by Willa Blair
“Tomorrow? Tell me where to pick you up after you close.”
“How about here? I can change in the back and be ready by three.”
The wicked grin he gave her made her wish she hadn’t planted a picture in his mind of her in the kitchen, stripping out of her clothes to don a bathing suit.
Bathing suit! The list of things she’d had no time to do as yet included getting new beach attire. She’d better go shopping after she closed today. She’d owned the suit she brought from Scotland for more years than she cared to admit—not that it’d seen much use. But it was horribly utilitarian compared to the wisps of brightly colored fabrics she’d noticed being almost worn here. Worse, she’d shopped for it with her mother. That was one association she did not want while in the water with this man. Or any man. Surely, in all the shops lining Ali’i Drive, she could find one bathing suit to flatter her pasty complexion and still cover enough so she didn’t feel completely exposed. And one that wouldn’t slip right off when she fell from the board into the water, which she surely would do. Ach, maybe she shouldn’t accept Tom’s invitation. Not right away. She wasn’t ready.
“I hear second thoughts buzzing around in your lovely head,” Tom said, interrupting her growing panic. He reached across the counter for her hand and squeezed it gently. “Put them out of your mind. It will be fun, I promise. And I’ll bring plenty of sunblock.”
Her body responded to his touch more quickly than her mouth could utter the refusal bouncing around in her mind. Instead, she leaned toward him, the chatter in her head lost to the warm firmness of his grip and the way tingling sensations ran from her fingertips up her arm and into her belly. She nodded.
Instead of pressing his advantage, Tom released her hand and picked up his coffee. “I’ll skip the pastry today and see you tomorrow morning,” he promised with a wink, and made his way out of the shop.
Makenna dragged her awareness from the thrumming in her blood to appreciate the play of strong muscles under his clothes as he walked away. As soon as he went out the door, her nerves came back. Aye, she would see him tomorrow. He hadn’t missed a day since she’d opened. Tomorrow, if she didn’t succeed in her shopping expedition, or, if after sleeping on it, she lost her mind and decided she’d be better off to keep Tom as a customer and nothing more, she’d have another chance to refuse his invitation.
Chapter Two
Makenna told Kerry she wouldn’t, but here she was, at Auntie Leila’s, talking about Tom. She cut a generous slice from an apple pie she’d made that morning. Auntie Leila poured another cup of tea, settled across the kitchen table, and picked up her fork. “So you like this kane, eh? How well do you know him?”
Makenna’s feet hurt from walking the length of Ali’i Drive with Kerry and wandering through every shop with swimwear for sale. She had found a one-piece Kerry pronounced flattering, and it met her own specifications as well—mostly covering her. Now nothing stood between her and her afternoon with Tom except her nerves. Kerry had insisted Auntie Leila could help, dropped her off, and escaped being part of the current inquisition adding to Makenna’s discomfort.
Makenna sipped her tea as she considered her answer. “I like him. I’ve only known him a few weeks, of course, but I see him first thing every morning in Sweetie Pie. He’s nice, courteous, funny, friendly…and he’s offered to teach me to surf.”
“Hmmph. Surfing isn’t all he has on his mind.”
A little thrill chased from Makenna’s belly to her breastbone. “He’s a guy, Auntie. That goes without saying.”
“What does he do?” Auntie Leila asked as she lifted a forkful of pie.
“For a living? Um…I should ask him about that.” Makenna ducked her head. She’d tried. He’d ignored her question.
“You bet,” Auntie said, waving the fork. “And where he lives. Have you seen his car? The kind of car a man drives will tell you much about him.” The pie finally made it into her mouth.
“No, I haven’t noticed a car. But ye know what parking is like on Ali’i. He could leave a car anywhere, in a nearby car park or blocks away.”
Auntie set her fork aside. “So you will bring him to meet me, and I will tell you if he’s the one for you.”
“What? Nay, no. No’ yet.”
“Have you made anything for him from the ginger I gave you? It came to my mother from her mother and to her from hers, all great nana i’ipo, matchmakers, and from them to me. Ginger warms and opens the heart. Mine will open his heart to you.”
Makenna shook her head. “It’s too soon for matchmaking. I’ve only been here a few months, busy setting up Sweetie Pie and running it. I’m sure I’ll meet lots of lads.” When?
“You work too much,” Auntie responded succinctly, reading her mind. “You must make sure he eats my ginger.”
“He doesn’t eat many sweets.”
“Then put it in something savory.”
The stubborn set to Auntie Leila’s jaw told Makenna she’d better plan on expanding the ingredient list in one of the recipes Tom liked. She tensed, which made her accent thicken, which annoyed her. “I hear ye, Auntie, I do,” she replied, forcing herself to breathe. “But I’d like to get to know him my way…”
“If you like him as much as I think, you’d be smart to use every advantage.”
“Then how will I know if he really wants me, or if something is making him think he does?”
“He already wants you. He’s made the first move. Now it’s up to you to encourage him.”
“It’s too soon.”
“Keep on like that and it will be too late.”
Makenna glanced down and noted her piece of pie was in shambles, crust mixed with the filling and crumbs littering the table around her plate. She hadn’t eaten a bite. A wave of anxiety washed through her, making the butterflies in her belly flutter madly, and reminding her ginger also held nausea at bay. She hoped she would not need Auntie’s remedy for that reason.
What if she turned Tom down and he never asked again? Was she willing to risk that? Nay, she was not.
“All right, Auntie. Ye have convinced me. I’ll go with him. Tomorrow should show me whether I truly want to encourage him.”
Even as those words left her mouth and hung in the air, she recognized their falsehood. She already wanted to encourage Tom. And tomorrow, she would. With Auntie Leila’s special ginger in the morning, and her own brand of magic in the afternoon.
****
The first surfing lesson wasn’t going too well, but Tom didn’t care. Makenna’s sweet body made his thoughts wander in a decidedly primal direction when she was fully dressed for work. Seeing her in a slinky one-piece on the beach had made him feel like he’d gone over the falls, tumbling under a wave, short on air, and wondering which way was up. The shortie wet suit he’d brought for her hid absolutely nothing of her curves.
Every time she fell and climbed back out of the water, dripping wet, his groin tightened and he swallowed. Good thing he stood in chest-deep water. Lifting her arms and arching back to wring out her streaming hair emphasized her lush breasts and the twin points of her nipples. Holy wipe-out. She had no idea how hot she looked. She had beauty, brains, and ambition, with an accent he couldn’t resist. No doubt about it, he was going under for the third time, and loving every minute of it.
He steadied her board as she climbed back on, kicked the leash around her ankle out of her way, and lay out on her belly. That put her nicely rounded bottom all too near his left hand and her long legs in easy reach. Christ, how could he keep his hard-on hidden from her? One good wave trough, and she’d know what he had on his mind. He’d better call a halt to this, and soon.
“Okay, last time. You can do it. Pop up.” He kept a firm grip on the board as Makenna’s hip lifted right by his nose and her legs scissored into the beginnings of a good crouch. As he let go, the next swell rocked the board and she fell. Onto him. As they went under, Tom’s arms went around her like they belonged there. He pulled her to a standing po
sition and held on, ignoring the large surfboard bobbing a few feet away, enjoying the way her body fit his and her long hair streamed over his shoulder. Hard-on be damned. She leaned into him, and he realized her hands were on his back. Low on his back.
“Um…” she said as a swell rocked their hips together.
“Um, yeah. I like this. Do you?” No sense denying what she could plainly feel for herself.
In answer, she smiled. “What do ye think, laddie?” One of her hands drifted down to cup his ass.
Okay, in that case…he lowered his mouth to hers and tasted. Salty…and a touch sweet. Like the muffin she’d made just for him that morning. Not too sweet, with a touch of salt, the way he liked things. With maybe a touch of ginger under the salted caramel drizzle. Whatever it was, it went well with the rich Kona coffee she served every morning. He might ask her to make those again. In the meantime, there was nothing like an arm full of warm, willing woman. As her lips parted under his, he decided he might like sweets after all.
****
A week later, Makenna admitted to herself Auntie had been right. She’d encouraged Tom and now she owed him a great deal of thanks for opening this island to her. Yesterday, after she admitted to a bit of homesickness for the Highlands, he’d offered to take her up Kohala Mountain. She couldn’t think of one reason to refuse, despite her nerves over the growing intimacy between them. Every morning for weeks, he’d regaled her with tales of another must-see location, like the observatories on the summit of Mauna Kea or the green sand beach. She’d reminded herself the chef was thousands of miles away, and she needed to get over what he’d done. She had learned her lesson. And so far, Tom had been the…almost…perfect gentleman, the perfect salve for her broken heart and bruised ego. So she’d agreed to go with him.
He drove a late model four-wheel-drive truck, she’d be happy to report to Auntie, not the old clunker Auntie expected a surfer to have.
As they climbed, the vistas stretched out for miles over the mountain, the curve of the island, and the blue Pacific. It was incredibly beautiful, if different from home. Only this was her home now, with her mother’s family nearby rather than her father’s, and with Auntie Leila’s notions about matchmaking and special ingredients. Makenna chuckled to herself. Scots had their superstitions, though she’d never resorted to trying any. It seemed Hawaiians had plenty, too.
“What’s so funny?” Tom asked as he guided the truck around yet another climbing curve and through a tunnel of trees.
Makenna’s face warmed. She dared not fill Tom’s head with Auntie’s ideas on matrimonial magic. “Nothing, really. I was just thinking about how people are the same everywhere. We all love the allure of high ground, ye ken?” Good thing he didn’t know what she’d really been thinking.
As they left the trees behind for open pasture, he replied. “At least here, high ground doesn’t mean tactical advantage.” He pointed to a line snaking down the mountainside between a series of tanks and ponds. “High ground means fresh water.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It rains a lot up there. The water collects in those then feeds in stages to lower elevations where it’s needed for livestock and farms.”
“Why not just run the line all the way down the mountain?”
“Water pressure. You’d have a single column with a lot of weight behind it. You can’t build a line or a tank strong enough to hold so much.”
“I had no idea.”
“There’s a lot I can tell you…and show you…about this island. But right now, we’re here.” Tom turned the truck into a long, fence-lined drive. They were headed to a cattle ranch for a cookout and to watch the sun set over the Pacific. On the way up the drive, they passed a few head of cattle, horses, a pig pen, and free-roaming sheep.
At the sight of the woolly wee beasties, Makenna suddenly felt more at home, despite the differences in the trees, all the flowering shrubs, and of course, the ocean stretching to the horizon in nearly every direction.
They wandered for a while, watching the animals and laughing as they compared what little they knew about ranching in Hawaii or Scotland. Before long, Makenna had become so comfortable, she leaned into Tom’s embrace as he stood behind her, arms wrapped around her middle. By sunset, as they watched clouds roll in to veil the sun’s disk sinking into the distant edge of the ocean, Makenna began to feel like she belonged in his arms.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked as the swift tropical night descended.
There it was. His concern for her, the gentle seduction she couldn’t resist. The breeze was much cooler at this elevation, but Makenna didn’t mind.
“In your arms, like this? Aye.” She rested her head against his shoulder, certain she never wanted to move, despite hearing the call to dinner. They needed to learn a lot about each other, but that would come. For now, she was content.
But when fat raindrops began to fall, Tom tugged her under a covered patio. Most of the ranch’s other guests had headed for the dining hall. They were alone.
“Don’t worry, the rain won’t last long,” he whispered, nuzzling her ear. “You’ll enjoy what comes next.”
She turned in his arms and pressed against him, suddenly hungry for more than dinner.
“Does it involve kissing you?”
He didn’t waste words. His lips met hers before she could take her next breath, and the muscles of his arms flexed under her hands as he pulled her tighter against him. Makenna’s core clenched and melted, desire for this man making her forget where they were.
Tom pulled her into a shadowed corner and cupped her breast with one hand while the other slid down to her bottom and pulled her tightly against his hardness.
“You have no idea what I’d like to do with you.”
“Oh, I think I do,” she murmured against his mouth then traced her tongue along his lips.
He opened to her, and she deepened the kiss. Dueling with him, she nipped at his tongue then sucked. Tom answered with a growl that set her blood ablaze. Reaching around to cup her sex through her jeans, he pressed and stroked until she couldn’t take any more, then he covered her cries with his mouth and held her until she stopped quivering. He guided her hand to the hard bulge at the front of his jeans. She fondled him, reveling in the massive evidence of his desire for her. His head fell back in surrender to her touch. She wanted more, but when her fingers skimmed his zipper up to the button of his jeans, he pulled her hand away and kissed it.
“That’s for some other time,” he promised. “But we need to stay out here for a few minutes. I can’t walk into the dining area just yet.”
Makenna nodded. “I dinna mind.”
What did he mean by some other time? Tonight? Or even later? She needed to get her rampaging hormones under control before things moved faster than she was ready for…and for such a public place.
She hadn’t noticed the rain stopped. Tom led her onto the lawn and wrapped his arms around her again, her back to his front, his body not yet under his control, judging by the hardness against her arse.
“What are we waiting for?” she asked, easing her lower body away from his. At this rate, they’d never get to eat.
“Beside the obvious?” He chuckled in her ear. “Just be patient.”
In minutes, the wind teased the clouds apart to reveal more stars than she had ever seen, except from the top of a Munro, the tallest peaks in the Highlands, so-called for the man who first listed them.
“This is what I meant when I said you’d enjoy what came next,” Tom told her with a wave that encompassed the starry sky. “Not that I minded your suggestion,” he added, his breath warm against her ear. “Now, we’d better go eat.”
Over their steak dinner, she told him about hiking the glens and climbing the Munros of her homeland. Then, once they’d had some laughs learning to throw a lasso at a roping stand, she was content to settle near a fire with a cup of coffee before the long drive back to Kona. Talking about the working ranch gave Makenna the
opening to ask Tom about what he did for a living.
“I used to be a professional surfer,” he told her with a shrug.
“No surprise there. What happened?”
“I got banged up in a bad wipe-out on Maui’s North Shore. My injuries made competition-level surfing impossible. But I couldn’t give it up entirely. I have to be content with gentler waves. So here I am.”
“You must have been very good to make enough to live on now.”
He hesitated for a moment then admitted, “I was.” He didn’t seem eager to elaborate, so Makenna let the subject drop.
“So now ye fill your days visiting Sweetie Pie and surfing gentler waves. What else?”
He hesitated again, making her wonder what he could be so reluctant to tell her.
“It depends on the day,” he answered. “Part of the perks of being a surf bum.”
“I think there’s more to ye than that,” she challenged, fascinated by the look of discomfort that passed over his face, quickly smoothed away and replaced by a winning smile.
“I guess you’ll just have to stick with me to find out.”
“I guess I will,” Makenna responded lightly. She should press for an answer, but doing so would open the door to his questions about her past and she didn’t want him to know what an eejit she’d been. Not until he got to know her well enough to discount her earlier idiotic mistakes.
Two afternoons later, he took her south of town to a coffee farm high above the coastline. Its small size surprised her, but the owners managed to pack a lot into their limited acreage. Chickens, goats and a donkey wandered free under coffee and citrus trees.
The beauty of the Big Island, Tom told her as they drove back to Kona, was in its diversity. “You have yet to see the volcano, or Hilo, or many other things. Now that you live here, we have time to explore it all.”
We, not you. The heat in his eyes promised he planned to explore more of her, too, making a thrill run from her belly to her chest as she recalled where they’d left things the other night at the ranch. But by the time they’d returned to Kona, she had decided to take her time and begged off inviting him in. He hadn’t tried to persuade her—simply kissed her good night and gone on his way.
