Her Hawaiian Homecoming

“I’ve got to get this pipe fixed.” Dallas turned away from Kai, angrily clamping the wrench onto the pipe and giving it a twist.

“Hey, man. I know it’s not my business. You guys were so happy... I just... I mean, I’ve heard the rumors...”

“And you believe them?” Dallas wouldn’t be surprised. The Big Island might be the largest in the Hawaii chain, but it was still just like one big floating small town. No local got to keep secrets.

“Of course not.” Kai sounded offended. “After all you’ve done for me—for Jesse? Are you seriously asking me that question?”

Dallas felt rightfully put in his place.

“The rumors do make you sound like a real asshole,” Kai continued. “You should just tell me the real story, so I can set the record straight. You know I’ve had my share of women troubles.” Being one of the wealthiest and most famous surfers in the world came with a price: an endless parade of hot, gold-digging model girlfriends who made his life miserable.

Even though he knew Kai would understand the deal with Jennifer, would more than understand, he’d relate, he still couldn’t tell. Wouldn’t.

Kai looked at Dallas for a long time, waiting for an answer. Dallas focused on the pipe, twisting it hard.

“Not going to happen.” Dallas met Kai’s gaze, a stubborn set to his chin, the brim of his cowboy hat throwing a shadow across his face. He looked away first, assessing his plumbing handiwork. “There, all done.” He dropped the tool back into his box and snapped the metal lid shut.

“Fine,” Kai said. “Aunt Kaimana says you shouldn’t leave crap like that bottled up inside. It’ll cause cancer.”

“Oh? Is that an old Hawaiian proverb?”

“With her, everything is a Hawaiian proverb,” Kai said and grinned. “She’s sticking up for you, by the way. She says there are at least two sides to every story.”

“Aunt Kaimana is a wise woman.” That was all Dallas planned to say about what happened with Jennifer.

“Uh-huh. By the way, Jesse said she doesn’t care if you get back with Jennifer or not, but that you shouldn’t be single.”

“Why not?”

“She says it’s tacky to be a tourist attraction. If you keep sleeping with all the girls on spring break, then she’s going to start printing up brochures.”

Dallas felt a reluctant chuckle pop up in his throat. Jesse would do it, too. She was not the kind of woman to make an idle threat.

“I don’t sleep with college kids,” Dallas corrected. “I like women with more experience. Besides, I hardly ever take them home.” He had drinks with tourists, and once, only once, he’d hooked up with one, but by and large, he usually just drove them home and tucked their drunk, slurring selves safely into their hotel beds—fully clothed. He thought about the marketing executive last weekend who’d been so intent on learning all about the aloha spirit until she’d had her fourth mai tai.

“You don’t take them to your house because you probably hang out at their resort. Easier to sneak out in the morning.”

Dallas said nothing. If Kai wanted to believe he was getting laid every weekend, then he’d just leave it at that.

Kai shook his head, his mirrored sunglasses catching the light of the sun. “Aren’t you too old to be chasing tourists? I am, and I’m a year younger than you.”

“Tourists are safer than locals.” Dallas swiped at the sweat on his neck.

“Why? Because they don’t stick around?” Kai cocked an eyebrow, but Dallas just half shrugged one shoulder. The truth was, the locals had heard all the rumors, and he knew for sure that plenty of them believed the lies Jennifer spread.

Kai laughed and gave his friend a hard shove. “You’re not in your twenties anymore. You need to evolve, man.”

“I tried evolving. It didn’t work for me.” Dallas thought about Jennifer again, and he felt a cold, hard pit in his stomach. “Anyway, I’ve got to clean up before Misu’s granddaughter gets here. What’s her name? Alani, I think.”

“You mean Allie.” Kai whistled and shook his head. “I haven’t seen that girl in years.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, we grew up as neighbors, went to kindergarten together. She moved to the mainland for third grade. She liked mangos. That’s what I remember. And she was a super tomboy, climbed every tree we had.”

“Misu has a picture of her as a girl on her refrigerator.” In that grainy old photo, Allie was a slim, lanky thing, her dark, nearly black hair in a high ponytail, standing next to Misu, who had on a big straw-brimmed hat. Misu kept the picture on a magnetic frame on her refrigerator. “Still doesn’t explain why she missed Misu’s funeral.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on her. I’m sure she had her reasons. She had it really rough when she was little. There was a bad car accident. Her dad died. It was a miracle she survived. Anyway, she and her mom moved to the mainland after that.”

“He died?” Dallas knew how that felt. His father had passed on when he was just nineteen. But as a kid of...what, eight? That must’ve been rough.

The sound of tires on the gravel driveway interrupted the conversation, and both men turned, staring at the path, half hidden by the tall, treelike coffee plants growing in thick rows together. A small, compact white rental car gently nosed its way up the drive. Allie, Dallas assumed.

Linus the goat ambled around the corner, and the driver, skittish, veered hard right—too sharply. The tiny compact tire went off the driveway into the ruts on the side of the road with a hard thump, and splattered the trunks of the coffee trees with mud. Dallas straightened his hat as he walked out to save the damsel in distress.

That was when she opened the door and got out to inspect the stuck wheel.

This was no gangly preadolescent girl, like the one in the dated photo on Misu’s fridge. This was a full-blown woman, late twenties, with long, lean legs in formfitting jeans, and thick raven-black hair that fell long and straight past her shoulders. She did look like Misu’s kin, had the same chin and pronounced cheekbones. But she was clearly an ethnic mix: not wholly Japanese, but not wholly something else, either. She had flawless olive skin and dark eyes, her thick lashes magnified by mascara. Her thin, just-defined arms that jutted from her short-sleeved T-shirt showed just how fit she was. She had a sweater wrapped around her tiny waist, a wool remnant from Chicago, no doubt, as were her high-heeled leather ankle boots. She flicked a long, shiny strand of hair from her eyes, and as she inspected the damage, the muddied wheel sank three inches into the dark muck. If she were out on the main road, at least three cars would’ve stopped, men stumbling over themselves trying to help her.

“Wow, that is not the Allie I remember,” Kai said, voice low.

Dallas didn’t like the way Kai said that, and suddenly he felt like calling dibs, as if they were at a bar.

She hadn’t seen them yet. Dallas wondered what she would do now. A gorgeous girl like that probably wasn’t used to fending for herself. No doubt, she’d be on the phone instantly, asking for help.

Instead, she looked at the wheel, and then, without missing a beat, ducked inside the car to put the gearshift in Neutral. She walked around the car in her sexy but decidedly impractical heels, the black leather boot soles sinking into the mud as she went. She put two perfectly manicured hands on the back bumper and gave it her best push. He had to admire her spirit, even if the effort was futile. She probably couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds. One of her boots slipped, but she caught herself on the bumper.

“That’s the Allie I remember,” Kai said. “Never afraid of a little dirt.” Kai stepped forward. “Allie!” he called, drawing her attention. The woman’s head whipped up, and she squinted. “It’s Kai! Remember me? Kai Brady?”

“Kai,” Allie repeated, slowly at first and then once more, recognition dawning. “The boy who’d always steal my mango candy.”

Kai laughed. “Guilty,” he said, and wrapped his old friend in a hug.

“You’ve grown up!”

“So have you.” Kai backed away. Dallas found he couldn’t take his eyes off Allie. He’d seen his share of pretty girls, but something about her was just...striking. Flawless skin, a heart-shaped mouth and perfect cheekbones. Her big dark eyes turned to study him, and he felt rooted to the spot. “Uh...” She paused, her eyes flicking down to his bare chest, and it was then he remembered he’d forgotten to put his shirt back on. Where were his manners?

“This is Dallas,” Kai said. “He’s a good guy, once you get past the cowboy act.”

“It’s no act,” Dallas drawled, glad he could interrupt the little reunion. He wanted more of Allie’s attention. “I was raised on a ranch in Texas. I’d offer to shake your hand, but mine are...” He opened his palms to show the dirt from the water tank pipes.

“So you’re Dallas.” She said his name in a guarded way, which made him think they might have gotten off on the wrong foot, probably because he was nonfamily included in the will. His own father didn’t believe in giving out land to anyone but family and he had a very narrow definition of what that meant. He couldn’t blame her for thinking the same.

“Can we give you a hand?” Dallas asked.

“That would be great,” Allie said, but she looked at Kai. Dallas tried not to take offense as he rounded the back of the car. Still, he had to wonder, was there something between them? He watched the two carefully, but saw nothing hinting at sexual tension. She looked at him like a long-lost brother. Good.

“We’ve got this,” Kai assured her.

“Go on and get in and ease on to the gas when I tell you,” Dallas said.

Allie left her post at the back bumper and wobbled her way to the driver’s seat, her heels covered in mud. He watched the firm bend of her rear as she ducked into the car.

Dallas grabbed a huge leaf that hung near his head from a nearby banana tree and put it in front of the back tire for a little grip. Kai stood at the other side of the bumper.

“Okay, ready... Give it some gas.” Dallas put his shoulder into the back of the car and heaved with all his might. Kai did the same. Allie revved the engine, the wheel spinning and flicking serious mud all over his favorite pair of Wranglers. He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, digging his worn cowboy boots into the mud for leverage. On this push, the car gave a little. He leaned in, and the car broke free of the rut, rolled over the leaf and on to the main driveway again. Kai gave a whoop.

“Teamwork!” he said, and gave Dallas a high five.

She paused on the road, and he jogged up beside her driver’s-side window. She gave him a sparkling smile, showing even white teeth and a dimple in her right cheek. Right then, he could see a little of Misu in her, in the childlike glee of her expression. This is what it looked like when her guard came down, he thought. He felt a little light-headed. He wanted to reach straight into that front seat and kiss this girl on the lips.

This was not going to do at all. He couldn’t be lusting after Misu’s granddaughter, for heaven’s sake. It wouldn’t be right. Misu wasn’t here to give her blessing, and besides, Allie still had serious questions to answer.

“Thanks, Dallas,” she said now, smiling even more broadly. Her dazzling smile made him forget just what those questions were. “Where should I park?”

Dallas realized the only real pressing question on his mind right at this moment was what that tight little body looked like without clothes on. Kai nudged him, hard. He ignored his friend.

“Uh...right there,” he said, pointing to a spot near the water tank, recovering himself, even as he tried to get his dirty thoughts under control. “Misu’s house is the yellow one there.” She nodded and rolled up the window, maneuvering the car to the spot.

“I thought you didn’t like locals,” Kai murmured at his shoulder.

“I don’t.” Dallas watched her brake lights flash. “She’s not a local.”

“Allie is like a little sister to me. Just like ohana. Family.” Kai studied his friend. “Careful, Dallas. Don’t look so relieved. She’s not someone you play with. You get me?”

“I thought you said you didn’t believe the rumors.”

“I don’t. But what I know as fact is that you haven’t been yourself since Jennifer.”

That was the understatement of the year. Before Jennifer, he would’ve never spent his time babysitting drunk tourists. But a lot of things had changed since then.

“Dallas, I mean it,” Kai grumbled, voice low. “You have to promise me you’ll stay away from Allie.” Kai held Dallas by the upper arm, his grip a little tighter than it should have been.

“Kai, come on.”

“Dallas. I’m asking you. As a friend. Do not play with that girl unless you plan on marrying her. And even then... Just don’t mess around.”

“I...” Dallas watched Allie hop out of the car, her lean form tight as she made her way to the trunk.

“Dallas?”

“Fine, Kai. Okay, I promise.” Allie bent over the back of the open trunk, showing her perfectly rounded assets at the best possible angle. Dallas instantly regretted his promise.

“I’ll get that,” he said, offering to carry the bag.

“You don’t have to.” Allie looked at him suspiciously, clutching the suitcase tightly.

“I’ll take that,” Kai said, moving between them, and Allie handed Kai the bag, who took it up the porch steps and avoided Dallas’s eyes. He hadn’t seen Kai so protective of someone since, well, his sister, Jesse. Kai wasn’t kidding about her being family. He followed Kai up the porch and slipped the key into Misu’s lock.

“I’ve got to go check on Jesse at the coffee shop,” Kai said. “It was good to see you, Allie. Though I’m really sorry about Misu.”

A shadow of sadness passed across her face. “Thanks, Kai.” Allie smiled warmly at him, and Dallas felt a little tinge of jealousy. He wanted all of Allie’s smiles.

“You remember Jesse?”

Allie’s eyes lit up. “Of course! She hated pink!”

“That’s her, and she still does.” Kai grinned. “Jesse still lives next door with Auntie. We’ll have you over for dinner sometime soon.” Kai backed off the porch. “Or come for a free cup of coffee at Hula’s. And if this guy gives you any trouble, you call me.” Kai pointed his house key at Dallas, a warning.

“I won’t be trouble,” Dallas promised.

“You’d better not be.” Kai wasn’t kidding. Kai was normally a lighthearted, easygoing guy, and when he got serious, which was hardly ever, Dallas paid attention.

“I’d love to come over for dinner and see Jesse. Good to see you, Kai.” Allie waved. Dallas had left Misu’s place exactly as it had been when she’d gone into the hospital after her sudden and devastating heart attack. All of her furniture and most of her clothes were still here. The simple overstuffed white linen couch she loved sat in the middle of the living room, draped with the pink-and-yellow Hawaiian-breadfruit quilt. The kitchen was dated but clean, its white-tiled floor and older appliances ready for use, and the breakfast nook nearby, which acted as her dining room. Little had changed in twenty years. Dallas knew Allie had been here once. That photograph had been taken right on Misu’s porch, so she’d been here then anyway. Her house would’ve looked much the same.

Allie went straight to the kitchen, running her finger along the old yellow countertop, stopping at the refrigerator. She plucked the photo of her and Misu from the freezer door and stared at it, running a finger over Misu’s face.

“She was a good woman,” Dallas felt the need to say.

“She was,” Allie agreed, her voice sounding far away. She put the photo back and blinked as she looked around the room. She gave the small house a quick tour. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Don’t you remember?” he asked her.

Allie shook her head.

“It’s outside,” he said.

“Outside?” she echoed.

* * *

ALLIE STOOD AND stared at her only working shower.

It was outside, in a cabana with walls but no roof. She plopped down her bag and stared.

How on earth had this little tidbit about her grandmother’s house escaped her? She used to live here when she was little, that much she remembered. But how old had she been? Seven? Eight? That was before... Well, before the car accident, before she and her mom moved to the mainland, where it had been just the two of them against the world. Of course, with her mom working two jobs, it had pretty much been Allie all on her own. Allie preferred it that way, actually. Anytime she depended on anyone—like Jason—they failed her.

“So if you want to talk about the estate, I’d be happy to...” Dallas stood by her, lingering near the door. Allie did not turn to look at him. If she did, she’d stare at his muscled chest, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t have time for guys who looked as if they belonged in a sexy-cowboy calendar. She had sworn off men this time, possibly for good. The fact that she was very aware of his every movement made her feel jumpy and anxious. Her mind might want to be done with men, but clearly her body wasn’t. It had other ideas about what she ought to do with Dallas McCormick.

“I just want to shower.”

“Oh...sure.” Dallas paused, as if waiting for her to invite him in. She nearly barked a laugh out loud. With abs like that, and those crystal-blue eyes, he was probably used to women throwing themselves at him all the time. Well, not this one, buddy.

“I’d like some privacy.” Allie was proud that she made it sound official.

“Sure thing, ma’am.” Dallas grinned, unoffended, and then tipped his hat at her as he backed out of the cabana. The door slapped shut behind him, and Allie moved to secure the bolt. With Dallas and his broad, chiseled chest out of the room, Allie felt as though she could breathe for the first time. She stared up to where the ceiling should be but saw only blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds.

“How are you supposed to take a shower when it’s raining?” she muttered to herself.

Allie whipped up her thick jet-black hair off her neck, panting in the Hawaiian humidity as sticky sweat trickled down the nape of her neck.

All she remembered from her childhood at Grandma Misu’s were endless afternoons building sand castles on the pristine white beach about a mile away, and of Misu’s sticky sweet homemade mochi rice cakes and mouthwatering teriyaki chicken. She had fond memories of Misu, but hadn’t seen her grandmother in years. Money had always been tight growing up. She and her mom had barely made rent, much less managed to scrape together enough for two plane tickets to Hawaii. But if Allie was honest, since her father died, she’d been in no hurry to come back. For everyone else, Hawaii might be paradise, but for her, it represented just bad memories.

Still, Allie felt a pang of guilt; she should’ve come for her grandmother’s funeral. But it had all been too overwhelming—dealing with Jason and the called-off wedding. She’d been in no shape to travel anyway. She hadn’t been able to get out of bed, much less book a flight.

Jason was just one more person she couldn’t depend on, Allie thought. She tried her best not to slide into a pity party: girl loses her dad in a car accident at age eight, is left with a hardly there, working-two-jobs single mom and then a string of unreliable boyfriends...and now Jason. She hated feeling sorry for herself, but sometimes it beckoned like a warm, cuddly robe. Sometimes she just wanted to slip into it for a little while.

She kept coming back to the single fact that she should’ve known Jason would do this. He’d been her first really serious relationship, but she’d had plenty of short-term boyfriends who’d disappointed in various ways. How could she have been so blind?

Denial. It was probably how she’d spent two years with Jason and never even had an inkling about his penchant for S and M. Granted, he’d been bossy and controlling most of their relationship: always wanting to be the one to decide where they ate, what they did on weekends and even weighing in on what she wore. Sometimes it had grated, but most of the time she’d been fine with just going along. Happy to do what made him happy. He’d always been decidedly in control in the bedroom, but he’d never hit her, not once.

She’d thought she knew him better than anyone, but it turned out she didn’t know him at all.

Just because she didn’t like being beaten like a piñata during sex, she thought bitterly. She was sorry, but she liked pleasure with her sex, not pain. Why did that make her boring?

She blinked fast. No more pity party. That’s quite enough of that, Allie. She should look at the bright side—now she was back on her own. I’ll never have my heart broken again, because there’s no way I’m letting anyone within a five-block radius of it. Allie was officially done with men.

CHAPTER TWO

STANDING IN THE HOT, open-aired shower, Allie fanned herself. Jet-lagged and sweaty, all she wanted to do was get clean, change into some shorts and track down the nearest real estate agent. She’d use the money to travel the world by herself. She didn’t know where she’d go, but she’d figure it out.

She glanced up at the blue sky and blinked.

No roof? Who did that? She wondered if anyone would buy a place with an outdoor bathroom. Allie sighed and turned the knobs of the shower, half expecting them not to work. Water sputtered out, and surprisingly, it felt warm, but then again, the air was a balmy eighty-two degrees. Everything would feel warm, even at room temperature. Allie shrugged out of her too-hot jeans, T-shirt and wool sweater and stepped into the warm shower, letting the water rinse over her. She exhaled. Remember the positives, she thought. You’re not stuck in subzero weather in that blizzard you left back home, and once the property is sold, you can travel for a year. That was all she had to do: keep moving. People couldn’t disappoint you if you didn’t let them.

Allie rinsed her hair in the warm water and sighed, almost forgetting about the lack of roof when a bright red blur zoomed past her, practically thumping her head.

She jumped, startled, until she saw the intruder: a small, brilliant red bird with black-trimmed feathers, its beak thin and scooped downward. It looked as if a cardinal had mated with a hummingbird, a species she’d never seen before. Definitely not in Chicago anymore, she thought. The bird cocked its head to one side and eyed her.

Allie felt like jumping out of the shower and running back to the house, but instead, she shook the shower curtain and the bird flew away.

Wonder what he was doing in here anyway, she thought, rinsing off. She shut down the water and stepped out, reaching for a fluffy white towel. She grabbed one from a hook and wrapped it around her chest, tucking it under her armpits, and then she wrapped her head up in a towel, turban-style, and looked at herself in the foggy mirror. She swiped at it with one hand, wondering what that brown stripe was along the top of her head towel, and that was when she realized the brown stripe was moving.

It was a centipede—a huge, disgusting, hundred-leg brown centipede, nearly a foot long and thicker than her thumb.

Allie did what any reasonable city girl would do: she screamed.

She flicked her head downward, and in the same instant, bounced against the thin door and tumbled outside, barely keeping the small lightweight towel wrapped around her as the turban fell to the ground. In her panic, Allie couldn’t see where the centipede went. Was it tangled in her hair? Running down her back?

It was a friggin’ monster, that was all she knew. She’d never seen a bug that big in Chicago. Ever.

Then she saw the horrible insect crawling in the black lava dirt. She felt relief: it wasn’t on her! And yet she felt complete terror as she realized the huge bug was headed straight for her bare toes, its huge menacing back pincher stinger wagging as it went.