by Anna Lowe
Yes, he wanted to say. I have been paying attention.
Even so, he was surprised by all the details he was able to recall once he thought about it. Like how she liked her coffee — black and sweet — and how dark she liked her toast. How she crossed her right leg over her left and tilted her head while fiddling with her hair. He even knew which side she preferred sleeping on — the left. All the little things he hadn’t had time to learn about her before, he’d been memorizing now.
He cleared his throat. Damn. Either he had an unhealthy obsession, or he was head over heels in love.
“Chicken with mustard would be perfect,” Ella said quietly.
He scuffed his boot over asphalt and nodded. “Perfect.”
She disappeared into the hardware store, leaving him to head for the lunch truck. There was one guy in line and an older woman in the shade nearby, peddling an eclectic collection of goods — everything from beaded necklaces to kitchen magnets and other knickknacks.
“Palm reading. Tarot cards. See your future?”
Jake made a face. He wasn’t sure he’d like what he would see. But his gaze caught on a small wooden box, and he couldn’t resist stepping over for a better look.
“It’s an antique,” the woman said.
Which meant he probably couldn’t afford it, but heck. He’d already picked up the wooden box and turned it over in his hands. It wasn’t much bigger than a cigar box, but taller and inlaid with several types of wood.
“That’s whalebone there.” The woman pointed. “The real thing.”
He pulled gently on an engraved knob but nothing happened, and the woman cackled. “It’s a puzzle box. You can’t just open it. You have to figure it out.”
Now, he was really intrigued.
The lid was inlaid with tiles of different types — some teak, some beech, others mahogany, plus a couple of ivory squares — like the top of one of those puzzle cubes. There was one open space, and he slid the ivory piece left, moving it into a new column.
“What’s inside?” He tested the weight in his hands.
The copper-skinned woman smiled sadly. “Destiny.”
His eyes wandered to the hardware store doors, peeking at Ella between the aisles. Destiny. What would his be?
“What can I get you?” the lunch truck guy called, and Jake jerked away.
“One chicken with spicy mustard, one roast beef.”
He tapped his foot and peeked into the hardware store again. Ella was in one of the aisles, weighing machetes against each other and testing the blades with her thumb. She even gave one a few test swings, scaring the hell out of an older guy in the neighboring aisle.
Jake chuckled. Ella was Ella. Warrior. Tomboy. But, damn. She made a perfect gorgeous honeymooner, too.
As he paid and waited for the sandwiches, his eyes drifted over to that box again.
“Ready to go?” Ella called, striding across the lot.
“Ready,” he said, though his eyes stayed on the vendor’s table.
“What?” Ella stepped over.
He hemmed and hawed a little, and her eyes followed his. He could see the exact moment Ella noticed the puzzle box among all the other items on the cluttered table. Her eyes sparkled, and she broke into a grin. “Oh, that’s you, McBride.”
And just like that, he had his wallet out and his hand on the box.
“Sixty dollars,” the vendor said.
“Sixty?” Ella protested.
Jake would have been content to slap down sixty bucks — he wasn’t much of a haggler, not even after years of missions in far-flung corners the world where bargaining was built into every price. But Ella…
“Twenty-five,” she said, staring the woman down.
“Fifty.”
“Thirty.”
And so it went, with Jake looking back and forth like a spectator at a tennis match. Finally, Ella nodded in satisfaction and shook with the old woman. “Thirty-seven.”
He hid a smile. No one got the better of Ella. No one.
He paid before either of the two tough-talking women changed their minds and ended up playing with the puzzle box for the rest of the drive. A pleasant drive, actually, once Ella quit teasing him about that box.
“Hoping to find treasure, McBride?”
He grinned. The box was even better than a regular puzzle, what with all the different tabs and sliding panels that interlocked.
“Nah. Just finding my inner child,” he insisted, shaking it next to his ear and then trying a different combination.
“Won’t have to look far to find that.” She grinned.
“Watch the road, Kitt,” he shot back.
They drove in easy silence for the next few minutes. Now and then, Ella pointed something out. There was a giant volcano called Haleakala and the hulking wreck of an old sugar mill. Not long after that, the road went from highway to twisty, turny country lane, following a jagged coastline high over the crashing surf.
“This is the windward side of Maui. The road to Hana — it’s a little town all the way down there.” She waved forward. “A lot of people drive out here just for the views. Our place is just up that slope.”
She lifted one finger from the steering wheel to point, and Jake caught a glimpse of red blossoms erupting from a tall stand of trees.
“African flame trees,” Ella murmured with a faraway look in her eyes.
Not long after, she slowed and turned onto a dirt road where she switched to four-wheel drive and maneuvered the vehicle deftly around several steep, rocky curves.
Jake hung on to the dashboard while the vehicle lurched and bounced. “Now I know why you insisted on renting a Jeep. You lived way out here?”
Ella laughed. “We sure did. Lots of privacy.”
He ducked to avoid an overhanging vine, and every time the engine stopped straining for a moment or two, he caught the sound of singing birds and crashing water.
“My favorite waterfall is down there.” Ella waved to the left.
Her favorite waterfall — like there were many more. And maybe there were, judging by the lush scenery and plunging cliffs. Then Ella turned a tight corner and squeaked to a stop in front of a crooked metal gate made of old pipes.
“This is it.” She grabbed the machetes and slid out of the car.
Jake watched from over her shoulder as she jiggled a rusty lock and finally pushed the gate open. A dozen vines went with it, hanging on like so many aging sentries. Apparently, there was no need to repark the Jeep – and no place to fit it on the overgrown property. Jake couldn’t imagine too many people came up the rough drive.
“Whoa.” He ducked as something swooped over his head.
Ella laughed. “Pu’eo.”
“Pu-what-o?”
“An owl. They live around here. Some old friends, you might say.” She chuckled and started hacking her way through the waist-high grass. “Come on.”
The owl fluttered to a branch high overhead and peered at Jake skeptically. Every step he took, the bird followed with watchful eyes.
Ella motioned around with her machete. “Papaya… Banana… We had a whole grove here.” Her voice went from excited to wistful and back again. “Avocado too. We had to take turns fetching water from the creek. Kind of rustic, I guess you could say, but it suited us just fine.”
Then she stopped abruptly and stared at the house. The shine gradually faded from her eyes, and her shoulders hunched a tiny bit. The little cottage that stood on low stilts had a lot of character, but the white paint was chipped, and broken shards of glass hung in one of the windowpanes. The steps were crooked, each slanting in a different direction as jungle rot set in. One of the sheets of corrugated iron protecting the roof had slipped a foot or two.
Jake put a hand on Ella’s shoulder. No cozy couple act this time, just the kind of reassuring touch she had given him the night of Hoover’s call. The place was a mess, and he could feel her pain. Still, it didn’t take much imagination to picture a younger Ella running down the sloping property or
kicking a ball around. Flowerpots and wood carvings circled the place, hinting at pride and love.
“Nice,” he said without a hint of irony. “A nice place to grow up.”
Ella’s chest rose and fell in a silent sigh. “It was nice. But it’s time to let go.” She straightened her shoulders and nodded to the right. “You start over there. I’ll start over here, okay? Maybe by the time the realtor gets here, we can make it look less like a jungle and more like a yard.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Cut ma’aming me, McBride.”
He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Within a sweaty hour or two, they had hacked the creeping jungle back and succeeded in making the grass look more like a lawn. Then they swept out the house, raked leaves off the porch, and dragged the biggest branches littering the lawn into a neat stack. Ella spent a long time fussing over a sunny bedroom at the back that must have been her own, but when she came out, she was as businesslike as ever. Maybe even more so. She washed the dusty windows with some water she’d hauled from the creek while Jake straightened a droopy shutter and got that roof panel in place.
Finally, they stood back and admired their work. They were scratched, pouring sweat, and sporting countless mosquito bites, but the place looked a lot better.
“Feels good,” Ella said, making him laugh.
She was right, though. Physical work always felt good. The times where you concentrated on heaving and hauling instead of the shit inside your head. Jake tilted his face toward the sun, imagining a place to work the land and make an honest living. A place to grow old with no regrets.
When he opened his eyes, they slid right to Ella, and the words echoed in his mind. No regrets.
He stepped closer, clearing his throat, intent on saying something. Ella, we need to talk. Or Ella, come over, sit down, and hear me out. Please.
She looked up and caught her breath as if she sensed what was coming.
“Listen, Ella,” he started.
But just when he’d worked out where to start, the sound of a straining engine growled, and they both snapped their heads toward the road.
“That must be them,” Ella murmured, stepping past him after a pause.
Jake studied his boots for a good ten seconds before puffing out his cheeks and looking up again. Ella was already stomping over to the gate in her no-nonsense stride and waving when the realtor stepped out of the passenger side of a red SUV. But the moment the driver’s door opened, she froze in her tracks.
Jake caught up and watched as a big, burly man unfolded himself from the driver’s seat. First, Jake saw a long, thick leg clad in army pants, then a hairy arm, wide as a branch, and finally, a smooth, shaved head and a face wearing a wicked grin.
“Here’s the place I was telling you about,” the realtor said, but Jake’s attention stayed on the big guy. He seemed familiar in a way Jake couldn’t exactly place — and dangerous.
Ella’s nostrils flared, and Jake saw her eyes narrow in suspicion. Did she know that guy or did she just get the same bad feeling he did?
“Three-bedroom bungalow surrounded by virgin forest,” the realtor continued, slipping a pair of sunglasses over his thinning hair.
Jake immediately dismissed the realtor. That slick white guy in a loud Hawaiian shirt wasn’t a threat. That big guy, on the other hand, had a malicious, intrusive air about him.
The realtor waved around without bothering to introduce Ella to his customer. As if she were part of the landscape, not someone to be addressed.
“You got your banana trees, your avocado…”
Ella’s banana trees and avocado, Jake wanted to say. He widened his stance and planted himself firmly in the way of the bustling realtor, who finally looked up.
“Oh. You must be Hunter Bjornvald.”
Jake jerked his head in a no, keeping his eyes on the big guy who hung back a little, appraising the scene. He stood a solid six foot five, towering over the realtor and sniffing the breeze much like Ella did.
“She’s in charge here,” Jake grunted, nodding at Ella.
The realtor looked at Ella in surprise, and Jake had to fight back a growl. What would it be like to have to deal with that all the time? Ella was as tenacious and capable as the toughest Marine, but guys like these often didn’t look past her compact frame.
“Oh, Miss Kitt. Right?”
Ella folded her arms across her chest, glaring at the newcomer. Lumbering up deliberately, the man gave them plenty of time to appreciate his enormous size. He had the build of a weightlifter, with slabs of muscle chiseled over his legs, torso, and arms. When he smiled at Ella, the points of his canines showed.
“Gideon Goode,” the big man rumbled. His face was friendly, but his eyes were dark. “Mind if I have a look around?”
Yes, I do mind, Jake nearly said, but it wasn’t his place. Too bad, because he already distrusted the guy. Eyes didn’t lie, and those eyes were appraising. Scheming. Plotting. First, they swept over the property. But when those dark eyes drifted over to Jake, the man’s jaw tightened, and his eyes sparked with what looked like hate. A moment later, those dark eyes dulled to a more neutral expression and moved on to Ella, brightening with interest.
The owl fluttered in the tree, shifting around in unease. Jake felt the same way. Gideon Goode. Did he know that guy? And, damn. What was up with him?
Ella glared at Goode for a full five seconds before stepping aside and gritting her teeth. “Go ahead. Have a look.”
Jake watched closely, hanging back with Ella while the realtor and Goode wandered around the house.
“You know that guy?” he muttered out of the side of his mouth.
“No,” Ella grunted. “But I know his type.”
She didn’t say more, but there was definitely something going on. Ella practically growled when the man stomped up the stairs and entered the house. A minute later, he came out, shaking his head.
“Not what I had in mind,” he said with an apologetic smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Good riddance, the owl in the tree seemed to say with a flutter of its wings. It watched closely as Goode and the realtor walked back to the car.
“No problem. I’ve got another place you’ll love,” the realtor said.
Goode barely nodded, studying Jake with those dark, vengeful eyes as he went. Or was that a trick of the light? Goode’s gaze darted to Ella, back to Jake, and over to Ella again, taking on the greedy sheen of a poacher.
Jake bristled. Watch it, asshole. She’s mine.
The dark eyes grew amused, then scheming, examining Ella in a whole new way. Running his eyes up and down her body. Baiting Jake, for sure.
Jake stepped forward. Whoever the guy was, he was about to get his ass kicked.
Goode smiled as if that was just what he’d wanted. He opened his mouth to speak, but the realtor reached across the car and tapped the horn in a jaunty, beep-beep!
“Ready to go?”
Goode gave Jake one more long, menacing look-over before his eyes dropped back to Ella. “Nice to have met you, Miss Kitt.”
She jutted her chin, unimpressed. “Good luck finding a house.”
She didn’t sound all too sincere, and Jake couldn’t blame her.
Asshole, he let his eyes say, and the man finally turned away. The SUV creaked on its struts when the big guy got in. Throughout most of the awkward twelve-point turn it took to get out of that narrow space, Goode kept his eyes on Ella. Finally, he pushed the car into first gear and disappeared around the bend.
Jake and Ella stood still as statues for a full minute after the sound of the car faded. Gradually, the birds that had gone silent started singing and whistling again, and the charged atmosphere relaxed a little. But something still felt off.
“Goode, huh?” Jake murmured in disgust.
Ella snorted. “Goode. Yeah, right.”
Chapter Nine
Ella’s fox was snarling, snapping, and growling inside long after the realtor and his customer
had gone.
Goode, my ass, her inner beast snarled.
She had smelled shifter even before the two men reached the gate, though she couldn’t pinpoint what kind. The realtor was just a human, and an annoying one at that. But that Gideon guy… A shifter, for sure. Her mind whirled through the possibilities. A lion? Tiger? Some kind of feline. His scent didn’t have that musky, jungle element Cruz’s had, but he didn’t have the open savanna feel of a lion shifter either. He did have the size, though. More than the size.
It’s not the size of the dog in the fight. It’s the size of the fight in the dog, her fox grunted as she stared at the empty road.
She would have liked a chance to challenge the guy, even though she didn’t know exactly why. Maybe because he was so smug and cocky. The way his eyes had undressed her… Had that been to rile her up or to goad Jake?
She looked at Jake and found his eyes blazing as if he were a shifter too. She put a hand on his chest without thinking. Whether that was an unconscious attempt to calm herself or to calm Jake, she didn’t know. But either way, it worked. The angry thump of Jake’s heart slowed, and her pulse stopped revving too. She looked up at the house, trying to let anger go and love in, the way Georgia Mae had always told her to do.
Her fox snarled, still huffing and puffing inside. Me and my mate. Together, we can take on anything. Anything.
She frowned, because it didn’t work that way. Jake was a tough soldier who could hold his own with any human – but to bring him into the shifter world would pit him against forces way out of his league.
A cardinal flitted over the freshly trimmed lawn in a flash of red, bringing her thoughts back to Gideon Goode. What was another shifter doing on Maui? Did Silas and the others know about him?
“I wouldn’t have sold the property to that asshole anyway,” she muttered.
Jake laughed and pulled her into a hug. “No way. You need to find someone who deserves this place. Someone who will make it a home. Really a home, not an address.”
She closed her eyes. Jake got it. He really got it.
Of course he does, her fox sighed.
And, oops. She found herself locking her arms around his waist and hugging back. But damn, did that feel good. That two of us against the world feeling instead of having to deal with problems all on her own.