Wet

by Angel Payne

  She couldn’t let that one go without sobbing again. After Kell kissed her a few more times, she turned a tender smile toward Tait. He twisted his lips, clearly at war with himself about what to say. She pressed a protesting finger on the middle of all those sexy angles, ordering a halt to his battle. “It’s okay,” she said. “There’s no gold stars here for forced words. Just acceptance for the honesty in your eyes.”

  He lifted his head in order to catch that finger between his lips. After tenderly suckling it, he flicked his gaze to his friend. “Hey, Kell?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Did we do something seriously awesome on a mission and forget about it? Otherwise, I don’t get how a couple of dorks like us got gifted with a star like this.”

  The lush curves of Kellan’s mouth gave way to their own smile. “I don’t think we should tempt the universe with that question, dude.”

  Lani shot him a frown. “Why not?”

  “Because it might realize it made a mistake.”

  She stuck out her chin. “Well, it can’t do that.”

  “Oh, no?” Tait kicked up his brows. “In our line of work, babe, you learn real fast about the universe.”

  “The sadistic bastard,” Kellan put in.

  “Gets his kicks on random take-backs.”

  “Word.” Kellan swung a sideways fist into the air over her head. Tait met the bump, only to drop out of it to land his hand directly on her left breast. Not shockingly, Kell’s hand ended up in the same position on her right breast. “Damn,” he muttered. “Sorry about that. It has a will of its own sometimes.”

  “Yeah,” Tait added. “Mine too. Guess my hands just crave to touch things of beauty.”

  While Lani giggled, Kellan gave a whistle of approval. “Nice save, brother.”

  She took advantage of the chance to slide her hands up both their arms, savoring some beauty of her own in the form of their muscled landscapes before cupping both their prominent jaws once more. “Maybe I don’t want to be saved.”

  They answered that with tandem growls, interrupting themselves long enough to take turns in kissing damn near every thought out of her mind.

  Except for the truth behind her words.

  I don’t want to be saved.

  They were both here, in this shitty and dangerous situation, because of her. Because of the duty they felt to save her. She didn’t blame them for it. She didn’t even fault their profession for it. Gods, these two had probably spent their baby years “guarding” their teddy bears from the “evil force” of the washing machine. Protectiveness was branded into their DNA. Though maddening, it was simply another amazing fragment of why she loved them both.

  That didn’t mean she couldn’t circumvent it. Especially when it was completely in her power to do so.

  This entire situation would go away—if the caves beneath the ranch did.

  Her heart cracked. But the fissure was wide enough to allow clarity in, along with its friend, determination. An added encouragement: the plot would be ridiculously easy to carry out. Swiftly, quietly, and alone. By the time the guys woke up and figured out what she was up to, the damage would be done. The tunnel, and nearly everything on top of it, would be gone.

  It wouldn’t keep Kellan and Tait out of danger forever. Aue, every line of their job descriptions started with the word. It only meant that they wouldn’t be killed because of her. Not at the will of maggots like Cameron Stock and Gunter Benson. Not outside her front door.

  Over the last few days, she’d heard them both lecturing Leo about making right choices. This was the right choice. Though the two men in her arms would never see it that way, her heart and soul voiced their firm approval to her plans. The heart and soul that hadn’t just been captured by these two amazing warriors but transformed by them. Changed from insecurity and suspicion to confidence and trust. Guided to becoming more of the person she wanted to be.

  She owed them so much—and had no idea how she’d ever show them the real depths of her gratitude.

  But she could start to try.

  * * *

  As she’d hoped, they both fell asleep. Yeah, they’d been slinging their macho soldier shit about taking turns for naps, but that was before both of them had their heads on real pillows and their bodies in a real bed, after working their toned asses off to give her some mind-bending orgasms in said bed.

  They’d be out deep for only a few minutes. After the years they’d spent on missions, their minds were trained to pop in and out of REM sleep faster than most people changed TV channels. Even with that working for her, slipping out from between them wasn’t easy. Tait roused enough to loop her by the waist with a groggy protest about keeping her close. He called her “Hoku-lulu” this time, instead of “Luna,” which she wryly considered a step in the right direction, before telling him it wouldn’t be pretty if she didn’t pee soon. He’d let her go with no more objection and then fallen right back to sleep, thank the gods.

  After that, she made a quick stop in the dining room with paper and pen in hand. She owed Leo an explanation, though she already knew he’d understand what she was about to do. In his way, her little brother had fallen just as hard for “T-Boner” and “Slash-gasm” as she had.

  Now she stood outside the cottage with the keys to their rental car in hand. Though she’d followed them here in the jeep, the rental ran quieter. Still, she vacillated. What if the guys heard her starting the car? Her ass, perhaps more, would be marked for the punishment of her life.

  She huffed. “Who are you kidding, Hokulani? The second you drive out of here, the punishment’s a sure thing.” And every bone in her body told her Tait and Kell could make punishments as bad as they were good…

  A shiver vibrated down to the soles of her feet.

  “Knock it off,” she chastised herself. “You have the means to make this all go away—so get this party started and do it, damn it.”

  Without another backward glance at the cottage, she marched to the rental, got in, and drove off the base as quietly as she could.

  Once she got to the highway, she opened up the engine—relatively speaking. The rental had the pickup power of three donkeys and a gopher, but it got the job done in getting her to the turn-off near Kaipo’s market. The store was dark. Not a surprise. The eighties alarm clock at the cottage had done a glaringly good job of telling her what time she got out of bed, meaning that by now, it was well past midnight. The big Samoan had long ago hung the Closed sign, probably a little early in order to take advantage of the great surfing weather, before going home to his gorgeous wife and three rambunctious boys.

  For a tiny moment, she tried to imagine herself in the same kind of situation. A home full of laughter. Healthy, happy kids. A husband who worshipped the ground she walked on…

  That was where the dream fell apart. Trying to envision Tait or Kellan in that role, without the other, shattered her fantasy. She didn’t want to dream of a life without loving them. She didn’t want to think of an earth without them on it. Which was why she was going through with this plan.

  She filled in for Kaipo at the store when he wanted to treat Natia and the boys to special trips, so it was easy to let herself into the store in order to retrieve the items she’d need. She left cash on the counter for the fire starter, flashlight, and batteries, and then locked up and made her way to the car.

  Where Luna decided to pay her a fun little visit.

  She shook her head to clear it of the presence, so recognizable now, who wafted into the fabric of her mind like a wisp of cool wind. Given the muggy heat of the night, she likely would’ve welcomed the intrusion under other circumstances. But she had a good idea of why the woman’s spirit had chased her down here and now. Unlike the first two occurrences, the timing on this one sucked like rain on a Sunday.

  I’m not that easy to get rid of, girlfriend.

  Lani sighed. “Are you here to lecture me about how they’re trained Special Forces professionals who confront danger like this every
day?”

  Why would I waste time on that? You already know it and are ignoring it. But I get that. I did the same thing for the exact same reason. You think this could be the op where they won’t get lucky—and thank God you’re here to save them from their fatal date with destiny.

  She smiled into the darkness. Since she knew every rut and bump in the road between here and home, she purposely left the car’s lights off, just in case Benson and Stock decided to stake an early claim on the ranch. “So you do understand,” she murmured.

  Sure I do.

  “Thank you.”

  I also understand that if you get yourself captured or killed on this crazy stunt, it’ll destroy Kellan.

  “Damn it.”

  And Tait too.

  “You can go away now.”

  Thankfully, her mind was silent after that.

  Fortune smiled on her again; everything at the ranch was equally quiet.

  After driving up the main road and passing the mansion, she turned down the truck road to the barn. The dirt lane was a mire of mud due to the heavier rains lately, making her doubt the decision not to take Kaipo’s delivery truck for this, but she knew if Benson and his “friends” were sneaking around, the rental would lend her the most anonymity. As an extra precaution, she snagged Tait’s Seahawks cap and tucked her hair beneath it. Now she appeared like every other island girl…who sneaked around a barn in the middle of the night…proclaiming her devotion to the Seahawks.

  Maybe this was a little crazy.

  But fortune didn’t favor the sane. And sometimes, not even the brave. That was a good thing, because she didn’t feel a lot of either as she twirled the combo lock for the barn and then opened the big red door. Clutching the flashlight for an extra dose of nerve, she made her way to the big iron storage locker that took up a good chunk of the opposite wall. The cabinet was secured with another combination lock. After she clicked in those digits and popped the shackle, the door swung back with a creak she was certain they could hear in Lihue.

  She let her nervous grimace give way to a smile when the boxes she was seeking were right where she’d hoped. She flashed on the afternoon, so long ago now, when she’d found the wooden crates while cleaning out the pantry with Dad. How old had she been? Thirteen? Fourteen? No. She’d still been rocking the orthodontics, so it’d been earlier, eleven or twelve. She and Dad had snickered at seeing the red block letters, TNT, straight out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon, though they’d shared a thrill when they looked inside, discovering the containers really did contain the distinctive red blocks. It had been like searching a castle and finding a hidey-hole with a princess’s diary inside. Where had the stuff come from? Who left it there? And why?

  Their moment of glory hadn’t lasted long. Mom had not shared their delight. She’d ordered the explosives out of the house and into the barn, where they’d remained ever since.

  In the years since, Lani had always been curious about that anomaly. Three boxes of explosives stored so close to the mansion’s kitchen, of all places. After what Kellan and Tait had shared with her today, the dots started to connect. The new kitchen had been built over what was known as the ranch’s “first pantry,” now a term she knew as code for the entry point into the house from the cave. The TNT was brought here as a drastic “Plan B” by the outlaws who’d used the tunnel, as a means of burying their tracks—literally—in case of pursuit by enemies.

  Tonight, she was going to honor the scalawags’ brilliant thinking.

  She had no illusions about the damage she was about to wield. Judging from what Tait and Kell relayed about where they found the mouth of the cave, as well as the “hollow” parts of the kitchen floor that had always made her so curious, she guessed that the tunnel ran right under the observation cliff. Once the cave was imploded, the hill would crumble. Most of the orchard and rose gardens would be taken out by the slide, as well a good length of the beach access path. The explosion would also destroy half, if not all, of the main house. The barn and paddock were far enough away to be spared. Everything else would take years to rebuild. But somehow, they would rebuild.

  And Tait and Kellan would still be alive.

  As she returned to the house and offloaded the explosives to the back lanai, she paused once a minute to eavesdrop on every molecule of the night’s air. All was still, the atmosphere broken only by the occasional breeze off the lazy ocean, for which she sent silent thanks to the gods. If a car came up the drive or a “visitor” approached from the beach, she’d definitely know it.

  By the time she slid her key into the lock on the back door, her heartbeat eased into a tango beat instead of a salsa. She didn’t use the reprieve as an excuse to let down her guard. After toeing off her shoes, she took pliant steps through the kitchen, across the dining room, and into the living room, and then held her breath to listen once more. All seemed normal. The shadows in the rooms were the same as always. The windows sighed softly from the wind, also completely normal.

  She exhaled in relief.

  And just as quickly girded herself with another long breath in. She’d caught a lot of lucky breaks so far, nothing to take for granted. “Surreptitious” continued to be her middle name while heaving the first box of explosives out of the car and into the house.

  As she set the container down, she was richly rewarded for her mouse act.

  Gunter’s lord-of-the-manor baritone filtered up through the floorboards, stirring fresh bile in her stomach. He barked an order of some sort, causing a lot of frantic boot scuffles in response. She curled a tight hand to her middle and let out a conflicted rasp.

  Damn it.

  Why hadn’t she included the possibility of people being in the tunnel when she unleashed the fire and brimstone on it? Worse, why hadn’t she anticipated hitting this dilemma about turning them all into human cake batter?

  All right, yes, they all worked for Gunter Benson. And if the floorboards were figuratively flipped, Gunter wouldn’t waste a second on lighting the fuses for her doom. In many senses, he already had. Promising her as a use-and-dispose “toy” for his North Korean friend required an infusion of evil she honestly hadn’t imagined in him. Maybe that was her problem. Maybe she’d bought the designer suit sham in a few ways, too, and now couldn’t see that taking out the man and a few of his goons would be seen by some as a favor for the world.

  She moaned softly and dropped her head. Her conscience had the worst timing in the world.

  “Well, hello there.”

  The greeting, quiet even against the stillness of the house, knocked her on her butt. “Shit,” she gasped, scuffling to slam her back against the wall. “Shit.” She raised her gape at a man who looked like the cover of Asian GQ. “Wh-Who are—”

  He interrupted her with a laugh the texture of creamed cocoa. “Gunter was right.” Make that creamed tea. His voice lilted with an accent right out of Buckingham Palace. “You’re quite lovely when you’re—how did he phrase it?—full of sass and spit.” He unbuttoned the coat of his perfectly fitted ivory suit in order to crouch in front of her. “And they say midnight snacks aren’t worth the trouble.”

  His voice was London proper, but his gaze was raw jungle predator.

  “Get out of my house,” Lani spat. In the position he was in, it wouldn’t be easy to get her heel into his balls, but she’d find a way.

  The man released a string of cultured tsks. “Now, now, darling. Perhaps we’ve charged through the china shop prematurely.” He held out a hand with elegant ease. “My name is Ayaan Tan. Now your turn.”

  “I know who you are, asshole. And I know why you’re here.” She kicked his hand away. “Don’t come near me.”

  Tan gave a soft snort before pulling out a linen handkerchief and wiping his hands. He rose, stuffed the square into his breast pocket, and then clapped those hands once. Within seconds, the kitchen was blasted with light and filled with six Koreans the size of rhinos. After a flick of Tan’s wrist, the men descended on her. Before Lani could think
of letting out her first scream, Tan replied to her charge, in his calmest tea-hour tone, “I have no intentions of touching you, my little snack cake. Not yet, at least.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “When I get my hands on that woman’s ass again, it’s going to get stripped, spanked, and flogged into a couple of red, throbbing—”

  Kellan cut into Tait’s tirade with a harsh grunt. When his friend stopped trying to turn the sand in front of the cottage into glass with his heated pacing, Kell jerked his head up at the lanai. A groggy-eyed Leo stood on the porch.

  “What the hell’s going on?” the teen moaned. “Sounds like you two are doing a damn hula pˋiumauma out here.”

  Kellan lifted a scowl at the kid. There was no sense in sugarcoating this. “If that means wanting to throttle your sister, then you just nailed it.”

  Leo stopped rubbing his eyes. “Shit. Where is she?”

  Tait stomped up the stairs and thrust the note at the kid. “Sorry we poached it out of your room, but when we couldn’t find her, we thought she may have gone to check on you.”

  Leo studied the letter with a face that widened in surprise and then darkened in dread. Kell imagined Tait’s face and his must’ve carried the same expression five minutes ago, during their own stunned reading.

  Mafileokaveka…my brother Leo…

  This isn’t easy for me to write, but you more than everyone else can understand I’ve given this a lot of thought. Dangerous men want to get their hands on Hale Anelas, people who are only going to start on you and me before they try to destroy the whole country, using our island and our home as their command post. Tait, Kellan, and their friends from the 5th SFGA are convinced they’ll be able to stop these monsters, but the thought of more death in the air at the ranch, especially theirs, is a horror I couldn’t bear. If I destroy what Benson and his friends want the most, the access tunnel from the beach, the core of their treasure will be gone, and we’ll be free from their awful plans.

  I’m going to use the explosives from the barn to do this. You know what this means for the majority of the ranch as we know it. I’d beg you to forgive me for destroying our home, but in reality, all I’m blowing up is our ranch. Home is the place in our hearts that’s always reserved for each other. Whether we rebuild here or our life’s journey takes us elsewhere, you are always my kaikaina, my beloved brother.