Not Always Happenstance (Power of the Matchmaker)

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Not Always Happenstance (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 11

by Rachael Anderson


  The airborne tube hit his hand and spun across the floor, and Easton half coughed, half laughed before he recovered. She’d seen right through him.

  Time to cut his losses. “The truth?”

  “Please.”

  Tire forgotten, Easton stood and shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts. “Yes, I know how to surf, though my skill level is average at best. I also know how to long board, do a pretty solid handstand on a paddleboard if the water is smooth, and if you give me a pair of decent fins, I can hold my own body surfing as well. Oh, and I can build the coolest sand sculpture you’ve ever seen. My sea turtle won second place in a contest once.”

  “Only second?”

  “First place was a mermaid castle, and a six-year-old girl was the judge.”

  Lani’s lips twitched and she ducked her head to the side to hide a full-on smile. And then she surprised him. “Okay, you’re invited. Meet me by the shed in two hours.”

  “Really?” Easton hadn’t expected honesty to work at all, especially not this fast.

  She let out a breath and rested her palms over a stack of paperwork as she looked up at him. “I like real people, Easton. People with strengths and weaknesses, highs and lows, likes and dislikes. If you don’t like to fish, say it. If you know how to surf, admit it. And if you’re really interested in being my friend, then respect me enough to act like it.”

  A lump formed in Easton’s throat as he realized something. Lani could banter and tease and volley with the best of them, but at her heart, she was truly genuine and had no patience with anyone who wasn’t willing to be the same.

  Every instinct told Easton to slowly back away and start hunting for another girl who wouldn’t make things as hard or complicated or real. She’s not worth the effort or the exposure, he tried to convince himself. But deep inside, Easton was beginning to think that maybe she was.

  He crouched down and retrieved the tire tube from the floor before backing toward the door.

  “See you in two.”

  The morning downpour paved the way for a glorious afternoon. Lani lay back on her surfboard and closed her eyes, feeling the sun warm her body and the rise and fall of the ocean remove the clutter from her mind. It had been too long since she’d felt this relaxed.

  “Here it comes!” Ahe called from about six yards away.

  Lani’s legs squeezed the board, and she sat up and looked back. A large wave was beginning to form, so she prodded her board into place and paddled with slow, deliberate strokes. The water beneath her began to swell and rush backward, and a moment later, when her board lifted as the wave began to take over, Lani knew her timing had been perfect. A couple more strokes and she popped up, leaning to the left to get her board in trim.

  Ahe yelled from behind, cheering her on. She crouched low, feeling the exhilaration that always came with the rush of wind, the smell of sea, and the simple fact that she was riding on top of the water. The wave curled over her, encasing her in a tunnel of greens, blues, and whites. Surfing was the only place Lani felt truly at one with the elements. You had to be at one with them or the ride would end in a painful surge of a crushing wave smashing you into the ocean floor.

  She crouched lower, directing her board toward the open air. It grew closer and closer until she was out.

  Her hands flew overhead as she shouted her enthusiasm.

  An answering yelp echoed her, and Lani glanced over her shoulder to see Ahe coming off another wave, not far behind. She dropped to her knees and spun off the board into the knee-high water, then waited for Ahe to catch up. As he approached, she felt a surge of gratitude for her friend. Over the past five years, he’d taught her how to read the rhythm of the ocean, to let go, to live. Maybe that’s why she’d resisted leaving. She didn’t want to reverse anything in her life, only continue to move forward.

  “That was one sweet ride, yeah?” Ahe said.

  “You were right,” Lani agreed. “The waves have been epic. Thanks for thinking of me.”

  “I always think of you, Lani.” He said it with a teasing lilt to his voice. But the appreciation in his gaze told her a different story—one that made her worry. “Want to go again?”

  She nodded toward the beach. “I’m pretty wiped, and I’m sure Easton wants to take a turn. Mind giving him a few pointers?”

  He snorted. “The haole? Why you gotta bring him anyway?”

  “You’re not jealous are you, Ahe?”

  Any other time, Lani could have easily predicted his answer. He would have laughed and said, “Who—me? Jealous? In yo dreams, sistah.” But today he surprised her. He kept quiet. And although a hint of a smile stayed perched on his lips, his eyes focused on Easton, and what she saw in them could definitely be termed as jealousy.

  Ahe stopped walking and turned to Lani. “Auntie Cora told me ’bout Cali-boy,” he said.

  Lani sighed and adjusted her board so it wasn’t digging into her armpit. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised.” Ahe had always tolerated Derek, saying he was an okay haole, but no match for Lani. He never seemed to take their relationship too seriously, which probably explained why he’d never had a problem with Derek. With Easton, though, Ahe hadn’t even tried to tolerate him.

  “You break up with Cali-boy for this guy?” Ahe nodded toward Easton.

  Lani nearly laughed, then shook her head. “No, not for that guy. Not for any guy. You were right. Puna was right. And Derek wasn’t right—for me, that is. But I think he knew that too.”

  Ahe nodded, apparently content with her explanation, and as they walked up the beach again and he looked Easton’s way, his expression was a little more… tolerant. Lani hid a smile. Ahe and his family had always looked out for Puna, and ever since Lani had come, they’d looked out for her too. They’d taught her the true meaning of ‘ohana.

  When they reached Easton, Lani dropped one end of her board into the sand and gave it a pat. “You ready to give it a try? Ahe said he’d love to give you some pointers.”

  The expression on Ahe’s face belied her words, and she fought back a smile.

  Easton picked himself up, brushed the sand from his shorts, and accepted Lani’s board before shooting a wary look at Ahe. “Mahalo, but I think I’ve got it.”

  That earned him a look of grudging respect from Ahe. “You surf?”

  “Not like you two, but yeah. It’s been a while though.”

  Ahe watched his friend, Paavo, catch a wave before he let out a heavy breath and gave Lani a look that said, You owe me for this one. “C’mon, haole. This break won’t last forever.”

  “You’re not planning to drown me, are you?”

  Ahe actually laughed, as did Lani. “Nah. Not today, anyway.”

  Easton grabbed Lani’s board and grinned. “In that case, what are we waiting for?”

  The two men jogged off, and Lani sank down on her towel to watch. Ahe, tall, dark, and well-built, and Easton a little less tall, a little less dark, and a little less well-built. But as they dove into the waves and began to paddle out, she noticed that her mind, gaze, and thoughts followed Easton. It had been fun, hanging out with him today. He’d been mostly quiet, seemingly content to enjoy the sand, water, and sun, and, like he’d promised, hadn’t flirted at all.

  She tried to tell herself that she was glad, but truthfully, she missed it. She’d always thought the friend zone meant the safe zone, but now that her feelings went beyond friendship, she was quickly learning that when it came to Easton Allard, there was no safe zone.

  As the days and weeks came and went, most of Lani’s reservations about Easton went with them. He became exactly what he promised he would—her friend, and only her friend. He still teased, sometimes flirted, but mostly asked a lot of questions—about her life growing up, her family, her years in college, and Hawaii.

  Easton was more open with her as well, telling her about Boston and his sisters, nieces, and nephews. He’d graduated with an Associate’s from Boston University then decided college wasn’t fo
r him. So he’d quit and began traveling. After that, his history became more vague and spotty. What little she had gotten out of him, Lani pieced together that he’d worked a lot of odd jobs to pay for his new lifestyle, but he’d finally gotten to a point where he didn’t have to do that much anymore. He’d visited almost every continent at least once, including Antarctica, and still wasn’t satisfied. The way he talked about his travels, with awe and reverence, left Lani feeling like she was missing out on something incredible.

  She’d spent a few hours searching Google, trying to figure out his online identity, but Easton, it seemed, was good at keeping secrets. Puna had once told her that everyone had good things about them and bad things about them, but the scale always tipped one way or the other. The trick was finding out which way it tipped—toward mostly good or mostly bad.

  Despite his secrets, Lani was beginning to think that Easton was mostly good.

  Lani stood on the threshold of the Hema room in shock. Two days. Those horrible, party-driven college students had only been here two days, and they’d completely trashed the room. And what was that odor? Ugh. She crossed the room to open windows and had to step over plates and Styrofoam containers with food spilling out of them, broken soda and beer bottles, couch cushions, and garbage and more garbage. And oh, that smell. Where was it coming from? One look in the bathroom and she found her answer. Someone had puked in the bathtub and had left another surprise in the toilet. She quickly flushed it and turned on the fan, then slammed the door and ran out of the room before she gagged.

  She’d been expecting to find a mess, but not of this caliber. How could anyone live like this or be so disrespectful? She didn’t understand it. Nor did she know how she would get this cleaned in time for the guests who were scheduled to check in later that afternoon. Puna was out visiting friends and wouldn’t be back for hours, so it was up to Lani to get it done. But how? She’d need at least twenty-four hours and professional cleaning equipment to get the room even close to ready in time.

  Unable to stand the stench any longer, Lani went out to the lanai and inhaled the lush, just-after-rain smell. Then she looked around at the overturned chairs and dried food and sighed. She had no choice but to try to get it ready. And she began by righting all the chairs.

  “Ho, Lani!” Ahe’s voice called from across the lawn. “I got mahi mahi today! Your favorite.”

  Lani’s shoulders sagged as she looked at him. Ahe was a skilled fisherman and earned his meager living by selling his catch to Travaasa and the few other hotels near Hāna. But he always kept the best for family—Puna and Lani included. And they returned the good deed with loaves of bread—from banana and pumpkin to whole wheat and sourdough. It didn’t matter what kind she made, Ahe’s family loved them all.

  Today, however, not even the thought of mahi mahi could cheer her up.

  “That sounds great, Ahe. Mahalo.” She tried to unflatten her tone, but it didn’t rise to the occasion.

  Ahe jogged up the steps and frowned at her. “Why the stinkface? It’s mahi mahi!”

  “No, it’s not that.” She gestured toward the open door and grimaced. “It’s that.”

  Ahe took one look inside and his usual smile vanished. “No—fo real? Who did this?” he growled, slamming his right fist into the palm of his left hand. “Where are they? When I get through with them, they wish they be maki die dead.” He started past her, apparently ready to hunt down the stupid college boys that he’d never even met.

  Lani stayed him with a hand on his bicep and shook her head. When provoked, the mild-tempered Ahe could turn into a rhino, ready to trample anyone who messes with him or his family. If she let him go, he’d spend the rest of the day scouring the island until he found the reprobates and then beat all three of them within inches of their lives.

  As upset as Lani was, she didn’t want it to come to that. “They’re long gone and not worth the effort it would take to track them down.”

  Ahe didn’t agree. “They need to pay for this, Lani.”

  “They already have, in the form of a cleaning deposit. Please, let’s leave it at that. I never want to see their faces again—especially not if they’re broken, black and blue.”

  He didn’t look happy about letting anyone off the hook, but he nodded out of respect to her.

  “Mahalo for the fish,” she said. “I really am grateful. Would you mind putting it in the fridge for me? I have new guests arriving this afternoon and have a lot of work to do before then.”

  “I’ll find Taavatti. He works nights at Aloha and can get a carpet cleaner.”

  She smiled her gratitude. “I would love you forever if you did that. Tell him I’ll pay him double whatever he charges.”

  He waved away her offer as though it annoyed him. “Taavatti’s ‘ohana. When you gonna learn that you don’t pay ‘ohana? I’ll be back in a quick one.” He bounded down the stairs faster than he’d come.

  Lani quickly uncoiled the garden hose and turned it on, directing the less-than-powerful spray at the dried-on bits of food on the patio floor.

  “Ey, haole!” Ahe’s voice came again from farther away, and Lani glanced up to see that he wasn’t talking to her. Ahe was yelling toward the bungalow.

  “You talking to me?” came Easton’s dry reply from somewhere behind a cluster of palms. Probably the hammock—his favorite place to write.

  “You the only haole I see.”

  “I figured,” said Easton. “What’s up?”

  He pointed back at her. “Lani needs you. The Hema room is pilau.”

  Lani bit her tongue to keep from yelling at Ahe to shut up. As much as she appreciated him looking out for her, she didn’t appreciate having Easton involved. He was a paying guest—not family and certainly not someone who should be asked to help.

  Unfortunately, Easton was already on his way over. She watched him from the corner of her eye as she continued to spray the floor. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and waited expectantly.

  “Ahe said you needed me?”

  “He was wrong. I’m fine.”

  “You look stressed.”

  “Really, I’m good.”

  He leaned his arm casually across the banister and pinned her with a stare. “Ahe instigated a conversation with me. He wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t important. So spill.”

  Ignoring him, Lani focused on a particularly stubborn spot, rubbing it with her foot. But her flimsy flip flop was no match for the dried barbeque sauce, and when the sole bent in half, driving her toe into the hard wood, she threw the hose down in frustration, ready to burst into tears. The lanai alone would take hours to scrub clean.

  Easton walked to her side and put a hand on her arm. His voice was gentle when he said, “Hey, what’s wrong?” Before she could answer, he looked beyond her and his eyes widened. He slipped past, planting both palms against the doorframe as he assessed the damage.

  “Are you kidding me?” he hissed, his tone sharper than she’d ever heard. Through the thin fabric of his Kelly-green t-shirt, his muscles tensed. Then his fingers balled into fists and his jaw tightened. For a moment, Lani expected an outburst like Ahe’s, but he didn’t say anything. His shoulders rose and fell as he drew in one steadying breath, then another.

  Slowly, he turned around. A hard look glinted in his eyes, making Lani grateful his anger wasn’t directed at her. One more deep breath, and he said, “Where do you keep your garbage bags?”

  “No. You’re not going to—”

  “Where. Do you keep. Your garbage bags?” Apparently, he meant business and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Lani pointed around the side of the house. “There’s a supply closet over there. I’ve already unlocked it.”

  Without saying anything, he walked over and pulled a few garbage bags from a box, tugged on some white Latex gloves and strode past her into the room. He didn’t even complain about the smell, just got to work.

  Lani located a scrub brush and dropped down on her knees, attac
king the wood floor with gusto. The dried food had absorbed some of the water, making it clean up a little quicker. By the time she’d finished with the lanai and loaded a bucket with cleaning supplies from the closet, Easton had filled two bags with garbage and another with soiled towels and bed linens. He’d also put a load in the washing machine and was busy scrubbing the kitchen sink with his back to her. The room even smelled a little better.

  From the doorway, Lani felt the first glimmer of hope that they could get it ready in time. As she watched Easton, a lump lodged in her throat and warmth radiated from her heart. Never before had a man looked more attractive than Easton did at that moment. Unable to resist the impulse, Lani set her bucket down and came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “Mahalo,” she whispered, touching her cheek to his shoulder blade.

  Easton’s movements stilled, making Lani worry she’d crossed a line she shouldn’t have. She began to pull away, but his hand covered hers, keeping her there. An outbreak of goosebumps flowed from her fingertips through the rest of her body, and her heart skittered out of control. Would he turn around? Put his arms around her? She didn’t know if she wanted him to or not.

  “I’d help out a lot more often if this is the kind of thanks I get,” he said, smiling over his shoulder at her.

  She chuckled and pulled free. “Are you flirting with me?”

  “I can’t. I’m not allowed.”

  “Well, maybe sometimes it’s okay.”

  He shut off the water and turned around, folding his arms across his chest. “This is an interesting development.”

  “I said sometimes.” She grabbed her bucket and headed for the bathroom, praying the fan had done its job.

  It still smelled awful.

  Easton muttered something and his footsteps left the house, returning several moments later. A few minutes after that “Mysterious Ways” by U2 floated into the room. Lani smiled, allowing the beat to bolster her mood even more. When she heard Easton’s voice join in with Bono’s, she pushed up from the tub she’d been scouring and peeked out the door. Easton moved to the rhythm of the music as he danced around the kitchen island, wiping down the counter.

 

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