hors d’oeuvres!” Melia disappeared into the house. Claire had done no more than take a sip of her sweet, frothy drink when her friend returned bearing a large tray of pink chunks, as well as baskets of other foods.

  “Wow, what’s all this?” Claire asked, suddenly realizing she was hungry, even though they’d lunched only a few hours ago.

  “Ahi poké,” Melia said proudly. “Made with my own recipe. Marinated in tamari and fresh herbs, with pineapple salsa on the side. This is wasabi, if you want something hot, and crackers. Cheese or veggies, if you don’t want the ahi.”

  Claire accepted a tiny plate, and carefully chose a few succulent bits of fresh ahi tuna sprinkled with green onions and other herbs. Sitting at the table, she used a long toothpick to pick up one of the chunks. Raw tuna hadn’t looked that appetizing last night at the restaurant, but she couldn’t hurt Melia’s feelings by refusing to try a recipe of which she was so proud. She grinned at her friend. “Been eating fish all my life, but this is the first raw.”

  The others watched as she put the fish in her mouth and chewed gingerly. The flavor exploded across her taste buds, salty and tangy, the rich, buttery texture melting on her tongue. “Mm-mmm,” she moaned, her eyes closing.

  And that was how Daniel saw her as he let himself into his brother’s home and crossed the li
ving room to the open french doors.

  There she sat, her long legs crossed, wearing a halter dress that displayed her full breasts, her head thrown back in an expression so near ecstasy that he stopped dead in the doorway, riveted. She’d done something to her hair so that it was a tousled mass around her face, and when she opened her eyes, outlined in some wickedly sexy shadow, her slumberous blue gaze punched him square in the gut.

  “I think I just found a new addiction,” she said and licked her full lower lip.

  He closed his eyes, shutting out that come-hither look. Kanaloa, why did she have to use that word? Made him want to feed her bites of poké and then take a few good bites out of her. What the hell was it with this wahine? Even in his twenties, when he’d been raring to go all the time, he didn’t recall wanting one woman this badly.

  He wanted her to want him just as desperately, wanted to make her plead…for what, he didn’t know, just that he wanted to hear that husky voice of hers begging him for whatever he wanted to give her. Piston-hard, fast and raunchy, with just enough time in between to catch their breath and plan the next round.

  Yeah, and she’d run screaming to her friends, and he’d be in deep po’ino.

  “Hey, you’re here, brah.” David broke into his savage thoughts, sliding an arm around his shoulders to pull him forward into the group. “Just in time to meet Melia’s folks and try her new recipe.”

  Daniel walked by Claire, who tossed her head, her cheeks flushed. He shook hands with Melia’s parents and Grace, kissed Melia on the cheek, and took the plate of poké she proffered. His favorite food—so why did it look about as interesting as a plate of poi?

  “Thanks,” he said. “Looks ono—really great.”

  His little brother shot him a look from under his sable brows. As Daniel gazed impassively back, David looked from him to Claire, and his lips twitched, his eyes twinkling with devilment. Daniel returned the look with a glare that would have sent a lesser man stumbling backward, gibbering apologies.

  David merely chuckled. “Have a drink, brah. We made margaritas.”

  “I’ll get myself a beer,” Daniel said and shoved a bite of poké into his mouth. Pele, David knew him too well.

  He realized Melia was watching him too. He swallowed. “Brok da mouf,” he said, spearing another bite of the succulent fish.

  She smiled with radiant pleasure at the island compliment. He chewed with more enthusiasm. The fish really was delicious, seasoned just enough to enhance the flavor. And as usual, he was hungry. Took a lot of food to fuel his physique.

  “It is delicious,” Melia’s mother said, sounding surprised. “I didn’t think I’d like it.”

  “Wait ’til you try the Ho’omalus’ kalua pork,” Melia said.

  David began to explain how the traditional imu worked. Melia’s parents watched him with bemused fascination. Couldn’t blame them for feeling a little surf-tumbled—David and Melia had known each other for only a month, and here they were, getting married. Daniel had been leery himself until he spent time with the two of them and realized that they were two halves of a whole. With a dividend on the way. Come the new year, he’d be an uncle.

  Daniel headed back to David’s huge kitchen to get himself a bottle of Kona beer from the refrigerator, taking his time as he opened it and took the first drink. It was cool and shady in the house, the mountainside air temperate on this sunny afternoon.

  After a few swallows, he headed back out onto the lanai. He met Melia and her parents in the living room, admiring one of David’s paintings. He knew she would show them his work as well, but he hated hanging around while people commented on his stuff. He preferred to let his mother do the talking, or his cousin Lalei at the gallery in Honolulu.

  He detoured around them to the lanai and a chair on the far side of the table from Claire. He could make it through this evening. Just concentrate on what he could have, not what he couldn’t. David and Melia were right together, but he would never follow in their footsteps. The only wahine he’d found who matched his sexual appetites was Kahni, and he sure as hell wouldn’t bring her home to his family as a bride.

  “You ladies enjoying your visit so far?” he asked.

  “Lovely, just lovely,” Grace murmured, gazing out at the sea.

  “So far all we’ve done is eat and shop,” Claire told him. “I’m looking forward to staying at your family’s guesthouse. Where is it from here?”

  “Nawea Bay,” he answered, leaning back in his chair. “South of Kona along the coast. You can drive out, but it’s quicker by boat.” Until last month, there had been access only by boat, but David was worried about Melia and the baby—wanted to be able to get back to town even in a storm—so the family had had a paved road put in, with a locked gate up by the highway.

  Her eyes lit up. “Really? Is it wild? Do you camp out?”

  She actually liked that idea?

  “Who’s going camping?” Grace asked, turning back to them.

  “We won’t be camping at Nawea,” he said, politely ignoring the older woman’s distraction. “It’s a private bay with a dock and a house with several bedrooms. It’s run by the Leluas, Frank and Leilani. Frank has a dive boat and brings his overnight customers there.”

  Claire leaned forward, her curls sliding forward over her bare shoulders. One blonde lock trailed onto her collarbone, sliding toward her cleavage. He watched its slow progress. “Do you think we’ll be able to dive?”

  “You dive?” He pictured her with a weight belt strapped on over a bikini—or maybe over nothing but her silky skin.

  “I have. Never anywhere like this. Will there be sea turtles?”

  He groaned inwardly. Damn, she liked diving and honu. Why couldn’t she just be a party girl with shopping and tanning on her mind?

  “Yeah, there are always a few hanging around Nawea,” he drawled. “Along with the manō.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Right. I looked that up. Statistically, visitors are very unlikely to see a shark when swimming or diving here.”

  He couldn’t resist. “Unless I ask Kanaloa to summon one.”

  “Well, ask him to summon some dolphins, while you’re at it. I’d much rather see them.”

  He stared at her, picturing the look on her face if she discovered he could do it. Yeah, he’d like to make her eat her words, along with certain parts of him. Kneeling at his feet would do it, while she showed her admiration with that lush mouth. She wouldn’t have to say a word.

  He shifted to ease his burgeoning erection, thanking Kanaloa that his loose shirt covered his groin, and tipped back his bottle of beer, draining it. The cool, prickly liquid did nothing to ease the heat burning inside him. Fortunately for him, when the sushi and crackers were gone, it was time to move on, up the hill to his parents’ home. Good, there would be a big crowd of Ho’omalus and guests, and he could stay busy and occupied and far, far away from a particular bridesmaid.

  Chapter Six

  Claire stood with Bella on the Ho’omalus’ huge back lawn, gazing at the groups of people eddying among the flowering shrubs and seating arrangements. Many of them were Hawaiian, with dusky hair and golden skin, but just as many were Caucasian, Asian, or of blended heritage.

  David and Melia held court with their parents on the lanai, greeting arrivals. A trio of little girls beside them handed out leis. The guests then proceeded to the open-air bar and onto the lawn, set with small tables and chairs.

  There were flowers everywhere, their heady fragrance filling the evening air. Only one area overlooking the hillside stood bare, surrounded by a frame of short palms and other shrubs. Beyond soared the evening sky, slowly fading into lavender and mauve.

  And far below waited the silvery sea, calling to Claire to follow the path that led out across the lawn, through the gardens, through a gate in the low stone wall and down the open hillside beyond. Soon she’d be able to laze on the beach and swim in those waters.

  “Can you believe all these people are related
?” Bella asked in a voice of hushed awe.

  “Nope.” Claire’s family all lived near one another, but they certainly never assembled a crowd like this one.

  “Not all relatives,” said a cheerful voice at Bella’s shoulder. Claire turned to see a tall, slender Hawaiian youth with a familiar flashing smile standing there. His coffee-brown hair was cut to fall about his face in feathery waves, and he wore a flowered shirt so bright Claire wanted to squint.

  “Hi, I’m Zane Ho’omalu. Cousin of the groom. And I get to walk one of you lucky ladies up the aisle tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I hope it’s me,” they both said at once in exaggerated awe.

  His smile widened comically. “I have that effect on all the wahines. So, you must be Bella and Claire.”

  Bella nodded. “How many of these people are related to David, Daniel and you?”

  He looked around. “Mmm, about half, I guess.”

  Claire followed his gaze and then wished she hadn’t. Daniel stood just outside the shadows of the lanai, the sun glinting off his black hair as if off a bird’s wing. His broad back was turned, but she knew those shoulders and that club of braids.

  A woman stood laughing up into his face. She was tall and as golden skinned as he, her long, streaked hair spilling over her broad, bare shoulders and down over her plump curves, which were squeezed into a short dress flowered with huge purple hibiscus.

  Claire knew without conceit that she was at least as attractive as the other woman—for what good it did her. But she refused to believe this powerful attraction was one-sided. It couldn’t be…or she would spontaneously combust from sheer frustration.

  Bella elbowed her, and Claire turned to find her two companions watching her with quizzical gazes. “You want a drink?” Zane repeated.

  She summoned a smile. “Sure. And then I want to meet some more of your family and friends.”

  “Okay. Jason Mamaloa is here,” he said reverently.

  “Who? Oh, the musician.” The one who was going to sing at the wedding.

  “Just one of Hawaii’s greatest musicians ever,” Zane said, clearly horrified. “He’s da kine. There he is over there by the bar, in the gray shirt.”