by Anna Lowe
“Wow.” She nearly whistled. A one-handed handstand? “Maybe I should have done some yoga this morning,” she sighed, turning back to Tim. “Though I’m not sure it would help.”
He wrapped his hand around hers and flashed that mini-smile. The one that said everything would be all right. But even that seemed a little thin, like he wasn’t so sure himself.
When they reached the barn where his pickup was parked, Tim walked right past it and handed her a helmet instead.
“A motorcycle?” she squeaked, staring at the black Harley.
He grinned. “Yep. Connor — er, inherited — some money, and this was one of the few things he splurged on. Good getaway vehicle, I figure.”
That was a joke but not a joke, and when she slipped on behind Tim, her hands shook. Was she really ready to face the outside world?
He revved the engine and sped off, telling her, Yes, you are. Wrapping herself around his hard body helped too, and when they got halfway up the driveway, a Land Rover with tinted windows pulled in behind them.
“That’s Connor and Hunter,” Tim shouted back above the noise of the engine. “Our backup.”
She hid her face in his back. God, she owed so many people so much. How was she ever going to thank them all?
The Kapa’akea Resort was only a short distance down the coast — one of those ultrafancy places with a long, palm-lined drive and security guards who bristled as they approached. But Tim must have had some kind of contact there, because security waved the motorcycle and Land Rover right through. As they cruised down the private drive, Hailey watched polo ponies thunder over the green on the right. A golf course stretched out to the left, and pots of exotic flowers lined the porch of the resort. Tim parked beside the main building and walked Hailey over to an octagonal building on the edge of the polo field.
“This is the teahouse,” he said, all matter-of-fact.
Connor and Hunter fanned out behind them, looking every bit as menacing as presidential bodyguards, and she gulped.
“You can meet the reporter in there,” Tim said. “I’ll wait out on the porch. Okay?” He squeezed her hands.
She gulped. Not okay, because wow — he’d gone to incredible lengths to organize all this for her. All she’d ever done was brew coffee for him.
“Perfect. Thank you. Again,” she whispered, giving him a peck on the cheek.
His face was just as inscrutable as Connor’s or Hunter’s, but his eyes sparkled before he let her go.
Hailey took a deep breath. Someday, she’d find a way to say thank you properly. Right now…
She stepped inside the teahouse, extending her hand to each of the two people inside. The reporter turned out to be a friendly local woman in a flower-print dress who tut-tutted sympathetically at everything Hailey had been through — not at all the nosy shark Hailey was expecting. The photographer was a small Asian man who smiled and asked permission before taking Hailey’s picture. She’d nearly done a double take at that. Tim, she noticed, made sure to slide out of the background of each photo, no matter what angle the photographer took.
Interviews were nothing new to Hailey, but this one just flew. There was something liberating about being the one to call the meeting and to tell her story in her own words. She went to lengths to make Jonathan sound better than he was with sound bites like We just weren’t meant for each other and I needed more space, and she didn’t mention Lamar. She did the same about her mother and the modeling industry, but the truth must have shone through, because the reporter scribbled away on a notepad and exchanged looks with the photographer that said Holy shit. I’d be out of there too.
Finally, Hailey signed an agreement granting the reporter exclusive rights to her story in exchange for the reporter swearing not to reveal her location, and that was that.
Meeting the reporter was the easy part. Then Tim’s phone beeped out on the porch. When Hailey looked up, his grim expression warned her to brace herself. A long, black limo swept down the drive, coming to a halt right outside the teahouse.
“Good luck, honey,” the reporter whispered on the way out.
The photographer winked at her with an apologetic, You’ll need it look and followed the reporter away.
Hailey straightened her shoulders and forced herself not to cross her arms — classic defensive posture — when the limo pulled up. Nothing happened right away, and Hailey tapped her foot. Finally, the driver — a big islander who didn’t look too comfortable in his suit and tie — stepped out and circled the vehicle, rolling his eyes with a look that said, This lady really wants me to open the door for her?
Hailey hid a frown. Yep, that was her mother in there, all right.
The driver opened the door, and a hand extended.
Hailey snorted. Her mother didn’t need help to get out of a car. She’d seen the woman stomp and shove aside extras on a set if they got in her way. But her mother loved making a grand entrance and getting all the attention she could.
Hailey nearly laughed when the driver applied a little too much force and nearly launched her mother into the air. Her mother appeared exactly the way Hailey imagined the woman had been born — scowling, red-faced, and flailing. She shook a finger at Hailey like she was the one who’d done something wrong.
“Just you wait until I get started with you—” Hailey’s mother began without so much as adjusting the red and white polka dot kerchief tied around her head. She wore a white blouse, red pants, and giant white sunglasses. A new outfit, in other words. Apparently, she’d been worried enough about Hailey to squeeze in some therapeutic shopping time in Waikiki.
“Nice to see you too,” Hailey murmured.
Tim stepped forward, completely expressionless, letting his bristling shoulders do the talking.
“For God’s sake—” her mother snapped.
Hailey opened the door of the teahouse. “We can talk in here.”
Her mother marched past, chin high, arms swinging like a boxer’s, her face nearly as red as her pants. Hailey held the door open long enough to show Tim she’d appreciate his support, and he filed in quietly behind them.
When the door closed, Hailey’s mother spun and jerked an accusing finger at Tim. “Who the hell is that?”
Hailey glared. Really glared at her own mother, because that man — a perfect stranger — had shown more kindness and understanding than her own mother had in the past five years.
But she couldn’t exactly say he’s the man I spent last night curled up with.
“My bodyguard,” she blurted, shooting Tim a look that said, I hope you don’t mind.
He didn’t move, didn’t blink, but the corner of his mouth twitched, telling her he was okay with that.
There was no way her eagle-eyed mother missed that look, but all she said was, “Hmpf.” Then she sniffed at a vase full of gorgeous irises and rooted around in her purse, muttering, “Jesus, all these flowers, all the time. Don’t they ever give it a break?” Then she eyed Hailey’s shirt. “God, what are you wearing?”
Hailey sucked in her lips and counted to ten.
Her mother blew her nose like a trumpet then thumped her purse onto a table, rumpling the sheer white tablecloth. “I can’t believe how childish you’ve been. How selfish.”
Hailey gaped. “It’s selfish to refuse to marry someone? This isn’t the eighteenth century, Mom. We’re not destitute, and we don’t need a title.”
She winced at her own words. Maybe she shouldn’t give her mother any ideas. Her mother was perfectly capable of hatching a scheme to marry her off to the next in line to the throne in one of those tiny principalities that still existed around the world. Or worse, to a sheik.
But her mother just went on as if she hadn’t heard. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life. You walked out of your own wedding!”
“Not my wedding,” Hailey shot back, trying not to scream. “A setup. A trap.”
“A trap? A trap?” Her mother grew shrill. “I’ll tell you what a trap is.”
Hailey closed her eyes, knowing exactly what her mother would say next.
“Trapped is being a widow with a mountain of debt and a kid to feed. Trapped is flipping burgers day after day. Trapped is living in a house with a leaking roof, not knowing how you’ll ever make ends meet.”
“Mom—”
“So when a man comes along, and you fall in love—”
Hailey threw her hands up in a stop sign. “I don’t love Jonathan, Mom. I never did. I think it was all a subconscious need to escape.”
“What could you possibly want to escape?”
You, she nearly said.
“I’m an adult now, Mom. I need space.”
Her mother smacked the table and didn’t so much as flinch when the vase tipped over. Hailey tried to catch it, but she was too late. Water sloshed across the perfect tablecloth, and the flowers fell into a heap.
“Everything I ever did for you,” her mother snapped. “All the sacrifices I made…”
Hailey cupped a hand and did her best to scoop the water back into the vase. A losing battle, because as much dripped through her fingers as landed back in the vase. She stuffed the flowers in next, but several petals remained strewn across the tablecloth. The whole thing was a mess. The story of her life.
“You did all that, Mom, and I appreciate it,” she said as gently as she could. “But we’re not stuck any more. We have money. More than we ever dreamed of.”
“Maybe more than you ever dreamed of,” her mother muttered.
Hailey wanted to hang her head. How high was her mother aiming? How much would be enough?
“You’ve never been practical, Hailey. Without me, you’d still be back at the diner.”
Without me, Hailey wanted to say, you would still be at the diner. But she refused to stoop that low. And anyway, she couldn’t get a word in, because her mother was on a roll.
“You’re just like your father. Impractical. Romantic. Like holding on to that piece of land.”
Hailey stared. Her mother was still going on about the land her grandfather had left her? It was a tiny plot way out in northern Montana where her great-grandparents had lived when they’d first moved there in the 1950s. The place wasn’t worth much, but it had a lot of sentimental value, and she’d hung on to it through thick and thin.
“Marrying Jonathan has every advantage, and you know it,” her mother went on. The only thing that cut her off was a series of sneezes that seized her next. “Jesus, is there a dog in here or something?”
Hailey ignored her. “What advantage, Mom? I don’t love Jonathan. There’s nothing there. No magic, no chemistry.” Hailey couldn’t keep her eyes from roving to Tim. Not like the chemistry I feel with him.
“Magic? Chemistry? Those don’t pay the bills.”
“No, my modeling does. We haven’t had problems paying the bills in years. We don’t need Jonathan’s money.” Why couldn’t her mother get that into her head?
Her mother frowned through another violent sneeze. “He can take you places you’ve never dreamed of, Hailey. First the Senate, then who knows? Maybe even the White House.”
Hailey gaped. The White House? Her mother wanted her to marry an arrogant ass because he had a long shot at running for president someday? Was she crazy? Hailey couldn’t even imagine herself living that kind of life.
Her mother somehow mistook her disgust for interest, because she flashed a wild smile and gushed on. “Just think about that, Hailey. You and me, in the White House. And thanks to me, Jonathan is willing to give you another chance.”
Hailey slapped her hands over her eyes. It was all so surreal. Then she straightened quickly, determined to make her point and get out.
“I’m not going back, Mom.”
“Thanks to me, you don’t have to go anywhere.” Her mother grinned, motioning outside.
The few resort guests in Hailey’s line of sight were all looking up, and palm branches waved madly in a sudden burst of wind. The sound of rotors filled her ears, and even Tim looked up in alarm.
Hailey’s stomach folded in on itself, making her feel sick. That was a helicopter out there, and she already knew who was in it.
“What have you done, Mother?” she cried as the helicopter touched down.
The door flew open, and Jonathan stepped out, looking every bit the harried corporate executive ready to close the deal of his life.
“Only what’s best for you,” her mother snipped.
Hailey’s lips moved, trying to form a protest, but it was too late. Jonathan was already striding toward the teahouse like he owned the place. Like he owned Hailey, in fact.
“No,” she whispered miserably. “No.”
Chapter Thirteen
Stop him, Tim barked to his friends outside.
Unnecessarily, as it turned out, because they reacted as quickly as he. Tim blocked the door while Connor and Hunter intercepted Jonathan just outside the whirring perimeter of the helicopter’s spinning blades. Both men crossed their arms and pinned Jonathan with cold, hard looks that stopped him in his tracks.
Tim looked at Hailey. “You don’t need to talk to him if you don’t want to.”
He sure wouldn’t want to. If the arrogant attitude hadn’t already made him hate Jonathan, the way the guy touched his tailored suit and slicked-back hair would.
“Of course, she needs to talk to him. He’s her fiancé,” her mother squawked.
Tim ignored her, as did Hailey.
“I don’t want to, but I need to. This needs to end.” Hailey’s voice wavered, but her eyes were fierce.
You’re amazing, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t, not with her mother there.
Her mother, meanwhile, let out a sneeze so loud, his ears rang. Then she sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “I swear, someone must have let an animal in here at some point. My allergies…”
Tim rolled his eyes but held back what he was dying to say. Yes, there is an animal in here. Me.
Instead, he turned to Connor and Hunter and grunted, Let him through. Just keep an eye on the others. Any shifters out there?
Negative, Connor replied. The pilot and the bodyguards are all human.
At least there was that — Lamar was following their orders to stay the hell away from Maui.
Jonathan started to argue with Connor, insisting that the pale, portly man beside him ought to be allowed through too.
Tim looked at Hailey. “Who’s that?”
She sighed. “His lawyer.”
Tim stared. What kind of man brought a lawyer to make up with his girlfriend?
Ex-girlfriend, his inner bear growled.
“Everything is business to Jonathan,” Hailey muttered, reading his mind.
“Nothing wrong with business,” her mother sniffed.
Tim resisted the urge to shake the woman. Mothers were supposed to love their children. Guide them. Scold or praise as the situation demanded. God knew his poor mother had done a lot more scolding than praising with all the trouble he and Connor had gotten into, but she’d never held back her love. But Hailey’s mother?
Too bad she’s too old for Jonathan, his bear muttered. They’d be perfect for each other.
Connor looked toward Tim, who shook his head. No lawyer. One asshole is enough for today.
Jonathan strode forward, smoothing over his tie, obviously preparing his words. Hailey’s mother checked her hair as if angling to hook the guy herself. Hailey, meanwhile, set her stance a little wider, bracing herself.
You can do this, Tim wanted to cheer to her as he stepped away from the door. He had to allow Jonathan in, but if the bastard so much as made a move on Hailey…
“Hailey, sweetheart! I was so worried about you!” Jonathan declared the second he came through the door. “Are you all right?”
At least he bothered to use the right words, even if Tim could smell the lie. Hailey could too, and she backed away from Jonathan with her arms firmly crossed.
“I’m fine,” she snipped while her body l
anguage ordered Jonathan to back off.
Jonathan threw up his hands the way guilty men did to declare, Who, me?
Tim wanted to throttle the guy already. He was too slick. Too rich. Too sure he’d get whatever he wanted, regardless of the means.
Jonathan gave him a disdainful look, but Tim turned on his fiercest grizzly glare, and the man withered under his gaze. Jonathan looked between Hailey, her mother, and Tim, then finally aimed his question at Hailey’s mother.
“Who is this?” he demanded, not man enough to face Tim himself.
“My bodyguard,” Hailey shot back.
Right on cue, Tim turned on that blank stare that said he wasn’t listening even though he was right there. People rich enough to have security guards always fell for that.
And sure enough, Jonathan turned to Hailey and picked up his charm offensive where he’d left off. “I can’t tell you how worried I was.”
Hailey wasn’t buying one word, and it showed. “You’ve wasted your time, Jonathan. It’s over. And if you’d ever bothered to ask, you would have known it was over a long time ago.”
Jonathan tut-tutted as if Hailey were an unreasonable child. “Baby, I—”
“Don’t call me baby.” Her eyes blazed.
Jonathan tried a different tack. “Now, I realize it might not have been a great idea to surprise you like that—”
“Now you realize?” Hailey barked.
“—but I love you.” Jonathan went on without skipping a beat. “When Lamar found you—”
Hailey shoved her hands on her hips. “And how exactly did he do that?”
Jonathan stopped, looking genuinely surprised. “He doesn’t ask about my work. I don’t ask about his.”
Hailey’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you should.”
Tim sniffed the air, using his keen bear senses. Did Jonathan know his head of security was a shifter? The air around him had the faintest whiff of shifter in it, but nothing fresh enough to cause alarm.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jonathan asked.
