Flirting with Paradise

by Chris Keniston

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright 2018 Christine Baena

  Formatting by Dallas Hodge, Everything But The Book

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, redistributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, print, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Author.

  Indie House Publishing

  Closed Door Books

  by Chris Keniston

  Available on Kobo

  Farraday Country

  Adam

  Brooks

  Connor

  Declan

  Ethan

  Finn

  Grace

  Hannah

  Ian

  Jamison

  Keeping Eileen

  Aloha Series Sweet Edition

  Aloha Texas

  Almost Paradise

  Mai Tai Marriage

  Dive Into You

  Look of Love

  Love by Design

  Love Walks In

  Flirting with Paradise

  Surf's Up Flirts

  (Aloha Series Companions)

  Shall We Dance

  Love on Tap

  Head Over Heels

  Perfect Match

  Just One Kiss

  It Had to Be You

  Other Books

  by Chris Keniston

  Honeymoon Series

  Honeymoon for One

  Honeymoon for Three

  Family Secrets Novels

  Champagne Sisterhood

  The Homecoming

  Hope's Corner

  Original Aloha Series

  Waikiki Wedding

  More on Chris and her books can be found at www.chriskeniston.com

  Follow Chris on Facebook at ChrisKenistonAuthor

  or on Twitter @ckenistonauthor

  Chapter One

  "Would you two get a room?" Brad Peyton couldn't even hit the john without his high school buddy Forrest John Maplewood making a move on the girl. Some things never changed. Well, except one. This girl was John’s wife.

  In the hallway of the tastefully refurbished Hawaiian home, Ava sprang away from her husband. Much like a teen caught making out on Lovers' Lane by a cop with a flashlight, she patted her hair and smoothed her dress, a delightful rush of pink filling her cheeks. Brad could definitely see why John grinned like an unrepentant fool. They had a good thing going.

  "Billy and Angela should be here any minute. I’d better check on that lasagna." Ava slid out of her husband's grip and hurried to the kitchen.

  Brad only allowed his gaze to trail Ava as long as was socially acceptable to stare at his good friend's wife. It wasn't that he had a thing for her or anything; he just wondered vaguely if there would ever be a woman in his life who made him feel the way John Maplewood looked.

  Not that it mattered. At almost thirty-five years old, Brad wasn't ready to settle down. But watching John Maplewood, the master of charming and aloof, totally enraptured by one woman, made Brad question if it was time for him to reconsider. Ever since the festive wedding celebrations, with every visit to Kona, Brad expected to see their blissful union deteriorating. So far, the only conclusion he'd made was that, if he could package whatever these two had and sell it, he'd be richer than the British royal family. And happy as hell.

  "Wunkel John!" From the back hall a squealing toddler came hurrying as fast as she could waddle without breaking into a trot—a cat hung precariously in her grip. The poor animal's toes barely touched the floor, scurrying like a hamster on a wheel to keep from being dragged by the cutest little girl with enormous brown eyes.

  Brad found himself squatting to the child’s level, a small part of him hoping she'd come share with him, even if he hadn't a clue what to do with her.

  “Sorry about that.” A long-haired brunette came hurrying after the little spitfire. “She spotted the cat the second we were in the kitchen door and before I could take a breath she’d nabbed Peaches and was off.”

  Grinning, John hunched down in front of his niece. "You like Peaches, don’t you?”

  The sweet-faced child bobbed her head, squeezing the furry feline more tightly. John's eyes momentarily flared with the same concern Brad had felt that the animal might lash out. When the cat merely glanced up, somewhat forlorn, John blew out a steady breath of air and gently eased her hold on the animal.

  “We’ve tried to explain that Peaches is not a doll,” Angela shook her head, and leaned over her little girl. “If you insist on carrying Peaches, you need to hold all of her in your arms."

  Gently Wunkle John freed the feline from the little girl's near-strangling grasp and curled her into the child’s arms. “See, like this.”

  The friendlier stance lasted all of a few seconds before a squirming cat found herself once again in a choke hold with her toes barely touching ground.

  Billy looked pleadingly at his wife. Brad wasn’t sure but from the doe-eyed look on the man’s face, he suspected he didn’t want to be the one to take the cat away from his little girl. The former Navy EOD tech could dismantle bombs but didn’t want to tangle with a toddler. That a tiny little thing had a bruiser like Billy wrapped so easily around her finger teased a smile from Brad’s lips.

  “Time to let go, Sweetie.” Angela slid the kitty away from her daughter and with a single stroke along its back—no doubt in appreciation for not scratching the hell out of her daughter—the freed kitty darted away just as Billy whirled the laughing toddler into his arms.

  The next thing Brad knew, John had zoomed in, and, passing the girl back and forth between them, the two men seemed to be playing an animated version of here comes the plane. The spray of giggles that followed siphoned every last drop of stress from Brad's body and had him grinning like the fool on the hill. That pang of doubt that had tapped in Brad's gut a moment ago thumped a little harder now. Maybe he was missing out.

  "And this"—winning final custody of the little girl, Billy blew raspberries onto the swath of his daughter's exposed tummy—"is why I take advantage of every moment alone with my wife."

  “Sounds like you’re bucking for number two,” John teased.

  “Not a bad idea.” Billy winked at his own wife who flushed several shades of rose.

  Isabella scrambled from her dad's arms and, this time in a full trot, called happily after Peaches.

  The picture looked pretty. But the reality, for most people, was more akin to the real housewives of some depraved city. Screaming spouses, spoiled children, and pets that peed on the expensive leather furniture. John had married into an amazing family. His newfound Kona clan were a happy anomaly, unlikely to be repeated. And certainly not by Brad. No, he reminded himself. City lights, high-stake deals, and no-strings-attached women made up his happy world. Suburban domesticity was not for him. Nieces, nephews, or otherwise.

  "Just a few more minutes and we can sit down to dinner." Ava came back into the front room that doubled as a waiting area for her architectural offices and living room during non business hours. They had a small apartment upstairs, but Brad had learned on one of his earlier visits that when entertaining more than two, they took full advantage of the sprawl of the first floor.

  “Need help with anything?” John snatched his wife’s hand and squeezed.

  At first this humble domestic side of John had taken a little getting used to for Brad. John, like Brad, had been raised in a full-on mansion with servants and every opportunity for some serious spoiling. All grown up, the man had liv
ed in LA in a two story penthouse in a building John owned, and from what Brad remembered, he’d never seen the guy open the fridge door, never mind help with a dinner party. Somehow, John had slid easily into this cozy world of domestic middle class bliss. Brad wasn’t sure why it worked so well, but he had to admit, it was one of the most welcoming homes he’d had the pleasure of visiting.

  A flash of bright green and yellow frill darted past Brad from across the hall with little Isabella squealing gleefully in the wake of the cat now sporting a doll’s dress.

  Ava blew out an amused sigh. "Who knew when that scrawny stray adopted us she’d prove to be the most patient animal in the world.”

  “Apparently,” The little girl’s mother shook her head. “Izzy has clearly discovered the joy of motherhood. That poor cat has been dressed up, wrapped up, bottle-fed, burped…"

  "Burped?" Brad asked.

  "Very patient." John smiled.

  "Yes," Ava confirmed. "Very."

  John's hand fell casually on his wife's arm, but he continued to face Brad. "Didn't expect to see you in Kona so soon after your last visit. Problems with the Royal Palms?"

  “As a matter of fact, it’s doing so well that I just closed on another beachfront property.” All it had taken for Brad to fall in love with the relaxing Hawaiian lifestyle was a single visit to Kona for John and Ava’s wedding. When an opportunity to buy into a floundering hotel on the shores of Paradise landed at his feet, Brad didn’t hesitate to buy the Royal Palms.

  “I see.” John smiled.

  “Besides, I needed to work on my tan." Brad flashed his practiced boyish grin. Experience told him it still carried an impact, even if he was far from a boy. The truth was, most of the time one of the acquisitions team would do a final walk-through to evaluate staffing before implementing changes, but this was Paradise.

  Ava chuckled. By now she knew him almost as well as her husband did, and, like John, Brad was a no-nonsense businessman who hadn't worked on a tan since spring break during his college years. Truth was, he needed a breather, and Ava probably knew it.

  “You can’t blame the guy for not sending a grunt.” Billy came in from the kitchen with a beer in one hand and an ice filled glass of water for his wife.

  “Thanks, dear.” Angela took the glass and shared a quick peck on the lips with the former sailor. Maybe there was something in the water on this island. Brad made a mental note to stick with beer or fruit juice on this visit.

  "Whatever the reason,” Ava tipped her glass of wine at him, “it's always nice to see you."

  "Thanks." Spinning a coaster in his hand, he turned to face his longtime friend. "You'll get a kick out of this. Got a call yesterday from one of those reality TV shows."

  "As the bachelor or will you be fawning over the bachelorette?" Except for the one hand casually rubbing the inside of his wife's palm, John remained stiff and unmoving.

  "Ha, ha. Neither."

  “Well it can’t be Big Brother,” Billy laughed.

  John’s eyes widened a little. “Don’t tell me you’re crazy enough to run around the world with a backpack or live in the jungle with only a loin cloth?”

  Sputtering with reigned in amusement at his friend’s assumptions, Brad set down the coaster and hefted his ankle over his knee. "The show where the head of a company goes incognito to work."

  "Oh"—Angela rubbed her hands together—"I love that show. Especially the episodes when the boss makes sweeping changes that affect the whole company. Which of your companies will you infiltrate?"

  "None. Apparently the former owner of Paradise Shores Hotel had agreed to participate. I have no such inclination."

  "What do you mean, no?" Ava's brow crinkled in confusion.

  "Don't look so surprised. Why the heck would I want to wear a cheap wig, thick glasses and a fake nose? I already know everything I need to. Once we replace the existing personnel with my people and fully implement my resort standards, it won't take long to turn the outdated and glorified roadside inn into a five-star destination. This walk-through is just a technicality."

  "Technicality?" The tone of Ava's voice shifted to one she might use when dealing with an unusually dense underling. "The employees are people with families and bills to pay. They're more than numbers on a spreadsheet. It would do you good to see that for yourself. Besides, some of the TV show participants only need a new hairdo and—"

  "Off-the-rack clothes." Brad laughed at the idea. "Like I said, no thanks. I'm not putting on a dog-and-pony show for anyone."

  "You'd look good with a new nose," John deadpanned.

  "Let me know when you go undercover, and then maybe I'll think about it." If Ava and Angela had not been in the room, Brad would have offered a different comeback. Something hitting a little further below the belt.

  "I already have. Sort of.” John shrugged. "Remember I spent my vacation here in Kona as regular Forrest Maplewood, not CEO John Maplewood. Besides if that doesn’t count, Father had all of us work at least one summer in high school for his company. To appreciate the value of a buck. In his infinite wisdom, Ironman Maplewood decided I needed to work with the janitor. "

  Billy tipped his beer bottle at him. “That explains why you wield a mean mop.”

  “Ha ha,” John teased back.

  Angela shrugged at Brad “You have to admit. John’s got a point about his visit here. None of us had a clue he wasn’t just an ordinary construction guy.”

  "I think you should do it." Ava stared at Brad. "It will be good for you and the hotel."

  He could hear the dare in her tone, see it in her stare. Blast, she might not be a business mogul, but she had that don’t-mess-with-me stare down pat.

  "Why would I want to carve out a week or more of my already overloaded schedule? This place is no different than any other hotel we've bought out. We have a proven takeover strategy. I don't have to see the place to know what has to be done."

  "It's one thing to be presented with a shiny new toy. It's another thing to be the person who shines it." Ava crossed her arms, and Brad ignored the prideful smile John bestowed on his wife.

  "No," Brad repeated more sternly. The whole idea was absurd. By the time he had turned thirty, he'd bought and sold more companies than his old man had in his entire life. Brad didn't need to play doorman to evaluate the latest acquisition.

  "She's right." John Maplewood was an imposing man who could get his way with just a look.

  A look that didn't work on Brad. He shook his head.

  A buzzer sounded from the kitchen, and Ava pushed to her feet. "Dinner will be served in ten."

  “I’ll go get Izzy.” Angela stood and smiled at her sister-in-law. “The cat will be thrilled.”

  Crossing the room, Ava paused at Brad's side. "Every good CEO should know what it's like to be at the bottom of the totem pole." Then she walked away.

  Shifting his gaze from his wife’s departing back to his brother-in-law who merely shrugged and smiled, and finally settling on Brad, like the cocky jock he'd always been back in school, John cast a wry grin in his friend’s direction. "Afraid you can't cut it?"

  "That look doesn't work on me anymore."

  John's grin grew. He leaned back into the leather love seat. "I dare you. No TV cameras. No gimmicks. Just you, a false name, and two weeks punching a clock."

  This was ridiculous. Why was he even discussing something so absurd? All through high school, he and John had one-upped each other with dares and challenges. Stupid inconsequential things at first, like who could eat more hotdogs without barfing, but, by senior year, they'd coaxed each other into almost everything regardless of cost or risk, but that was years ago. They'd both moved on to the real world. Matured. But still, the look in John's gaze sent Brad spiraling back to their days in the hallowed halls of one of the East Coast’s most elite prep school, where pissing contests seemed to be the favored pastime. There was no reason for Brad to do this. None. He had nothing to prove. To anyone.

  John's smile slipp
ed, his expression blank, his thoughts unreadable, as he leaned forward, pinning Brad with his gaze. "Unless of course, you don’t think you’re man enough?”

  Billy burst out laughing, just as his wife and daughter walked into the room. “Oh to be a fly on the wall for this one.”

  Brad wasn’t going to do it. There was no reason. No reason at all. Except maybe the two men glaring at him.

  Chapter Two

  "The guests in Room 202 want you to see the hair left in the bathtub."

  Hope Gibbons nodded.

  "Room 215 says their trash hasn’t been emptied for two days and—"

  "Want me to take a look." She glanced through her scheduling charts. Lani was the housekeeper assigned to both those rooms. Damn. Hope wished it had been anyone but her. "I'll check it out."

  "There's more." Nina, Hope's best housekeeper and frequent message-taker, pushed away from the desk. "The school called."

  That had Hope's full attention. She had to remind herself it couldn't be serious or Nina would have tracked her down. That was a priority rule never to be broken. Nothing was more important than Jason.

  "They want you to schedule your parent-teacher meeting."

  Nervous anticipation whooshed out in a single breath. Short-staffed, she and just about every housekeeper at the hotel were working their asses off trying to keep up. "Thanks. I'll get back to them."

  "I can cover for you."

  "I don't dare. Not now." For the few months, everyone on staff had been on pins and needles since the announcement that the hotel was being sold. A few had already accepted new jobs, anticipating a heavy ax falling on the current employees. Rumor had it that, whenever EastCo Enterprises took over, out-with-the-old-and-in-with-the-new was the rule of thumb. But Hope was counting on her good record to keep this job.