Impossible Love: An Unforeseen Destiny Novel Book One

by Kimberly Readnour

  Busted.

  I break eye contact and try not to look at Kayla for the rest of the tour.

  ***

  The familiar shitty fence comes to view as the van drops us off at headquarters.

  “Just leave the bags on the picnic table,” I say as they unload. Tom slips a ten-dollar bill into my hand, followed by the adventurous couple handing over a five. The perv walks by without acknowledging my presence. Tightass. I break away to review the itinerary one last time to hand it back to McKenna.

  “Everything go okay?” McKenna asks at my approach.

  “Yep, you know it.” I half-grin and turn away to rinse off everyone’s dry bags and lunch totes.

  “Kai.” I hear as I reach for the hose.

  “Here, take this. We really enjoyed the tour,” Cara says, her hand extended.

  “Thanks, ma’am.” I drop the hose and reach for the twenty-dollar bill in her hand, taken aback by the generosity. My gaze shifts sideways, connecting with Kayla’s. The connection lingers for a long moment as my breathing quickens. “It was my pleasure.”

  Kayla remains still, an innocent flush to her cheeks. So not my type, but yet something about this girl’s shyness makes me crazy.

  “Well…” Cara says, breaking our trance. “We better let you finish.”

  “Thanks again.” I nod to Cara, and the raised eyebrow as she glances between Kayla and me makes my pulse race.

  Shit, she caught me eyeing her daughter, or whatever the fuck I was doing. Again. God, I hope she’s not so pissed that she’ll report me. I offer a meager smile as they turn and walk to their car. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath before turning to grab the hose and scrub brush. Whatever strange encounter that was, it’s over now. Kayla will be nothing but a long distant memory.

  Chapter Nine

  Kayla~

  Click.

  The shutter on Mom’s camera opens and shuts beside my ear, trumping the crowd’s low murmurs. Their presence is easy to ignore while I’m staring at Waimea Canyon’s natural beauty. I take a deep breath and soak in the sights. I thought the Waimea River we saw yesterday would be the prettiest site of the island, but this view tops the awesome factor.

  “Perfect. I’ll get this framed for you,” Mom says, looking at the playback screen. “Here, take a peek.”

  Curious, I reach for the camera. I bring up the display screen, and my eyes widen at the award-worthy photo. She’s captured the essence of the canyon perfectly. The chiseled section of rugged rocks frames the mountain beyond the gorge. Mom couldn’t have picked a better location for this picture.

  “You nailed it,” I say, still studying the photo. “I like how the greenery appears like moss in the chasm.”

  “Yeah, and the trees look like green cotton balls, marching beyond the distance of the massive crag.”

  I nod. Waimea Canyon is one stop along the way to Kalalau Lookout, the highest point reachable by car on Mount Wai‘ale‘ale.

  Mom shivers and wraps her jacket tighter. The significant drop in temperature makes me glad I wore my tan hiking pants instead of shorts. My form-fitted T-shirt may not be warm, but I can withstand the cooler temps better than Mom.

  “Are you ready to view the Na Pali coastline?” the tour guide Lea asks.

  “Yes,” I mumble, even though I want to admire the canyon one last time. It’s remarkable. With an earlier stop at a coffee plantation, a swinging bridge, and one other cool lookout spot along the way, this tour is shaping up to be the best. Plus, there are still a few sights to check out.

  “When we’re done at Kalalau Lookout, we’ll break for lunch at a restaurant nearby. The food is really good,” Lea says once we start winding up the mountain road. “Then, we’ll go to a local beach called Gilli’s Beach. Be prepared, the road is fairly rough, but I like to take people there because there’s a point that’s breathtaking.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” No sooner than the words are said, Mom goes into a coughing fit.

  “Are you okay?” Lea asks.

  Mom nods. “Yeah, this fresh air must’ve went down the wrong windpipe.”

  We load into the van and Lea talks about having permission to cut through private property to get to this beach, but I zone out, watching the scenery. The farther we cruise along the curvy, winding road, Kai filters into my thoughts. I love our tour guide, Lea. She’s very knowledgeable and willing to share Kauai’s rich history. I’ve learned more information from her today than anywhere else. But part of me wishes we could still have hot tour-guide, Kai.

  And that pisses me off.

  I spent last night trying to get his hot body out of my brain. I’ve never had to do that before. My best friend Brian is hot, and he doesn’t plague my thoughts. But every time I closed my eyes, those delicious abs sprang to mind.

  I believe the adjective I’m looking for would be swoon-worthy. Yup‌…‌definitely swoon-worthy abs. Gah. It doesn’t matter that these feelings are all new, or that I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve read enough romances to know what to do. Ha. Right. But my imagination ran a little wild last night featuring Kai Hale and those damn swoon-worthy abs.

  ***

  Athletic bra should be capitalized in boldface font under the Waimea Canyon Tour lists of requirements. I’ve been jostled, jarred, and jiggled as if I’d ridden The Beast roller coaster at Kings Island. Jeez. “Little rough” my ass. The tour company must replace the van’s shocks every two months driving these back roads that lead to the beach Lea’s raving about. A couple of potholes are so deep; I have to grab hold of the “oh fuck” handle to keep my head from slamming against the window.

  The front passenger van’s tire finds one last crater as Lea pulls into a self-proclaimed parking spot. An overwhelming desire to kiss the ground rushes through me, and I unbuckle the seatbelt, looking straight ahead. I gasp at the ocean peeking through the trees. With one glimpse of the blue waves, the jarring ride is all but forgotten.

  Quickly exiting the van, I follow Lea to the edge of the sandy soil. Mom and I haven’t had time to visit any beaches yet. One drawback to our condominium being perched on a ledge is the lack of a beach. So yeah, I’m anxiously waiting to step foot on the sand.

  Outside murky lake water, we don’t have anything comparable back home. A chlorinated pool is the only clear water I’ve ever swum in. I’m beyond ready to be at the beach.

  When we emerge from the tree line, I step onto the sand and smile, wishing I had worn sandals instead of these clunky tennis shoes. Sand squishing in my toes seems far better than not feeling the sand at all. Oh well. There isn’t much slated for tomorrow, so maybe I’ll break away during the day.

  “Aah, this is nice,” Mom says beside me, gawking at the beachgoers.

  “Yes, I definitely want to spend a day on the beach soon.” I scan the area, and a pang of jealousy seeps in from the laughter echoing against the cove. The beach isn’t crowded by all means, but the surfers and the few windsurfers make it seem like everyone is having fun.

  “The trail begins right over there. It snakes through the woods and leads over to that area.” Lea points to a cliff two hundred yards away that overhangs the ocean. Waves splash against the rocky bottom sides, and I suddenly understand why she wants us to experience this. It’s yet another scenic spot.

  “I’ll walk to the entrance, but I’ll let you tackle the trail yourselves. I’ve seen it many times,” Lea says with a polite smile.

  Mom and I cross the beach and pass a small group of guys walking toward us. The muscular guy on the end brushes against my shoulder and knocks me off balance.

  “Sorry,” a husky male voice says. Strong hands reach and grab my arms to steady me.

  I laugh and look at the guy who’s staring at me with nothing but concern. “That’s okay; you kept me from falling.”

  “Had I’d known you’d fall for me so quickly, I would’ve taken my time,” Muscle Guy says with a wink. The confident half-smile should be a turn-off, but I find it shameles
sly endearing.

  I crinkle my nose and shake my head. “Does that line ever work?”

  Muscle Guy shrugs and raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  My smile widens but his teasing stare brings heat to my cheeks. I’m way out of my comfort zone. To break eye contact, I press my clammy palms against my pants and glance over his shoulder. Not helping. My breath catches in my throat as a familiar pair of brown eyes stares back. Hot tour-guide Kai with his delicious, swoon-worthy abs stands directly behind Muscle Guy.

  Chapter Ten

  Kai~

  I stop at Highway 56 and hold my breath as I crank the steering wheel toward the left. The wrath of Kamp is about to be released at any moment.

  Kamp frowns and glances from side to side. “Uh, where are we going?”

  His questionable tone makes me squirm in my seat, but I press forward to the North Shore. Earlier, I’d skidded over the details when I asked Kamp to go out tonight. I still don’t want to tell him. He’ll blow his top and give me shit.

  “Princeville,” I say assertively, trying to lessen the sting. It won’t matter; he’ll still get mad. Kamp hates the North Shore.

  “Princeville?”

  Kamp’s hands tighten into fists, but I don’t answer. Not yet. He still has to release his anger. I bite my lip to keep from smirking. I don’t want to piss him off more than what he already is, but he’s so predictable.

  Kamp lets out a few huffs and then pounds the dash with one fist. “You know I despise that place. Why’d you even ask me to go?”

  And there it is. “We haven’t been there for a while‌…‌I’d thought we’d check out the happenings,” I say, shrugging, trying to downplay the real reason. He can’t know my true intentions. Not yet, anyway.

  “We know what’s happening‌…‌nothing. All the bars will be filled with haoles’.” As if Kamp’s cringe-worthy whine isn’t enough, he emphasizes each word by waving his hands. “And none of our friends will be there.”

  “I’m not looking to hang with friends tonight.” I give him a sideways glance. Maybe if I plead, he’ll cave. Kamp’s too good of a friend not to. “Just go with it, please. I need to escape Bethany.”

  “Finally! But why? I don’t understand. You were just with her two nights ago, and I didn’t hear you complaining.”

  “I know, but I need a break. She’s getting‌…‌clingy.” I shudder and wrinkle my face. “She asked to come over to my house that night.”

  That’s a small lie. Beth just asked her place or mine, but she, along with everyone else, knows I don’t bring girls to my house. Ever. And in all honesty, her asking does bother me.

  Kamp throws his arms up in defeat and reclines back. “Fine, but why Princeville? Nobody will be there.”

  “Exactly,” I say, shutting down the conversation.

  Kamp lets out a grunt and mumbles, “If we’re trekking all the way to the North Shore, we’re at least listening to what I like.”

  Kamp digs around my console and finds an indie rock band with a post-punk revival sound. He shoves it in the CD player, and the beats immediately fill the car. I continue to Princeville. Although, I don’t know why the hell I’m going, and part of me agrees with Kamp that it will be a complete waste of time. But damn, I can’t get Kayla out of my mind‌—‌especially after seeing her. Even so, the chances are slim that she’ll be in some random bar. I can’t help it, though. And this compulsive need to drive across the island in hopes to see her is crazy. Stalker-ish even. Shit, I’m a fucking stalker. I take a calming breath and remind myself that I have her mom’s number and the address of where they’re staying‌—‌courtesy from the forms at work‌—‌and I’m not going to use the information. So yeah, not a total creeper.

  I grip the steering wheel tighter and glance at Kamp. He’s laid back jamming to the tunes. I relax somewhat, but wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Kayla is just another tourist, one of which I’ve seen plenty of throughout my twenty-four years. Over ninety-five thousand people filter to the island every month. That’s over one million people a year. So why the fuck am I hung up on this one girl who’s not even my type?

  Regardless, when Kamp bumped into her earlier today and used his stupid-ass cheesy line, I wanted to knock him to the ground. I’m not sure why I went all alpha-male wanting to stake a claim. But the thought of them together burned deep inside. And how did I handle it? By glaring.

  Fuck

  It was obvious I caught Kayla off guard. Her big deer-in-the-headlight stare gave her away. She recovered with a half-smile. And my response was a glare? What the hell is wrong with me? I think the ocean swallowed my smoothness from the wipe-out I took minutes before seeing her.

  By the time I got my shit together to respond, Kayla had turned back to her mom, and I watched her long, brown hair sashay across her back as she walked away. Perhaps shy girls are my new thing.

  One thing’s for sure. I may have handled the situation poorly, but I thank God Kayla’s smart enough to see through Kamp’s line of shit.

  I glimpse at the time on the dashboard and cringe. Seven-thirty is a little early, and Kayla doesn’t appear to be a partying-type girl. There’s a slim chance at best she’ll even be there. So why am I wasting my time? I have no fucking clue.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kayla~

  Despite the warm trade winds, I shiver but remain seated, not wanting to move inside. Darkness blankets the silky black ocean, hypnotizing me into a captive state. The ripples in the water mimic a satin ribbon, and I marvel at the color differences the ocean takes between daylight and evening. A part of me had hoped the days would be longer here than back home, but that’s clearly not the case. Not when the sun sets at six o’clock.

  I pull my legs up in the chair and let the sundress I’d put on earlier drape loosely over them. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I rest my chin on my knees and continue to stare at the waves. Goosebumps prickle my skin, and I wish I hadn’t changed out of my hiking pants. But I needed a shower after returning from the tour.

  I sigh at the thought of missing another sunset. The only complaint with the condo’s location is the mountain blocking the sunsets. The sunrises have been great‌—‌complete with rainbows. But I want to witness a sunset at some point before going home.

  I’m just not keen on venturing out on my own. The roads are narrow and winding, and the nights seem darker than at home.

  I drop my arms and lean back in the chair, drumming my fingers on the edge of the seat. I’m antsy from sitting around the condo. And I still can’t get Kai out of my head. Clearly, I’m broken. His earlier expression says it all‌—‌not interested.

  My gaze shifts to my phone lying on the patio table. On impulse, I pick it up and send a quick text to Staci. I type, “You’ve rubbed off on me. I’m now lusting over a local hottie. This is your fault.” I’m not sure when the message will be read, considering it’s two-thirty in the morning in Indiana, but the text is sent nonetheless.

  I toss the phone back on the table and pick up the bottled water to take a sip. I continue to stare at the silky water. The faint moonlight cast shadows into the sky and makes the dark ocean look as if it drops off the face of the earth. I want to reach out and touch the ebony slickness. See if the wetness is as smooth as it appears. Of course, it’s not. But the temptation still exists.

  An unexpected ringtone blares through the night’s calmness, and I flinch, my head snapping to the phone. What the heck is Staci still doing up? A laugh escapes when I read her text.

  Staci: Ha! I knew it. Tanned bodies too hard to resist.

  Me: Lol. Just one guy that I’ll never see again. Dubbed hot tour-guide Kai. But I CAN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT HIS DELICIOUS ABS.

  Staci: I was right! There was a hot tour guide. It’s a small island. Go find him.

  Me: Right! So easy! Besides, he hates me.

  Staci: Hates you? WTF?

  Me: Nice at times. Then not. Practically ignored me yesterday during th
e tour. I ran into him today, and he glared at me.

  Staci: See. lol. It is a small island. Why would he glare?

  Me: IDK. Weird?

  Staci: Forget him, he sounds like a douche.

  I stare at Staci’s text and bite my nail. I did make Kai sound like a douche. He wasn’t though. Not totally. When he wasn’t glaring, Kai was actually nice. Like when he made sure I was paddling correctly. And he seemed relaxed talking to me by the waterfall.

  Staci: Have you had your Mai Tai, yet?

  Me: It’s only the third night!

  Staci: So why wait? Go! Now! Mai Tai. Drink‌…‌direct order!

  Me: Lol. I’ll see what I can do. TTYL.

  Staci: Have fun. Goodnight!

  I chuckle and stare at the ocean for a moment longer. Maybe she’s right. I should go out. There was a nice bar in the complex where we got groceries the other day.

  Yes, I can do this.

  I stand up and waltz inside the condo. The whoosh of the sliding glass door draws Mom’s attention. She’s wearing a smile, but her eyelids are droopy despite the fact it’s only eight fifteen. I frown. Jet lag hit Mom hard, and she’s struggling to get over it. And her coughing spells hasn’t helped.

  “I was wondering if you’d want to go to the shopping center with me. You know, the one where we got our groceries. The other shops looked pretty neat. I’d thought about checking them out.” Along with the bar, I mentally add.

  “Hmm, do you mind going by yourself? I’m sort of settled for the night.”

  “Sure, I’ll just be gone for a little while.” I grab my purse.

  “The car keys are on the dining table.” Mom smiles encouragingly and points to the small glass table tucked under the stairs.

  I stroll over and eye the plum colored yarn poking from the tote bag lying against the wall. I bite my lip, tempted to stay in and work on the sweater instead. A moment passes as I debate what to do before exhaling a frustrated sigh and swiping the car keys off the table. This better be worth it, Staci. I’m tired of holding myself back and tonight’s going to be fun. Even if said fun means going to a bar by myself in Kauai.