by Lux Miller
I motion with my head up at the looming volcanic crater, then glance over my shoulder at him. “Do you want to see it?”
Luca nods, his eyes shimmering like polished silver in the morning light. “I’d hoped we would, but I’m getting the sense that maybe you don’t want to?”
Shrugging, I push his arms away from my body enough so that I can turn and face him. “I never said that, but can we do it my way? The tours they offer are ridiculously expensive…” I put my index finger against his lips as I shake my head, “...I know that money’s not an issue to you, but hear me out.”
He nods, and I smile glancing back up at the hulking mass of rock. “If we take one of the tourist tours, we’re going to follow a guide straight up one side and down the other. They’ll spout off history that we can look up in a book, and we’ll stop to take an obligatory selfie at the crater, and maybe sneak in a few along the way.”
Luca nods slowly, like he’s not sure what the big deal is. I chuckle and pat his cheek. “You’ll understand when we get up there and run into the tour groups, why I have no desire to be part of one. Unless it’s something you really want to do, but I promise it’ll be way more interesting if you trust me to be your guide. I have a better hike in mind.”
Shrugging, Luca leans into me and kisses my forehead. “Emily, I trust you to be my guide on a lot more than just a tour of a national monument. Say the word, and we’ll go. Just don’t send me down the side of a mountain. This old body wouldn’t survive that kind of fall.”
I can’t help but giggle as I tease him. “You’re not that old, Luca.”
He shrugs and nods, his gaze turning serious. “While that’s true, the abuse it’s suffered at my own hands is more than any body can be expected to endure intact.”
Smiling, I pat his chest with both hands and stand up on my tiptoes to plant a wet kiss on his mouth. He smirks as I pull back and licks his lips. He grabs the mostly-empty coffee cup from me and examines the contents, then sets the cup down on the ground beside us. “Mmm...cheesecake. I’m beginning to see the appeal…”
He leans down over me and steals another kiss, demanding my full attention as he plunges his tongue into my mouth. He deepens it before my brain can process what’s happening, and it draws a throaty moan from my chest as I fling my arms around his neck. I feel myself lifted off the ground as Luca stands up straight, and I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind him.
Chuckling, he starts walking back up the path to the house as he kisses me, but I’m not about to let him ram me into something on accident. I shake my head and pull away from him, dropping my legs down. I slide down his body, until my feet land on the concrete.
Luca raises one eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have dropped you, Emily. And I wasn’t done with those tempting lips of yours.”
I stick my tongue out at him and motion over his shoulder toward the pink and orange streaks that’re reaching up into the sky from the murky darkness of the ocean. “Maybe we can do one of the crater hikes later on. There’s other trails too that are a little less touristy, but a bit harder on the knees. We’ll figure it out later, though. I think Kanaloa is screaming loud and clear what our plans need to be for this morning.”
Luca cocks his head to the side as he loops one arm possessively around my back. “I don’t know who that is, but okay.”
Laughing, I nudge him gently in the stomach with my elbow. “Kanaloa is the Hawaiian god of the ocean… and he’s calling me, calling us, to come play and pay our respects to him.”
Luca nods as we walk up the path toward the house. “And how do we do that?”
I grin, and my entire body shudders with the very thought of what I’m about to ask Luca to do. I inhale deeply, letting the sea air fill my lungs to capacity. I lean my head back and let the breeze whip over my face before opening my eyes slowly and looking at Luca again. “We surf…”
THREE
The sound of the morning breakers is deafening as Luca and I walk along the cool sand down Makalei Beach. When we reach the sea foam where the waves are reaching up onto the shore, I slip off my flip flops and kick them back up the beach behind us. I know that Luca’s watching me intently as I shimmy off the denim shorts that I wore over my bikini. His eyes widen as they slip free of my hips and puddle at my ankles.
“Damn… where’s the rest of it?”
I glance over my shoulder at him and shake my hair back out of my face, shrugging innocently. “The rest of what?”
Luca motions to my ass. “Your bikini… does that even qualify as bottoms? You have lingerie with more coverage than those!”
I grin and bounce one shoulder again as I watch his reaction. “It’s Hawai’i. Things work a little bit different here. These aren’t that bad… trust me, when we get to Hawai’i Island and you see the level of skimpy in the surfing suits there, you’re going to think I’m overdressed. Or if you’re not enjoying the view, you may be glad of it.”
Luca’s eyes immediately drop from my face to my ass, and he licks his lips slowly. “I’m not complaining about the view, but that doesn’t mean I want other men enjoying what’s mine.”
I walk back up the beach to Luca’s side and pat his bicep with a laugh. “Oh, like you prancing around out here in all your tattooed, dark and brooding glory? Baby, my bottoms might be a little cheeky, but your entire muscled torso is on full display, and I promise you, people are noticing. You are one sexy motherfucker, Luca.”
Luca is watching me with eagle eyes as I drop the surfboard I’ve been carrying onto the wet sand. I bend over in front of him and Velcro the leash around my ankle, knowing full well that his eyes are going to be focused on my butt cheeks as I do. I hear him groan behind me, and I assume that he’s going to make a wisecrack comment about my butt hanging out of the turquoise bottoms that ride super low on my hips, cutting across my body an inch from indecency.
But when I turn around, I’m surprised to see something completely unexpected. Luca rests the end of his surfboard against the sand and leans on it, a look of uncertainty on his face as he stares out at the morning swells. “Are you sure this is safe?”
I shrug and glance over my shoulder at him. “Nothing in this world is ever foolproof when it comes to safety. Guns misfire. Airbags fail. Parachutes get tangled. There’s always a chance that things that should otherwise be safe, can turn dangerous. You can swim, right?”
Luca nods as he attaches his own surfboard leash to his ankle. “Yeah, but… I’ve never actually been… out there.”
I nod in understanding. “I get that, but if you can swim, you’ll be fine. There are no obvious rip currents out there today. You can tell by the way the ocean sucks the water back out to sea. It’s going out even, so there are no strong rips at least. If the water was going out looking like a whirlpool, then I’d say it probably wasn’t safe to surf.”
Luca shakes his head. “It’s not rip currents that I’m worried about, really. I grew up on the coast. Believe it or not, even the swamp gets some wicked currents. It’s more the… openness of it all…”
I narrow my eyes at Luca and cock my head to the side. “Are you telling me that you’re afraid… of the ocean?”
Luca sighs heavily and nods. “It wasn’t always that way. Dante and I used to sneak down to Pontchartrain and go swimming, despite the posted warnings about alligators and currents. It’s brackish, you know… the lake. And it’s not really a lake, for that matter. It’s actually open to the gulf, but you wouldn’t get pulled out to sea just swimming near the shore like we did. But then Katrina struck, and…”
Now it makes sense, in a way I didn’t expect. Katrina was something else, but I didn’t experience it firsthand. By the time my father moved us back to the mainland after my mom’s death, Katrina had already roared ashore like the angry bitch she was, nearly obliterating New Orleans from the map. When we arrived, the city was still in shambles, while the local government fought against the federal government and every city along the Gulf Coast t
o which Katrina had laid waste. Everybody wanted the federal dollars to repair their infrastructure, but New Orleans had so many buildings that were literally wiped off the map, it almost became a ghost town. Some of those buildings are still abandoned.
To hear that Luca has reservations about the ocean after he likely weathered Katrina from within New Orleans makes sense. He’d have been around seventeen when Katrina reared her ugly head and rained wrath down on the city. By then, he’d have been a member of the mafia, trying to prove his worth to the family, but still a kid at heart. Then it dawns on me that he lost Mandy when he was sixteen, and I suddenly realize just how shitty of a year 2005 was for him.
I nod and offer Luca a small smile. “The reef is the reason for the swells, but it also keeps most of the currents at bay. Most surf spots are good because of sand bars which push the swells up and over the surface of the water, but here, the reef creates gorgeous waves without the worry of getting slammed into a sand bar or caught up in a rip current… if you can clear the reef, that is. I won’t be taking you out to the Graveyards or Sleepy Hollow, but I surfed both before I was ten. We didn’t come to O’ahu much when I was a kid, but when we did, this is where my friends and I came to surf. They sound scary, but once you have a feel for what you’re doing, they’re not as terrifying as they sound.”
He still looks unsure, so I motion to where the waves are washing up on the shore. “It’s low tide, Luca. There’s not going to be more ideal conditions to surf here, but if you’re not ready, do you mind if I ride a couple by myself?”
Luca motions to the water. “How about I watch you, then I’ll decide if I’m man enough to get out there with you…”
Chuckling, I nod, bending down to pick my borrowed board up into my arms. I trot out in the sea foam and drop my board on top of the knee-deep water, then climb onboard. The board dips into the foamy water as I get situated on top of it, then glance back at Luca. He gives me a thumbs-up as he leans on his board, watching me intently. I smile at him and turn back to the open sea, closing my eyes and murmuring a silent surfer’s prayer to Kanaloa.
As I open them, an easy smile spreads across my face, and I lean down over the board, settling on the sweet spot as I paddle out to the reef. I’m only paddling for a few minutes, but it feels like a lifetime of anticipation before I reach the reef. I sit up like a seal on my board, being careful to keep my body centered on the sweet spot, and I watch as the water bumps under my board. Glancing over my shoulder, I see that the wave that just passed me by begins to break about thirty yards behind me, and I grin when I see that it’s rolling. Kanaloa has answered.
The water here is so clear, that I can lean over the side of the board and see straight to the bottom. That’s not as big a feat as it sounds though, since the water’s probably only three or four feet deep here above the reef. If I jumped off my board, the water might hit my waist. I’m a couple hundred yards from the beach, which means there’s going to be some killer swells coming in off the open water. It also means that if I wipe out before I clear the reef, there’s going to be carnage to whatever body parts are unlucky enough to hit the living community of corals just below me.
I inhale sharply as I scan the surface of the water, looking for the telltale signs of a favorable wave. I drop my hand into the water and exhale slowly. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a board and even longer since I’ve been in the ocean. I spot my wave just as it peeks its head up above the surface. I inhale and exhale rapidly, nerves bubbling up inside of me. I use my right arm to turn my board away from the coming wave and roll my eyes up to the sky. I swallow hard as I feel my board shift toward the open sea. The wave is pulling me into its grasp.
Turning my gaze to the shore briefly, I cringe when I see how far out I am. I used to do this all the time as a kid, and I’m a good swimmer, but no amount of experience can stifle the jitters out of me at this point. I can see Luca standing on the shore. He must sense that I’m about to give it a go, because he locks his gaze on me, staring intently. Yeah, no pressure.
Just before my board can bottom out on the reef below, I push my hands into the water, one after the other, digging deep into the wave to propel myself forward. A quick glance tells me the wave is breaking left. Perfect. I’ve always preferred to ride leftie. I grab the rails of the board and shift my weight to the inside as I pull up onto my feet. Keeping my weight centered over the inside rail of the board, I lean into the wave and dip my hand into the green face of the wave.
I tip my back foot to the rear of the board, letting my weight settle there. I wobble slightly as the board stalls just ahead of the tiny barrel of the wave. I’m thankful that the peak isn’t skyhigh. I don’t want to try to outrun a barrel today. The only people who like to run the barrel are professionals, and right now, I’m barely a novice. It’s been sixteen years since I’ve surfed, and I’m not about to faceplant into a reef - especially not in front of my husband. I lean forward and shift my feet to the front of the board, exhaling with a startled yelp as I pick up speed and scoot down the front face of the wave, just ahead of the foam where it breaks.
I feel the wave peter out and drop down to my knees on the board before my lack of balance tosses me off. I continue to skirt along the early-morning reef breakers, glancing back to shore to keep an eye on Luca, but I reel myself in as the swells start to barrel-up. Which is just as well. The beach is starting to crowd up with locals who’ll be hitting the waves soon, and I know I’m not skilled enough to avoid dropping in on them by mistake. It’s time for me to call it a day.
As I reach the shore and the gentle waves push my board up onto the beach, I groan. I pull my legs up onto the board and sit there with my arms drooping. They feel like lead, and it’s abundantly clear to me that I’m horrifically out of shape if half an hour of surfing has me wanting to drag my arms like an ape. I glance up as a shadow falls over, and I’m relieved to see that it’s Luca and not some local ready to rib me.
“That was incredible, Em…”
I offer him a small, but genuine smile and nod. “Yeah… it was. But my arms feel like jelly now.”
He chuckles and plucks me off the board as it bobs along in the gentle sea foam. “Well, that was pretty damn impressive. I certainly couldn’t do it.”
I shrug, then wince as my arms scream in protest. “I used to surf every morning when I was a little girl.”
Luca sets me down on my feet and smiles. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you as carefree and happy as you were out there. Of course, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn me on to a great extent, too. To see you without the weight of the world on your shoulders. Truthfully, it makes me want to go get some more use out of that plush, King-sized bed, but I suspect you have other plans for us, today?”
I nod slowly and turn him around, pointing up at Diamond Head. “Yeah, I do… now that the ocean and I’ve had our morning chat, the mountain says it’s her turn…”
FOUR
Luca’s hesitation to go out into the ocean vaporizes the moment I mention the mountain. It’s like you flipped a switch on his back and now he’s gung-ho and raring to go. Good to know that while he’s uneasy about open water, he apparently has no fear of heights. Which is probably a good thing since we’re about to hike to the top of a tuff cone that’s been around for 300,000 years. It’s an easy hike most of the way up, but I don’t plan to follow along right behind the tour groups. As a kid, I hiked the trail so many times that I know of several incredible views that go missed if you blindly follow a tour guide. We’ll just have to make sure we aren’t seen leaving or returning to the trail since it’s technically illegal to forage in the park like I plan to do. But I think we should be okay. In all the times my grandfather, and then my own mother, took me off the beaten path, we were never caught.
It doesn’t take much persuasion to convince my husband to break the rules. In fact, I’d say it was almost too-easy for him to agree to what I’m asking as I walk along in front of him with my surfb
oard tucked under my arm. I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised since my husband is as infamous for his criminal activity as he is famous for being one of New Orleans’ wealthiest men. He walks a fine line between upstanding gentleman and hoodlum, and I love him all the more for it.
As we walk along the sand and back up to the house, I can feel Luca’s eyes all over my backside, despite the fact that I put my skimpy denim shorts back on before we left Leahi Beach. When I glance over my shoulder at him, he’s not even hiding the hunger that’s in his eyes as his gaze rakes over me. I’m certain he’s undressing me in his mind right now. We get back up to the house to find Mike sitting outside in a lounge chair with a clear view of the beach where I probably just embarrassed the hell out of myself, but if he’s thinking anything negative, he doesn’t mention it as he nods his head in our direction.
He starts to rise out of the chair, but I shake my head and rest my hand on his arm. “Stay. Enjoy yourself. We’re just going to go inside and freshen up, since it’s probably past breakfast time, or at least it probably will be by the time I’m able to escape Luca’s grabby hands. I thought we might grab some brunch at one of the local places and then head up to hike either the Diamond Head trail or Koko Crater.”
