by Cathryn Cade
She swished her feet in the water instead of flying at him and smacking him with her fists, which is what part of her wanted to do. He'd scared her, damnit. And that just made her so mad.
"I know that," she snapped.
He sighed. "Sorry. I just don't want you getting those cuts infected again. You were in bad shape. Clean as the ocean here is, anybody gets cut on coral or rock, they gotta clean it up right away. An open sore...that's like an invitation to all the little bacteria."
Okay, she got that. "I know, but...it's weird, but the cuts are healed over already." She wasn't about to show him the one on the swell of her breast, but she lifted her arm to show him the smaller scar. "See?"
He leaned in, looking closely at her arm, and then sat back. His gaze met hers. "Fuck," he said. "The other one too?"
She nodded. "Weird, huh?"
They stared at each other for a long moment. And Shelle could have sworn she saw her own uneasiness reflected in his dark eyes.
"Well, fast healing is good, right?" He smirked, as if throwing off the strange mood. "And FYI, wahine, you were yelling right back at me."
"Oh, so mature," she muttered. “You started it.”
He made a face that meant 'So?' Then, by mutual consent, they went back to watching fish, instead of each other. And if she was more aware of him, even with beautiful, exotic fish darting about at her feet, well, that was something she did not care to admit even to herself.
"Moke!" called a voice.
Shelle looked for the owner of the voice but saw no one at first. Moke lifted a long arm, his face lighting up as he looked up toward the house.
Shelle blinked.
Wow, that was some smile. It transformed his square, somber face, creasing his cheeks, twinkling in his dark eyes and revealing strong teeth, white against his dark skin. She felt a tiny twinge of jealousy that smile wasn't for her.
"Mo'oleleana," he bellowed. "Get yo ass down here to da water!"
"Okay, Moke." Shelle turned to see a tall, plump Hawaiian girl jogging down the lawn toward them. Her long, dark hair flew around her as she ran, and her smile flashed. Her coltish movements marked her as a teen.
These Hawaiians definitely had the power of the smile, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.
Shelle sat silent, feeling like an interloper as Moke slid off the rocks and forged through the shallow bay to meet his cousin in the water. He bent to hug her, and she hugged him back, giggling.
"Chee, you grow up since I seen you," he said.
"You betta believe," she returned. "No see you fo years, whatchu tink I gonna do?"
They laughed and let go of each other, but continued to talk as they waded out toward Shelle. She listened, uneasy but charmed by the way they'd both slipped into what sounded like island lingo. What had Vicky called it? Pidgin, the informal language of modern Hawaiians.
"We tink you don' like us no moa, you no come visit," Lele was complaining. "Too busy wit dem cahs and trucks? O dem mainland haole bradduhs of yours?"
"No come visit 'cause I'm busy, yeah," he said. "You busy too, bus ass work here at Nawea, yeah?"
"Yeah. An up at da B&B on corner. I work plenny, save money fo buy cah. Now, you introduce me to your girlfriend, o what?"
She grinned at Shelle as she said this last, so cheekily that Shelle had to smile back.
"She's not my girlfriend," Moke said, his brows together. "She's a guest. Shelle, dis my cousin Mo'oleleana. Lele, dis Shelle. She's from Seattle."
Lele's eyes rounded. "Oh, you two live in da same state? You can hang out togeddah when you go back."
"It's a big state," Moke said dryly. "Could fit all the islands in it together. She lives on one end, I live on the other."
O-kay. Shelle didn't bother to add to that. Wasn't like she was dying to 'hang out' with him either.
But then Lele stepped up on the rocks beside Shelle and beamed at her. "So cool you're here. Moke said you got stranded, that's rough. I sure wouldn't like to be stuck over on da mainland, not knowing anybody. How long you can stay?"
"I don't know. It depends." On whether Vicky could help Shelle find a temp job to earn the money for a plane ticket home, and on whether the cops caught the Rattlers and Albany, so she could go home without looking over her shoulder every moment. "I came to see my foster mom, but she's over in Honolulu with her husband. He has heart trouble."
"Ooh, that's scary. My grandma has heart stuff, but she goes to a doctor in Kona. Hey, you want a soda? I do."
With that, the girl dove into the water and swam gracefully back toward shore. Shelle looked to Moke, who shook his head.
"She's a nut," he said, affection clear in his deep voice. "But a good kid."
"I like her," Shelle said, and swam after Lele. A soda sounded wonderful, and Lele's cheerful chatter was a welcome distraction from the weird tension simmering between herself and Moke.
Whether he was yelling at her, or just teasing her, she was aware of him. Like he had some kind of freaky, male force field emanating from him. Sometimes scary, but mostly just...freaky. Like this place.
Thank God for his cousin. Because bad temper aside, she'd caught him checking out her legs, and her ass. He might not like her, but he was attracted to her. And no way, no how was that going anywhere.
Lele and Shelle sat on loungers in the shade, drinking cold sodas, and talked. Well, mostly Lele talked and Shelle listened, nodding and smiling at the right intervals, and letting Lele's bubbly, good humor spill over on her.
She kept a casual eye on Moke, who stayed in the water as she and his cousin chatted. His head was dark and sleek like a sea lion's. And just as bad-tempered. She hid her snicker at this behind her soda can, but she couldn't seem to look away as he swam over to the dock and levered himself up onto it.
Whoa. In the bright sunlight, he was a long, brawny length of man. His impressive display of sleek, wet muscle and dark skin in no way resembled a sea lion. His long hair streamed down his back in a black river, and now that they were wet, his faded trunks clung to his hard, round ass and thick thighs.
Also, with his back turned, she saw that he had some serious ink—a bold design of dark brown tribal ink in the design of a great bird with wings spread across the broad back of his shoulders. The body curled below, a snake or a fish, she wasn't sure, and bands of more art encircled his thick biceps. Yum.
When he turned around, her eyes widened and her mouth went dry at the impressive bulge displayed at his groin. The man was seriously built...all over.
"Hey, Moke, you gonna fish?" Lele called, jerking Shelle from her daze of what felt uncomfortably like lust. Damn, what was she doing, gawking at his junk? She didn't even like him.
"Nah," he called back. "Gonna fix us up some snorkel gear, if you girls wanna go."
"I will if Shelle does," Lele said. She turned to Shelle, looking so hopeful Shelle laughed.
"Sure, but you'll have to show me," she said. "I can swim, but I've never—"
"You nevah snorkel?" Lele asked wonderingly. "Whoa, it's da kine. You love it, all da tourists do. Come on."
Shelle grinned to herself as she rose from her lounger and followed Lele around the small bay to the end of the little dock.
Having grown up without money, she'd never traveled, except to the coast a few times with Vicky and the other kids. Here, she was completely out of her element. Part of her was still in shock that she'd even dared jump on that plane and come all the way across the ocean to this fiftieth state. She kind of wanted to pinch herself and see if she was really here.
The sun poured down on her head and shoulders, hot and heavy, and she had to squint against the glare coming off the dancing waves. Yep, she definitely wasn't in Sea-Tac.
"You wanna life vest, Shelle?" Moke asked, tipping his head to look along the dock at her. He stood in the shade of the little tiki shelter, his face in shadow, but she could feel his gaze on her. Not creepy, like Grinder—she shuddered involuntarily at that invasive memory—but more
just that freaky awareness of him as a man.
"No, thanks." She wouldn't say she was fat, exactly. But with her boobs and hips, she had plenty of flotation.
She looked down at herself uneasily before she stepped up on the dock, and sure enough, her nipples were clearly visible through her thin bra and wet tank. Crap. She grabbed her hair and pulled it forward on both sides to cover her breasts. It didn't do a very good job, but at least fiddling with the ends gave her something to do with her hands as she followed Lele along the dock to where Moke stood, a bright yellow snorkel mask in his big hands.
And she just wasn't going to think about whether her thin black panties were covering everything they should...or how much she really cared about that.
Ack, what was it about this guy?
He was like...like buying a new bag of chips. She always thought she was gonna wait and just eat a few with a sandwich, but pretty soon she could hear them calling to her in their rustly, crispy little voices, 'Shellleeee, we're right heeeere...and we're bad for you, but have some anywaaaay. You know you want usssss.' Yes, her chips sounded like Gollum, what about it?
Moke handed Lele the yellow snorkel, and chose a green one for Shelle. "Watch Lele," he told her. "Mask goes over your eyes and nose, tube goes in your mouth. Suck in a hard breath when you put the mask on, seal it up tight so no water gets in."
Shelle followed their instructions. Then, feeling a bit like she was in one of those TV ocean documentaries, she sat on the edge of the dock with Lele and put on the bright green flippers Moke handed her. She noted neither of them wore flippers, but she wasn't turning down any helpful equipment. They'd no doubt been swimming in the sea since they were in diapers, but not her.
"Keep your hands and feet off the reef so you don't damage it," Moke instructed. "And all dese pretty fish got razors by their tails, so don't go trying to pet one."
"No worries," Shelle said, lifting her hands, palms out. Like she wanted to touch any ocean critters. "I'll just look."
Lele giggled, and Moke smirked. "It's okay, nothing's gonna bite you. They pretty much ignore us. Oh, and we might see an eel. They look scary, but keep your distance and you'll be fine."
"Great," Shelle mumbled. "Please tell me there aren't any sharks."
"Not this time of day," Lele chirped. "They hunt early morning and at dusk. Moke, you should take her on a night dive to see the manta rays."
Shelle recoiled. "Uh, no. I'll pass." If the sharks were out then, she was staying firmly on land.
Moke chuckled again, a deep warm sound over her head as he lowered himself to the dock beside her, and then slid into the water, a silver snorkel mask on his head. "Maybe next time you visit Hawaii, yeah?"
Lele, who already had her mask on, put her face in the water and paddled away. Flippers on, Shelle slid into the water hip deep. She peered at Moke through her mask, holding the mouthpiece ready to put in.
He leaned close, his eyes twinkling behind his mask. "You get the urge to pet something, I'm available...just saying."
Then he flopped into the water, sending a wave rocking against her, and with a flash of big, brown feet he was gone under the water. Leaving her standing there with her mouth open. So, she stuck the snorkel tube in it, and dove in after him.
But a naughty part of her was squealing like a teen as she did so. The big Hawaiian was into her, too.
Just in a purely physical way, natch. Because anything else was, well, just unthinkable.
Shelle wasn't sure what to expect of snorkeling. At first she was nervous about trying to breathe through a tube with her face in the water, but it was easy. Plus, having her eyes now below the surface of the water brought the reef to life. Now she wasn't just looking into a giant aquarium, she was inside it.
With the flippers on, every kick propelled her through the water, so all she had to do with her arms was relax. She followed the two Hawaiians out to the reef, where they idled along, watching colorful fish dart about among the coral and rocks. Shelle saw the brilliant yellow tang up close, along with other fishes she could hardly believe were real, they were so pretty, some with speckles, some with stripes, some with both.
She even got to see the promised eel. It swam along the reef a little way away, like a living ribbon, then disappeared into the dark blue depths out to the ocean side of the reef. The reminder that she was on the edge of the huge, deep Pacific was unnerving, but Moke swam up on that side and pointed out another fish, and she forgot to be nervous.
He winked at her through his goggles. She snickered, and nearly inhaled a mouthful of salt water. She surfaced coughing, and he popped up beside her, laughing, a deep rumble of mirth that would have been infectious if she wasn't choking on salt water.
Time for her to get out of the water.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Moke heard a phone burbling some chick song when the three of them waded back up on the beach. "Lele, that your phone?"
"No, it's mine," Shelle said.
He reached for her snorkel gear. "Here, I'll put the gear away."
"Okay, thanks." She ran to grab her phone, her ass jiggling in a way he really liked. He tore his gaze off her body in time to see her face light up. "Vicky, hi. How are you?"
He moved to rinse their gear under the fresh-water shower near the end of the dock. But he kept an eye on Shelle, wondering if she was about to move on, go stay with her people.
"Dat was fun, yeah?" Lele chattered happily, stepping under the spray of cool water to rinse the salt water from her skin and long hair. "Shelle's nice. You should date her. Mama says you need to get a nice girl and settle down."
"Yeah, good time," Moke said. But he scowled as Shelle's shoulders sagged, disappointment in every line of her body. More bad news, looked like. She listened for a while longer, then tossed her phone down on the lounger. She stood for a moment, her back to them.
"Bring me a beer, yeah?" he suggested to Lele. "One for Shelle too." Looked to him like she could use a drink.
"Sure. And some snacks? I'm hungry."
"Yeah, sure. There's plenty to eat. Can you stay the night, keep Shelle company?"
His cousin nodded. "Sure can. Brought my stuff. We can have a campfire. Maybe I can show you guys my new hula."
"Sounds good."
He watched her hurry over to join Shelle.
He continued to keep an eye on her as he put away their snorkel gear, and showered off himself. He loved swimming in the salt water, but when it dried on the skin, it got sticky and after a while, it itched. He tipped his head back under the cool stream of fresh water and let it run through his hair, rinsing out the salt. Lifting his arms, he scraped the water back with both hands flattened.
When he opened his eyes, he looked straight into a pair of hazel eyes that were for once unguarded. And the look there sent heat rocketing down through him, spreading through his chest and landing solidly in his groin. Instinctively, he straightened his shoulders, and tightened his muscles. Maybe flexed a little, 'cause when a woman looked at him like that, it meant she liked what she saw.
And he definitely fuckin' loved knowing that this one liked what she saw. 'Cause standing there with those little black panties baring most of her heart-shaped ass, and her wet tank clinging in loving detail to her gorgeous tits, he wanted to lick up every drop of salty water trickling down her slender arms and her long legs. And especially the droplets glistening on her throat, trickling down into the hollow between her breasts.
Silence stretched across the space between them like an invisible net, full of the delicious suspense of knowing it would happen between them, just wondering when. Soon, his body begged. His cock was standing at attention, ready and waiting, which was impossible to hide in wet board shorts.
He moved one step toward her, and the kitchen door banged up at the house. "Hey, Moke!" Lele hollered. "What kine beer you want?"
He sighed inwardly. 'Kay, den. Nothing would be happening today, not with Lele here. "Volcano Red," he called back. He looked to S
helle. "You like beer?"
She bent and picked up the nearest beach towel, bright yellow and white striped, and clutched it to her. Her gaze skittered away from his, her cheeks flushing. "Um...sure."
"Good. Here, have a shower, get the salt off. We'll have a beer and some snacks."
He walked back into the water to cool off and calm the fuck down. Then he was going fishing, 'cause if he had to sit here and watch her all wet and tempting without touching her, he was gonna chew his own arm off.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Shelle and Lele got comfy on the loungers and ate potato chips while they watched Moke rig up an outrigger canoe to go fishing. Outwardly, Shelle hoped she looked casually interested in what he was doing.
Inwardly, she alternated between cringing with embarrassment and snickering to herself as if she was Lele's age again. The big Hawaiian had totally caught her checking him out. Only pure luck she hadn't been drooling. The man was big, muscular and worthy of a second, maybe a third look when he was dry and clothed.
But Jesus, wearing only a pair of clinging, wet trunks hanging low on his hips, with water streaming over his heavy, golden-brown muscles...he was lickable. And all that black hair streaming down his back like a native warrior of old, oh come to mama. She'd wanted to go to him, and slide her hands all over him along with the water, touch that broad, bare chest, and follow the faint trail of black hair down into his trunks. Happy trails to her, because the size of his cock was more than impressive. The long, thick shape under the thin layer of nylon made her pussy clench with longing. She'd been with enough guys to know that a cock that size was going to feel all kinds of good inside her.
But, what? She stared at the beer bottle in her hand. The stuff must be going straight to her head, if she was lusting after a big, dark, dangerous man this soon after being grabbed and abused by his evil twin. Well, no. Grinder the biker resembled Moke only in the most superficial terms. Big, yes. Dark, yes. Long hair, yes. But from there...no likeness whatsoever. Moke was a Hawaiian, he'd helped her, he made it clear he admired her, but then did nothing to threaten her sexually.