by Mimi Barbour
Minutes later, their driver reappeared carrying a fancy blue coffee mug and waved it at them. “All clear.” He grinned at Alia in the mirror and turned to speak directly to Kean. “It’s the coffee, kid. Don’t ever get hooked on this stuff.”
The garage door rose and they backed out slowly, then they pulled out onto the street and drove the speed limit to Sloan’s house.
The driver helped them from the car, took out their suitcases and passed her his card when she paid him. “Just in case you’re ever in a spot and need to lose anyone else on the road.”
She checked the name on the card. “Hey, thanks, Koko. You never know.” She slipped it into the side pocket of her handbag, nodded her appreciation and shook his hand, taking no offense when he held on a few seconds longer than necessary. She just gave one more shake, grinned into his concerned expression and quickly took the larger two cases, leaving Kean to get his smaller two.
There was a lot of noise coming from around the back of the house, Hawaiian music playing loudly, voices laughing… the distinctive sounds of a party going on. Kean hesitated for a few seconds before following her along the winding path toward the garden. It gave her time to scope out the neighborhood.
She could see that Sloan’s house sat quite close to the road, promising anyone inside a view of the other buildings across the street. More importantly, the sunroom, front left, had a perfect line of vision to the house they’d be watching.
No wonder, Don suggested Sloan’s house for their investigation. One thing that bothered her: there was a huge hibiscus plant smothered in white blooms in front of the window which could block one’s view. It should be trimmed as soon as possible.
“Mom, are we going around the back?” Kean’s expression held fear mixed with curiosity, and a whole lot of shyness.
“Yeah, Mom? What do you say?”
Alia’s glance shot to the man slouched against the side of the house; his long silver hair tied back giving him the look of an older hippy. But it was his grin sparkling with youthful vitality that made her take a second glance at his tall, lean body. This man sported a classic Romeo personality, though he had to be in his mid-sixties.
“Can I help you and your boy?”
“We’re looking for Sloan Booker.”
Kean piped up. “He’s my uncle.”
Dark blue and now intense, the man’s eyes lost their smile and flew from Kean back to her. “You got the right place, Sloan lives here. But as for the uncle part—”
Alia cut him off. “He didn’t tell you about me? I’m his half-sister from San Diego. We just found each other. I’m sure he can explain.” Not wanting to blow her cover before she started the assignment, Alia didn’t stop talking. “This is my son, Kean. We decided to come for a visit. Surprise him. Is he here?” Sweating internally, Alia wished her acting skills were better.
“Oh, right, he did mention that you’d been in touch. I’m one of his partners at Bookers, Lester Williams. Who’s this little dude?”
Kean’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’m Kean. She’s my mom. I’m not so little. I’m eight.”
“And I’m sorry. Guess you looked kinda little to me ‘cause I’m way too tall. Sorry about the misunderstanding.” Les winked at Kean and grinned Alia’s way. “Why don’t we go out back and give Sloan’s friends the shock of their lives.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Sloan had the hamburgers and pork cooking just fine on the barbecue. The kebabs, filled with peppers, mushrooms and onions, gave the grill a colorful appearance that started his mouth watering. The smells of the meat wafting everywhere drew a lot of expectant looks his way.
The table had been arranged earlier by Roy and Don, who were setting out some of the food now, though a few of the women present rearranged things as soon as the guys put the dishes down. It made Sloan smile when he saw Roy furtively fix the just re-arranged plate back to the way he’d had it in the first place, then smirk at Don who sent him a thumbs up.
Sloan’s glance swung from one group to another. His neighbors were having fun and interacting the way of people who already knew and liked each other, creating a real party atmosphere.
To his left, the Newmans, a black couple adored by everyone on the street, were laughing with friends from further down—a Hawaiian male and his wife, a well-endowed blonde Swede, who often acted as bartenders. They were lovers of Mai Tai cocktails, guzzlers who tottered off a little tipsy at the end of every party. Both couples had small children who loved swimming, and were happily playing and making a lot of noise in Sloan’s pool.
There was another group milling around closer to the house on his newly renovated patio. The wicker furniture had been bought online and delivered just the day before, with yellow-flowered cushions and glass table tops to impress Sloan’s house guests.
The Chinese wife of another Hawaiian friend, who’d loved the dishes brought to last week’s barbecue, was talking recipes with Janna Aman, while her husband chatted with Sam, both laughing uproariously at Anya, the Amans’ beloved toddler.
Happy at being the center of attention, the little doll-like child performed for them. Swaying to the music while trying to move her hips and tap her feet at the same time proved too much for the precocious child. Tripping over and stubbing her bare toes, she ended up in a heap of wails.
Sloan quickly set down his meat flipper and rushed over to pick her up before the others could. He knew just how to bring back her smiles. She was his favorite of all the kids, and the rainfall of tears pouring down pudgy cheeks that only seconds ago were full of laughter couldn’t be allowed.
He lifted her high, lowered her belly so it rested on his head, then jiggled her in the way she loved. This made her laugh as he knew it would. Her chubby arms wrapped around his head hugging him, while her face lit up with adoration and her tears changed to giggles.
Suddenly the noise level lessened. A model-like female stood looking as if she’d just walked off the cover page of Cosmopolitan. At a complete disadvantage with a small child draped over his head giving him slobber-kisses, Sloan watched her approach.
Sweet Jesus. The woman was striking and way too much for these laid-back neighbors of his. They needed her to fit in, not stand out. Shit!
Les was with her, his grin stretching his face out of its normal sardonic expression. And so was a small boy who looked like he was heading straight into a pit of flames. His mama-blue-eyes were wide and terrified of rejection.
Just then, a ball of slobber dripped off Sloan’s hair and landed on the end of his nose.
Shit! Seriously?
Chapter Twenty-six
Seeing Sloan’s disadvantage, Alia knew she should say something, continue the act they’d discussed previously about her surprising him. From the look on his shocked face, he was playing his part perfectly.
Having the adorable child clutching his head in such a loveable fashion, well, that just turned her to mush while her new partner scored a ten. One of… strike that. He was undoubtedly the most handsome man she’d ever met. The memory of this moment wouldn’t soon go away.
With her knees acting all weak and her head spinning, Alia wobbled forward, her high heels on the grass not making it any easier. Without knowing she would, she reached to caress the little one’s face, and had her hand grabbed by the cherub who was now arcing her small body toward her.
A woman intercepted and pulled the child away. But the stubborn tiny miss howled at not getting to her target. She’d spotted the large multi-colored stones in the necklace Alia had used to detail her slim-cut white dress and, as most little ones would, she wanted them.
Still sensing all eyes on her, the noise of the guests having all but receded when they’d spotted her and Kean arriving, Alia awkwardly reached out and hoped the mother would let her hold the adorable wriggler.
Janna hesitated. First she looked at Sloan, who said nothing. Shy now that she was the center of attention, shushing the little one who still cried, Janna let her daughte
r slide into Alia’s waiting arms and peace was suddenly restored.
Sloan, playing his role, finally spoke. “Can I help you?”
Taking her cue, Alia hugged the baby a little tighter and began Act One. “Hi, Sloan, I’m Alia Hawkins… your stepsister.” Okay that hadn’t gone well. Where was all the lead-up she’d rehearsed? The explanation of why she’d come and how she’d found him.
Sloan’s eyes hardened slightly but his grin remained. “There’s gotta be a mistake. I don’t have a stepsister.”
Alia sensed Kean’s distress as he leaned into her from behind. “I am your stepsister.” This time she put emphasis on the one word she needed everyone to believe, her voice hardening and her eyes spitting fire.
“Don’t get me wrong, if I did have a stepsister, I’d be over the moon. Who’s your mother?”
“Wai Kealoha Booker, formally known as Wai Sloan. She was a fabric designer and lived in San Diego.”
“She was my mother too. You don’t look like her.”
“I know. She was beautiful. I recently moved to Honolulu, only to find my house full of termites and so it’s being renovated. I hoped you’d let me and my son stay with you. Didn’t the lawyers contact you?”
Sounds of shock filtered through the group of onlookers, but no one spoke until Sloan asked the next question they’d put into his script.
“Yes. Some time ago. I told them I’d be willing to meet you but they needed to do all the background checks before they sent you to me. I haven’t heard from them since. What’s your name?”
“Alia Landon is my married name, though I’m now divorced. Look, they promised to contact you and let you know that I was moving to Hawaii.”
“They didn’t. How did you find me?”
“The lawyers gave me a letter from my mother when she passed, which explained that she had a son from an earlier relationship with Tom Booker, your father. Since you’re now my only family, I wanted to find you… meet you. I have a son. You’re his uncle.” Okay, she was now back on script.
Sloan slowly crouched down and reached out his hand toward Kean. “Hey, kid, you want an uncle? I have a pool, lots of good friends and I cook a mean hamburger. Whaddaya say? Ya wanna stick around with me so we can be a family for a while?”
Kean hesitated. He looked up at his mother, waiting for her approval. This whole farce had been stressful for Kean and she felt terrible that he’d had to suffer through this damn act so necessary to introduce her into Sloan’s life and his house.
She nodded at him and hugged the little girl tighter, who was now trying to get the necklace to go over her head too. Being choked to death at this point seemed preferable than having to live out this charade for one more minute.
Kean searched Sloan’s features. Being his mother’s son, he didn’t jump head first into any situation. Even though earlier he’d seemed stoked by having Sloan enter his life, when the chips were down, wariness kicked in. “Do you like kids… boys?”
A sigh went around the group, who’d all moved closer to watch the newest episode of a day in Booker’s world. Sloan looked stunned, as if the words had punched him in the gut.
He reached out to hold both of Kean’s arms and his voice turned solemn, the joking tone vanished. “I used to be a boy myself. It’s a tough world for us guys. I had three dads to help me make things less tough. If you like, I can share two of them with you, and if you add me in as your uncle, that’s three of us in your corner. Work for you?”
Kean lit up, his face now wreathed in smiles. “Okay!” He nodded, his head resembling a bird bobbing for feed, and then he dropped a bombshell. “I’m kinda hungry, but I think your hamburgers are burning.”
Those words broke the spell and everyone moved to the rescue. Sloan, who’d taken Kean by the hand, rushed to see if their dinner could be saved, and left Alia holding the proverbial bag, meaning the kid doing her damnedest to strangle her with her own necklace.
Janna, insistent with Anya, took her from Alia’s arms and shushed her renewed cries, until Alia removed the jewelry and placed it around the toddler’s neck. Instantly Anya’s cries turned to happy hiccups, and her large brown eyes sparkled.
“No, please, miss. You mustn’t. The necklace is expensive, and she’s little more than a baby who doesn’t understand. She’ll break it.”
After almost taking a header from having her heel stick in the grass, Alia kicked off her shoes and moved closer, wanting to calm the lovely woman… who was now her suspect.
Their eyes met, and Alia saw the essence of Janna, her spirit and kindness, her open friendliness in welcoming a new person into the group.
They’d just overcome the largest hurdle in their plan, initiating Alia’s entry into Sloan’s world. But now she had a different problem that wouldn’t be as easily conquered. A link had formed between her and Janna Aman, an instant liking from the minute their eyes had taken each other’s measure.
Dammit! How the hell was she to do her job now?
Spying on her new friend…
Chapter Twenty-seven
Sloan had no idea whether it was the burnt hamburgers everyone jokingly consumed, or Anya’s instant acceptance of Alia; the child was now sleeping in her father’s arms still clutching the fancy necklace. Or because Alia had kicked off her shoes and joined them as if she belonged. But the day had become a success.
Sloan had motioned Faisal over, the Amans’ nine-year-old son, and introduced him to Kean. Hoping that the boys would be pals, he’d encouraged Kean to get his swimsuit on and play with the other kids in the pool.
Faisal, a little seal in the water, a gregarious kid who loved to tease his sister and the other little girls, would be the perfect friend for the shy boy who’d hovered near him since he and his mom had arrived.
However, the next time Sloan looked, instead of being with the rest of the kids, Kean was sitting happily near Roy, who was in his glory. Roy’s manner of calm knowledge, his way of teaching lessons without anyone even aware they were being taught had turned Sloan’s childhood into a wonderful experience.
Comfortable now about the kid, whose big eyes had almost unmanned him, Sloan checked out the laughter coming from the group around the patio. Chatting with the rest of the females, Alia was sipping a Mai Tai while her feet were tucked under her in one of his new garden chairs. Her dress had slid up and her tanned legs, curled in that way women had when they wanted to be comfy yet ladylike, drew his eye.
Until… he caught her watching him. Then his cheeks grew hot, and not from the heat of the barbecue.
Well, damn…
Quickly, he skimmed the rest of the yard, where, just that morning, Roy had performed his usual miracle as the main gardener. His eyes strayed from one colorful, tropical plant to another in the newly trimmed gardens; a perfect backdrop to where his neighbors were enjoying their day. Everyone looked relaxed, exactly the way they’d planned.
He sauntered over to the patio and crouched next to Alia. His move brought a lull to the conversation which suited him perfectly. “You and Kean are welcome to stay with me for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll call the lawyers. If you are my sister—”
“I am.”
“Which I have no reason to doubt, since I never knew my mother, you can stay as long as you want.”
“Thank you, Sloan. I really appreciate you taking us in. I have a lot of personal stuff to share with you about your mother.”
“Fine. We have time. I’ll get your suitcases.” He got up and went to fetch the forgotten luggage that Les and Kean had left by the entrance to the back yard. Les jumped up to help, as did Don, and they hauled them into the smallish back bedroom he’d designated for his two visitors.
Les waited until they were out of earshot and talked low. “You didn’t tell us your new partner was a bloody princess. I never thought I’d see an FBI’er who looked like her. She could be a movie star, for fuck’s sake.”
Don piped up. “She’s a sweetheart, Les. Give her a chance.”
Les eyeballed Don, his attitude changing slightly. “I already came to the same conclusion on my own, Special Agent Asshole.” He turned away from Don’s grin and looked at Sloan. “As per your instructions, or should I call them like they are: your orders. I watched for the cab, but when I first saw her I gotta tell you, I figured it was a frickin’ joke.”
Sloan held up both hands. “Hey, I didn’t know she’d come dressed for a night in Vegas, for crissakes. For a guy who likes the ladies, you’re being rather asinine.”
“Am not.”
“Are so.”
“Hey, who you calling an arsehole?”
“Cut it out, you two.” Don broke into their typical nonsense. “At least she’s broken the ice. They all like her, especially Janna and Sam.”
Les became serious. “There’s one thing that kinda worried me, could be a game changer. Figured you should know.”
Both Don and Sloan stiffened, acknowledging the change of tone in Les’s voice.
“After the taxi took off, I saw a car pull in across the street. A blond chick with huge hair seemed very interested in the house and your new sister.”
“What the fuck? She has someone tailing her? Is that what you’re saying?”
“All I’m saying is… yeah! I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Sloan smelled Alia’s perfume wafting through the room, the subdued sexy smell snagging his attention in the same way it had the other times he’d stood close to her, wanting to touch.
While she settled her kid in the strange bedroom, he sat on the brown leather couch in the living room, waiting with two mugs of coffee in front of him. Paying little attention to the big-screen monster most men only dreamed of owning, he turned the sound low.