‘It must have been hard for your dad to witness.’
‘It was.’ He didn’t stop cooking as he spoke and she was happy to listen, even though her heart ached for him. ‘He called me the day after the funeral, begging my forgiveness, told me he was getting help, that he was sorting himself out and that he wanted to be a better father.’
‘It’s sad that it took his friend passing away for him to come to you like that.’
‘It was hard to accept at the time, but then I wasn’t sure I believed him either. It took months to convince me he wasn’t just saying it all, that it wasn’t some brief remorse born out of grief for his friend and that he’d fall off the wagon again soon enough.’
‘But he did it, he got through it?’
‘Yes.’ He filled the kettle with water and tapped it on, his eyes finding hers. ‘I guess I’m more relieved than angry now. Relieved that I don’t have to fear him going back to those days.’
She wanted to cross the kitchen, wrap her arms around him, it didn’t matter that he wasn’t that boy anymore. He was still inside him somewhere, his haunted blue gaze told her as much…
She gave him a small smile instead, and loaded it up with the emotion she could feel swirling inside of her. She wondered what he’d been like back then, had he worn his hair long or short, had his eyes been as blue, his brow as arched, as defined? She’d bet he’d had the same soul-winning grin, the same flash of confidence that would win over the old as much as the young. And as for how he’d spent his days… her heart ached for him as she appreciated how it had made him the man he was today.
‘You were a pretty amazing kid.’
He gave a soft laugh. ‘Not sure the authorities would have agreed with you. I had my moments.’
‘Understandably.’
He moved the bowls across to the cooker and slowly started adding things to the pan.
‘My father was a great cook,’ she said, wanting to share too. ‘And my brother…’
She surprised herself by adding the last, the gruffness to her voice betraying the depth of feeling the memory evoked. She rarely talked about Koa, the pain was always too much to bear, but it felt different with Todd. She felt like she needed to share, just as he had done with her.
‘They used to spend Sundays in the kitchen together while Mum and I surfed.’
‘Your mum didn’t cook?’ he asked, looking to her over his shoulder.
She laughed. ‘Not unless you count beans on toast as cooking.’
She could feel his grin, even though she couldn’t see his face now. His shoulders had eased, his movements smooth and skilled once more.
‘And I’m ashamed to say I don’t fare much better in the kitchen. There’s something about pans and me that don’t mix. I mean, have you ever tasted, let alone cleaned, burned scrambled eggs from the base of a saucepan?’ She shuddered over the memory that was as recent as last week. ‘It’s vile and virtually impossible to get off.’
He laughed. ‘I can imagine.’
They fell into an easy silence and she lost herself in watching him again, the muscles of his back rippling beneath his shirt as he tossed ingredients into the pan. The oil sizzled and popped and her mouth turned dry, her legs crossing tight over one another. Definitely not hungry for food… no matter how delicious the scent.
She tugged her dress lower. She’d opted for a simple vest style, brightly coloured and comfortable. Not overtly sexy. Yet every time he looked at her, she felt like she was in her finest lingerie, the blaze of his eyes marrying with the pulsing heat in her core. His power over her was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
Perhaps it was just the whole forbidden thing, the fact she’d told herself she couldn’t have him…
But then hadn’t she agreed to forget about that for today, for tonight even?
She didn’t know whether to be more scared or relieved. Could she really see herself going there with him and coming away with no regrets? Did she really think she’d be able to walk away from him and let everything return to normal, like it never even happened?
No. That was the truth of it. She couldn’t. And where did that leave them now? This evening?
Stop overthinking everything, Malie.
She threw back the rest of her wine and wished away her sensibilities, her rising panic.
‘Can I help at all?’ She slid off the stool and walked around the island towards him; she couldn’t think when he was near and she wanted her thoughts gone.
He sent her a brief look, his grin teasing. ‘After what you just confessed to?’
She laughed, ‘OK, but there must be something I can’t burn?’
The kettle clicked off and he gestured to it. ‘You can pour the boiled water over the noodles.’
She swept around him, her fingers brushing his lower back as she reached for the kettle and poured. ‘Enough?’
‘Perfect.’
She slotted the kettle back on its base, her fingers still resting on his back and didn’t move away, his nearness having the desired effect of emptying out her mind.
She looked into the pan, smelled the aroma tangled up in the scent of him. ‘Mmm, smells great.’
He turned his head towards her and their eyes locked, she parted her lips, looked at the proximity of his and knew what she wanted. ‘Todd?’
He spun, pulling her up tight against him, his lips claiming hers in a kiss as demanding, as desperate as she felt inside. It was everything she’d craved from the second she’d spied him on the beach that day and there was no putting the brakes on now. No audience to interrupt or be wary of, he’d already told her everyone had been dismissed.
He walked her back into the island, the air filled with the smell of food, the sizzle of it cooking, but they were in their own world. He forked his hands through her hair, encouraged her head back as he sought to explore deeper, and she couldn’t breathe. She pulled away to try and drag in air and he dipped to her neck, to the sensitive pulse point behind her ear. It was getting out of control and fast and there would be no turning back, there couldn’t be…
‘Malie…’ it was a groan, ‘what are you doing to me?’
He pinned his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her jaw as he stared down into her eyes. There was so much passion, so much emotion in his darkened gaze.
‘I could ask you the same.’ And this is why you can’t go there; you’d never be able to come back from it… you wouldn’t…
She caught the smell of burning in the air, the rational thought her sudden saviour. ‘But I think you’re about to experience my scrambled egg problem.’
He tensed, cursing under his breath as he flew to the hob and lifted the smoking pan off the heat. She was grateful for the diversion, grateful for the sudden slap of clarity. She couldn’t sleep with him. Kissing him was one thing, taking the next step… no, just no.
She pressed her fingers to her buzzing lips and wrapped her other arm around her middle, fighting back the ache. She’d never turned down a guy she wanted before. Never had she needed to.
But Todd wasn’t just a guy she wanted. He was a guy she wanted so much more from and could never have. They were practically on different stratospheres, not to mention the other reasons she never went down the relationship route. Never settled. Never got comfortable. Because that’s when life would bite you on the backside. Cripple you when you least expected it… no, just no.
So much for a day’s bravado, of being able to let go.
‘All saved.’ He tossed the pan and sent her a relieved grin. ‘Do you want to grab the prawns from the fridge?’
‘Sure.’ She practically leaped at the fridge, opening the door and contemplating whether she could fit herself in there, just to chill down. She opted for taking a prolonged look through the shelves instead, moving away when she decided her nipples were suffering from the cold and not the prolonged effects of their kiss.
‘I thought you were about to climb in there for a second.’
She clo
sed the door and gave a nervous laugh. ‘As if…’
As if indeed…
She gave him the prawns and turned to get the wine bottle. ‘Can I top you up?’
He gestured to his glass, ‘Please…’ and threw the prawns into the wok, tossing the contents with the skill of a trained chef.
She poured wine into both glasses. ‘Can I lay the table?’
She needed to keep busy, anything to prevent a repeat of seconds ago, or worse, a panicked escape that would make her look like she was crazy.
‘It’s all ready. I thought we’d eat outside if that’s OK?’
‘Of course.’
Fresh air would do her good. She took up her wine and savoured the chill of it running down her throat, acknowledging even as she did that maybe more wine wasn’t such a great idea. Distance would be better.
She walked across the room, her gold leather sandals slapping against the marble floor and ringing too loud for her strung-out nerves. She slid open the large glass doors that led out onto the elevated stone veranda and stepped out, taking in the beauty of the view and using it to soothe her.
‘It’s incredible up here,’ she called back.
‘The view sold it to Grace, my PA.’
His PA, of course. He wouldn’t have the time to hunt down places to stay for his business travels. And she already knew he never took a holiday.
She walked to the edge to take in its full glory. In the distance, either side, lofty green mountains punctuated the water, creating the stunning cove within which the house rested. Ahead the moon rippled through the water, illuminating the white sand of the beach that you could catch glimpses of through the swaying palms and the flora.
Down to her left was the pergola under which the cocktail party had been held, to her right was a long wooden table which he’d laid out for two, arranging it so that they could sit beside one another. He’d even adorned it with several lanterns that looked similar to those from the cocktail party, their flickering glow augmenting the accented lighting cleverly recessed in the ground and on the walls of the house.
Beyond the table there were sweeping stone steps that led down to a sprawling manicured garden with luxury cabanas and a curved infinity pool which glowed turquoise, the lava-rock waterfall feeding it filling the air with the sound of water and making her wish she could dive straight in.
It was a house that oozed luxury and an insight into another world, a world that the likes of Zoe would be accustomed to, but not Malie, a surfer chick on the wrong side of the tracks – or cove, as the case may be for her.
It emphasized the gulf between her and Todd, making it bigger, ever more insurmountable.
‘I hope you’re hungry.’
She practically jumped as she turned at the sound of his voice to see him placing two steaming plates down on the table.
‘I’ll just go get the bottle, take a seat.’
She took a breath, tried to calm her nerves that seemed to be fraying at the edges.
She didn’t want to hurt him by putting distance between them. Not today.
But how did she tell him she couldn’t keep up the pretence she’d promised?
That even a day, it turned out, was too much.
Chapter Eleven
‘MMM, THIS IS DELICIOUS.’ She covered her mouth with her hand as she said it and her eyes sparkled with appreciation as she looked to him.
‘I’m glad you like it. It’s good to know I haven’t lost the knack.’
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cooked a proper meal, let alone cooked a meal for someone else, and not just anyone…
He wanted to impress her, show her he was more than just the business owner, the charity owner, and her client effectively. Not that he understood why it was important to him. It just was.
It didn’t change the fact that tomorrow they would go back to how things were, the line firmly drawn in the sand. Unless… could they extend it? Mid-kiss he’d thought about it. Been convinced even that they could do just that – the next few weeks flashed through his mind, such blissful imagery with a sprinkling of work and charity commitments that he wouldn’t dare drop.
But now… he didn’t know. Something was wrong.
She hadn’t said as much, but he could sense a definite shift in the atmosphere and couldn’t work out why.
Gone was the Malie who had readily stroked his back as she’d helped out in the kitchen, the Malie who had talked about her family and joked about her lack of culinary skill, and the Malie who had returned his kisses the way she had.
It had gone from zero to one hundred in a flash. He’d forgotten all about the food cooking and his good intentions to take the evening slowly, he’d been so caught up in her and the fact that she’d reciprocated. Every urgent movement of her mouth against his, her fingers over his shirt, in his hair, neither coming up for air, proved as much.
But when he’d turned away and rescued dinner, the woman he’d looked back to hadn’t been the same. A shutter had come down and it was still in place now.
Plus, she was jumpy, on edge, the slightest brush of their fingers and she was snapping her hand away, her eye contact brief, making him want to keep talking just to bring her attention back to him.
‘What food did your father like to cook?’
‘All sorts,’ she said, looking at her plate and twirling the noodles around her fork. ‘He was from here so lots of traditional Hawaiian dishes, poke and rice was a fave, but then he’s just as great at a Sunday roast – his lamb is to die for.’
Her smile was bittersweet, and he could catch the sudden thickness to her voice. He didn’t want to make her sad, but he did want her to open up to him. To understand her better.
‘It’s been a long time since I’ve had a Sunday roast. How are his Yorkshires?’
She pinched her thumb and index fingers together. ‘The best.’
‘It’s a shame he didn’t pass his skills on to you, then.’
She gave a soft laugh and scooped the food into her mouth, her eyes still distant but more relaxed now. She shook her head as she chewed and swallowed it down. ‘That was definitely Koa’s territory, he had the patience for it, whereas I just wanted to tear it up and throw it together. I’d drive Dad crazy and the kitchen would become a war zone, hence why Mum started taking me out of the house, leaving the men to enjoy it in peace.’
‘Were you not envious of your brother for having that time with him?’
‘Nah, it was best for everyone’s sanity. And we always ended Sunday with a family surf so long as the weather wasn’t too horrendous – in fact, we’d start and end most days in the sea when we could.’ That bittersweet smile was back and then she gave a little laugh at whatever memory she was reliving. ‘We used to have competitions too.’
She looked across at him and his throat closed over. Her eyes glistened with emotion; her beauty magnified all the more by her sorrow.
‘Competitions?’
‘Yeah, we’d race down to the water, all four of us, grab our little notepads and pretend to have our own surf comp, we’d do the whole panel thing, scoring each other up, announcing an overall winner.’
He smiled. ‘What was the prize?’
She gave a little shrug. ‘Anything from the last helping of pudding to getting out of washing up for the week.’
He held her gaze, trapped in the swirling pools of green. ‘You miss them?’
‘The competitions?’ she teased and then her eyes were serious again. ‘More than I want to admit.’
She looked back to her bowl, but he could tell she wasn’t really seeing it. ‘I miss how it was before… I miss the people they were, the people we all were, the times we had before Koa left us.’ She lifted her gaze to the ocean. ‘I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to have anything close to what we had before we lost him.’
He wanted to reach for her. Pull her into him. Ease her pain. But he wasn’t sure she’d welcome it, not after the change in her. He took up his wine instead, ke
eping his fingers busy to resist the urge.
‘You should talk to them. I know you said you’ve tried, but having seen you out there, on the waves, it’s a part of you. Asking you to give it up would be like telling you not to breathe.’
She gave him a sad smile. ‘You say that even though it’s dangerous?’
He laughed softly. ‘I can see why they’d prefer you took up knitting, or something else equally safe.’
‘I’m not sure about that – you haven’t seen me with a knitting needle.’
He laughed with her now, happy that she was still able to joke.
‘They loved to surf once too, maybe you just need to remind them of that?’
She shook her head, her smile disappearing. ‘It was as much a part of them and they still gave it up. When Koa found out that they’d quit, he was so upset and he told them as much, but he was tired, and they just wouldn’t listen.’
‘Maybe it’s time you tried again? Remind them that Koa would want them to surf too?’
She gave a gentle scoff. ‘My gran tried a few years back and it totally ruined Christmas.’
‘Your gran?’
‘My mum’s mum. But it just became a slanging match, them declaring me selfish, inconsiderate, insensitive – you name it, that was me – and I just shouted back, but I couldn’t find the courage to say what I really thought, that they were cowards, living in fear and insisting I do the same. That… that Koa dying didn’t mean we all had to stop living. I just couldn’t bring myself to say it.’ She shook her head, her fingers trembling as she raised them to her lips. ‘Suffice it to say it didn’t end well… I try to see Gran on her own when I go back, but she’s still torn between interfering for my parents’ sake and trying not to push me away.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s hard.’
‘That’s families all over.’
She took up her wine glass and saluted him with it. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
He sipped at it his own, his eyes shifting to the view as he considered all that she had told him and trying to think of a way to help, some advice to give, but then what did he know about fixing family relationships; he couldn’t even repair his own with his father.
Meet Me in Hawaii Page 14
