Sliding onto the bed beside her, he turned to face her, owning the space they shared with his masculine energy. There were no words spoken, only naturally understood stares and moans, deep sighs and acceptance that this had to happen.
Pressing his body against her, she felt his straining erection on her thigh.
“Where were we?” Reverent, Mak’s hand began to stroke her hot and ready flesh, sending tiny firecrackers of crazy anticipation over every cell. She was more than ready.
With blazing fire racing through his blood, he brought his body above her, leaning down to kiss her neck as his thighs nudged hers apart gently. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he slid his hands beneath her hips, cradling her curves in preparation for their union. Her legs wrapped tighter drawing him against her, yet there was room to get closer still – as close as two people can ever be.
Mak guided himself inside, inch by inch as Blythe sighed from the exquisite sensation. He moved slowly and then faster, each thrust taking her pleasure to new heights. She held on and enjoyed the lengthy, blissful ride, tightening her legs to draw him deeper and thrusting her hips up to match his. She gazed up into his face, his eyes hooded with lusty desire and his mouth parted. He grunted and moaned, the sound animalistic and wild in his urgency. Their mutual need increased, rising together in what seemed like endless waves of bliss. And then, a sigh of satisfaction as they both reached the brink, the release.
The intensity of the moment passed into one of drowsy contentment. Blythe wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his temples, working her way down to his mouth with soft, appreciative kisses.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“My pleasure,” he whispered back.
Sweaty limbs entwined around the twisted sheets as they lay spent across the bed.
Mak shook his head, looking surprised. “That was…”
“Amazing? Yep. I agree,” Blythe sighed.
“I knew you were a capable wildcat under all that polished reporter gear. I don’t think I could have waited any longer for you. You don’t mind that I just showed up at your door, right?”
“Mind?” she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on an elbow. “I think I have to pinch myself. I thought I’d never see you again once I left the precinct. Thought you’d never forgive me for all we went through on that island.”
Mak brought her chin closer with a finger. “Nothing could have kept me away from you.”
Not even a curse, she thought as he kissed her lips softly.
Blythe reached down and untangled the white cotton sheets, laying them across their naked bodies. She snuggled against him, leery that he may want to leave now that their ‘unfinished business’ was all over. She’d never had a one-night stand before. Was tonight considered one of those? Her mind reeled with nervous apprehension. Was she just another notch on the hot Fire Chief’s bedpost?
As if to answer her question, Mak put an arm around her shoulders and brought her in tight. “I want to spend more time with you.”
She stroked his chest with an open hand caressingly. “Tell me why you like being a firefighter.”
Mak took a long pause. “Well, I love the unpredictable power of fire. It demands respect and care, two things I expect in return.”
“You deserve respect and care. I’ll take care of you,” she kissed him gently. “Were you always this laidback about everything?”
Mak smiled and traced his finger up her arm. “There was a time when I roamed and raged like an all out inferno. I was angry, confused. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to deserve my life’s hardships.”
“Your girlfriend dying, you mean. And the curse.”
“Yes. I’m a pretty mellow guy now though. Kinda like a fire that’s gone to ember.”
“Hmm. Maybe ember that can flare up at a moment’s notice because I just witnessed it. I’d like to see it again.”
“I’d love to do that to you everywhere.” He nuzzled her neck playfully.
“In every room?” Blythe asked with excitement. “I’d like that.”
“How about another hot shower together?” Mak said as he hopped out of bed, stretching his muscular body toward the ceiling before putting out an inviting hand. Blythe sat up, completely unabashed and grabbed it. “Mmm, sounds exquisite.”
Well past midnight, they finally collapsed in a heap of spent satisfaction. Lulled by the knowledge that their hellish nightmare on the island of Kahoolawe was over for good, they fell asleep in each other’s arms without a care in the world.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mak tossed the newspaper on the bed. “We’re famous today.”
Blythe sat up and pulled the folded paper onto her lap. Catching a small photo and caption in the corner of page one, she read each line of their own adventure through another reporter’s secondary sources.
“Story of a lifetime – and instead another reporter grabs the glory when I should have been the primary. Go figure,” Blythe huffed, flipping the newspaper open to read the rest of the article that described their harrowing story. Mak leaned in and nuzzled her neck. “I thought you said you didn’t want to tell this particular story. Too close for comfort, remember?”
“Even so, I…” Blythe closed her eyes and the paper folded into her lap. “Mmm, that feels really good.”
“Yeah? You like that? There’s more were that came from.” Mak nibbled up to her ear, making her quiver with delight.
“Can you stay the day?” she asked in a seductively sleepy voice that meant to tempt.
“I just have to make one call and then I’m all yours. Or should I say, you’re all mine.” Mak kissed her once and pulled away, standing up beside the bed. She watched him shimmy his boxers on past his muscular thighs. “I’m going to whip you up an island specialty for breakfast. Since you’re hopeless in the kitchen, I feel it’s my duty to indulge you.”
Blythe threw a pillow at him. He ducked and laughed, enjoying their lazy ease. After all they’d been through, they’d skipped the slow getting to know each other and landed smack dab in familiar territory. Spending time together seemed so natural.
“You can use my office phone, just in there.”
“Thanks. I have to buy a new cell phone. Forgot mine up on Lua Makika. Guess it’s another artifact to be found on Kahoolawe.”
<><><>
“Pono, it’s Mak.”
“Hey, Chief. You okay? Any post traumatic stress stuff happening?”
No, but I will need to take the day off. Still feeling a little numb. Can you handle things at the station today?”
“I’ve got it covered. The guys all send you their best. Can’t wait to see you once you’re feeling back to normal.”
As Mak was about to mention the possibility of taking the following day off too, a framed article above Blythe’s desk caught his eyes. He moved closer to inspect it when a very specific name grabbed his attention. It didn’t make sense. How the hell?
“Chief? You still there?” Pono asked.
“Um, yeah. I’ve gotta go. I’ll be in tomorrow.”
Mak leaned in toward the frame, confusion flooding his senses. The article was about some arbitrary town festival, but he hardly noticed. His eyes zeroed in on the small photo of Blythe with the caption ‘Reporter Angela Dyson’ below it. Everything came back to him in a painful, flooding rush.
Mak strode out of the office. He watched as Blythe’s sleepy smile fell. “What’s wrong?” she asked innocently.
Mak threw the framed article onto the foot of the bed. Blythe clutched the sheet to her chest. “I can explain,” she begged.
“Don’t bother.” Mak found his jeans on the bedroom floor and hastily yanked them on while avoiding her pleading gaze.
“If it’s any consolation, that was the last article I wrote for the paper. I was fed up with being asked to sabotage stranger’s lives. I mean, who really cares about a superstitious curse, right? Please, Mak, look at me.”
Ignoring her plea, he
grabbed his tee shirt from a nearby chair and slung it over his shoulder, his bare chest uncovered in his urgency to flee.
Blythe threw back the sheet and scrambled off the bed, frantically pulling on her robe as he disappeared from the room. She raced after him, finally catching up. She ran around him and blocked his exit by pressing against his firm chest, her entire bodyweight forcing him to stop. “I was going to tell you, honest. Please believe me. I never meant to attack you personally. It was just a silly article I wrote a million years ago.”
He stared at her in awe. She really had no idea of the impact the article had unleashed on him; the gut-wrenching agony and pain it brought him over the years. That article had fundamentally changed his life in a negative way and she had written it. Yet she still had little remorse, just brushed it off, belittling his life as something insignificant.
“You’re right, it was nothing. You shouldn’t feel too bad about it. Hell, what do they say? Sticks and stones?” Mak’s anger seethed.
<><><>
Blythe noticed his seething anger and the scowl on his normally open face. She was causing that scowl, that pain. She could tell her unsympathetic words cut him deep. “Mak, please, I’m sorry. I’m so used to being factual, removed. It’s the part of my personality that needs an overhaul. I’m willing to learn. You can teach me.”
“Too late. Nothing you say will change what you did,” he said as he shoved on his sandals and opened the front door.
“Wait Mak, please, I…” but what could she possibly say? Without looking back, Mak slammed the front door and charged toward his truck. She stood on the porch, numb and speechless. She could only let him go.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Seeing Blythe’s face beside the name Angela Dyson sent shockwaves of shameful memories through Mak’s system as he raced away from her house. It seemed the curse had finally sent a woman to connive and deceive her way into his heart, only to rip it out mercilessly. He’d unknowingly fallen prey to true love. Other women had left, but deep down he hadn’t minded too much. But this, this was hell on earth. To bring him this far, so far gone, and then crush him to smithereens, it was inexcusable.
Why this woman? Why now? When he’d finally let himself go and taken the plunge, only to be tricked. The curse was stronger than ever and the demigod’s were not amused. He should have known not to believe Blythe was any different than the others. She was his test and he failed miserably.
“Want a ride to Big Lou’s wake?” Pono asked as Mak filed papers in his office. “We’re heading down there after lunch.”
Mak knew attending the wake would put him in a direct path with Blythe, and for that reason alone he loathed the idea. Avoiding the wake wasn’t an option, though. He’d have to attend out of respect for Lou and his family.
“You need to eat too, Chief. Can’t mope around here all day.”
Mak closed the filing cabinet and took a seat at his desk. He looked up at Pono who leaned against the doorframe, waiting. “Okay, where are you guys going for lunch?”
“Kaanapali Grill. You’re favorite.”
“Sure. Sounds good. Just give me a few minutes.” Mak leafed through the papers piled high on his desk. Since the incident on Kahoolawe three days earlier, he’d buried himself in work as a means of distraction. So far, it was working – sort of. Thoughts of Blythe’s touch and kisses still haunted his memories. The images were quickly soured by the revelation that she was also his one and only arch-nemesis, Angela Dyson, reporter and massacre of love lives.
Pono lingered at the door. He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone could overhear before leaning into the office. “You know, sometimes things happen for a reason.”
Mak paused and looked up. “What are you talking about?”
“The reporter. We all know you two got close on Kahoolawe.”
“And how could you possibly know that?”
Pono shot him a knowing look. “We practically live with you here at the station. We know your moods. And don’t forget I was there when you escaped the island. I saw the way you two were with each other on the way back. There was something powerful going on.”
“Well, that’s over now. Nothing to say about it.”
Pono laughed. “Nope, I’m not buying it.”
Mak got up and walked to the window. He gazed at the horizon, spying the island of Kahoolawe in the distance. “She wrote that article about me eight years ago, Pono.”
“What?”
“You heard me. She’s the reporter.” Mak turned to see Pono gape in disbelief. “Now do you understand why I can’t see her again?”
“That’s…wow. What a coincidence,” Pono scratched his head.
“Not only did she destroy me eight years ago, she did it again the other day. And I don’t think she was ever going to tell me. I found out by accident.”
Blowing all his air out, Pono shook his head in disbelief. “I just can’t believe the coincidence.”
“You said that already.”
“Listen,” Pono came in and closed the door, suddenly full of renewed energy. “What if you were meant to find out? What if this is your chance to forgive her? What if…”
“There are a thousand ‘what if’s’, Pono. No way will I see her again.”
“But what if she’s the one?”
<><><>
The breeze blew the palm trees that lined the water’s edge. Lou’s silver urn sat at the center of the gathering on a low podium surrounded by fragrant, colorful flowers as a woman sang and a man sat playing the ukulele. The ceremony was spiritual and rich in meaning.
Blythe dabbed her eyes as she listened to the minister, but couldn’t hold back her tears as Lou’s mother and sisters said a few words about him. The woman sang again as Lou’s family threw his ashes into the ocean. Everyone then tossed Lei flowers into the water after him, blessing his ashes and saying their goodbyes.
She hugged Lou’s family before walking away from the wake. Wrapping her arms around her waist in a self-embrace, Blythe felt more alone than ever. Crossing the grass toward the parking lot, she looked up and noticed Mak standing at a distance with his fellow firefighters. As if sensing her stare, he looked up and met her gaze, holding it. His face was expressionless, stony. She couldn’t read him at all and his apparent indifference broke her heart. Ripping her eyes away, she held back her tears until she got in her car. In that moment, she realized he could never love her the way she loved him. The damage was done.
As days passed, Blythe’s depression over losing Big Lou and then losing Mak deepened. She took a few days off work to mull over what she’d truly gone through on that island – hell on earth, that’s what. No one in their right mind could possibly jump back into the daily grind like nothing had happened, even a type-A workaholic. Burying herself in interviews and article writing wouldn’t bring Lou back. She had to take some needed time to reflect, take time to think about her next move. Was returning to Chicago a logical step? She certainly wasn’t feeling the love here. Then again, Maui had touched her in a way nowhere else had. The island had stirred something dormant beneath the surface. Mak had been the one responsible for bringing that passion out of her. The thought of closing those feelings off forever filled her with an intense grief. Her heart was ready for love. It was bursting for it.
“Do you want me to fly there? I can probably catch a flight tonight if I explain that it’s a family emergency, get a couple of days off,” Rachel offered through the phone.
“No, don’t do that. You were just here. Don’t use your time off to come and babysit me. I’ll be fine.”
“Doesn’t sound like it to me, Blythe. You fell for this guy really hard. You can always come to me, you know.”
“I’m sure Jarrod doesn’t want me in the way.”
Rachel paused. “Does he have a choice?”
Blythe laughed. “I guess not. But the answer’s still no. I have to stay and work things out here.”
“You know what you have to do, Blyth
e.”
“Call him. I know.”
Rachel sighed. “No. That won’t get you anywhere. He’s already closed himself off to you. You betrayed him remember? It’s going to be difficult to get back into his heart. It may never happen, honey.”
Blythe couldn’t fight back her tears. “I know. I’ve really screwed it up this time.”
“You can make things better, though.”
“But how?”
“You have to speak to the Kahuna and ask forgiveness.”
Blythe blinked back her tears. “Ask forgiveness for Mak?”
“Yep. Even if he never knows you did it, it’s the best thing you can do for him. It’s the right thing to do.’
Lying across her bed and feeling a little better after talking things over with Rachel, Blythe reached out a hand and felt the other side – the side Mak had slept on not long ago. The thought of her younger self, writing the article so flippantly and without considering the fallout, made her shake with fury. If she could take it all back, she would. How could she have been so insensitive, so callous? This man, so sexy and capable, deserved so much better than to live in the shadow of something from his past; something he had no way of preventing. He deserved some happiness once and for all and she was going to get it for him whether she ended up with him or not. Rachel was right.
Blythe swiveled her legs around and hung them over the edge of the bed. Where to begin? She strode into her office, looking up at the now vacant spot where the framed article had once hung. There was no way she would ever replace it. She was no longer that reporter, that person. Picking up the phone, she dialed a reliable source she’d used a thousand times before.
“Hi, Steve? It’s Blythe Davenport calling from MCS News. I need an address for an unlisted number. It’s for a Reverend Halia Okelani. Thanks.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chief Distraction Page 17
