Dead On Arrival (A Malia Fern Mystery)

by Kym Roberts

  “The condos across the street from Pearl’s Hawaiian Pastries?” I asked, ignoring the guilt creeping up my neck in a deep shade of red.

  “That’s them.” Pai followed the path of my guilt, straight up to my eyes. The man could make me seriously uncomfortable. I ignored the impulse to squirm in my seat.

  “But I was there yesterday morning, and there weren’t any guards working.”

  Pai frowned. “At what time?”

  “It was around six in the morning. I was in the lot with…” somehow I didn’t think Pai needed to know who I’d been with, “…a friend for a good twenty minutes. I didn’t see a soul.”

  Pai rubbed his hand across his jaw and looked out over the pool. Without warning he said, “Baby Doll, I’d like to hire you.”

  “For what? I don’t work security.”

  “I want to hire you to keep an eye on my security guards at the site during the night. All you need to do is make sure they show up for work and stay on the job. I don’t need guards working for me that damage my business’ reputation.”

  As I began to squirm in my seat at the prospect of babysitting his employees, Pai continued to explain the job he had in mind.

  “Someone skipped out on their shift the other night. I can follow the paper trail and time sheets, but at this point, I won’t have enough to fire anyone. I need to know if Raines is paying my guys off, or if this was a one-time thing. Maybe I just have one bad guard, but if it’s going on every night on both shifts, I need to reimburse Raines and Mrs. Johnson for what they’ve paid me. If it’s just one individual, then I need to fire his ass.”

  I’m all for people doing their job. You do the work, you get paid, right? But I also didn’t want to be responsible for someone losing his job because he fell asleep during those awful hours between four a.m. and daylight. I’ve studied during those hours. They suck, and I certainly didn’t want to work them.

  “Pai…I really don’t want to be responsible…”

  “Baby Doll, a man lost his life. His family is grieving and I’m trying to protect the sacred ground that Mr. Johnson was trying to save. Do you know how rare it is for a company to see our culture as more than just a profit margin?”

  Actually, I did, and Pai’s guilt trip was pushing me into taking the job.

  “And in the meantime, you’ll be able to see if something isn’t right at The Garden of the Gods. Maybe something the police and I are both missing will give you a head start in your investigation. I promise to come to you first with any information I learn about Mr. Johnson.” Pai smiled at me as he reached across the table and grabbed my hand.

  It was like one of those scenes from a girly flick, or at least that’s how it seemed. His fingers wrapped around mine, and in slow motion while staring into my eyes with those depthless blue eyes of his, he pulled my hand up to his mouth. His lips pressed the back of my hand as he maintained a deep and meaningful gaze. He winked and my heart melted.

  On a scale of one to ten, Pai’s charm was about a twenty.

  “Okay.” I was in trouble.

  Chapter Ten

  Pai offered me a ride back to town, but I declined and took that swim after all. I was hot, over-heated and desperate for distance from Pai. A cold shower would’ve done wonders, but I wasn’t getting naked until I reached my apartment. Alone. Besides, my jogs had been interrupted two days in a row. At this rate I’d get out of the routine and the next one would kill me.

  With part of my workout complete, I used Lani’s phone to check my messages before hitting the road back into town. (Yes, I’d left my phone on the counter in my apartment). Bad habits die hard.

  Maybe I should just tell people to put that on my tombstone.

  I had two messages from Lani begging me to file some papers with the courts that afternoon so she could go watch her son play baseball, and one from my boss telling me I had four surf classes lined up for the next day. Not exactly a full day’s work, which meant more begging at Private Kaua’EYES for work, or working dogwatch for Pai. Since I’d already agreed to do it, the point was mute, but my excuses for not being able to make it were dwindling.

  A message from my mom who wondered if I was coming home for dinner and nothing from my brother, Kionni. Figures.

  I called Lani first, but she was with a client, so I left a message that I’d be in around one o’clock to get the documents. Then I called my mom to tell her I wouldn’t be able to make it today, and left another message for Kionni. By the time I headed for home, it was almost eight. Traffic was light since it was the weekend, and half the islanders were staying in their own neck of the woods instead of heading out to work. I got the typical catcalls from guys, thinking they were all I needed in my life for the next twenty-four hours, but I ignored them all. In fact, I was pretty proud I hadn’t flipped even one of them the bird, when a familiar car approached.

  It wasn’t a car I wanted to see, nor was it a car I could miss. It was a hot pink Camaro SS convertible with black racing stripes and matching pink wheels. It was hideous, and it belonged to Windy Trapp, my ex-best friend, the one who told Makaio I was a little girl surfing topless.

  Two birds flew before I could stop them. (Not that I would have stopped myself from flipping her off, but you get the point — the feelings between us run strong and deep.) Windy returned the favor, her blonde hair blowing in the wind as her car swerved in my direction. She didn’t intend to hit me. It was just an attempt to scare the crap out of me, literally, and it nearly succeeded.

  I ran off the road at full speed, jumping into the ditch. I heard her cackle in the wind as my ankle gave underneath me, and I fell for the third time in two days. This time, pain was involved. I sat in the weeds among some trash from careless travelers and rubbed my sore ankle. I didn’t think it was broken, but it wasn’t a hundred percent either. The swelling started immediately. I stood up, tested my weight, and winced.

  I was so stupid for not running with my phone. If I made it home in one piece, I swore I’d change that bad habit and buy an armband to hold it. I didn’t even try to wave down a car. It was daylight, I was alive and I was in no mood to deal with anyone. So when the motorcycle approached me, I didn’t even look in that direction, until it completed a U-turn and pulled up next to me.

  Seriously, can’t a woman suffer in peace?

  I tried not to glare as I glanced his way and kept walking.

  Yes, it was a man. And yes, he had killer biceps under a taut t-shirt. I didn’t need any more biceps in my life. I had enough.

  He killed the engine. “Malia.”

  I turned to find Makaio Natua approaching me on foot with his helmet at his hip. Cargo shorts teamed with his muscular body made him look like a warrior on a mission.

  “What happened?” Concern covered his words.

  “Nothing,” I bit out and turned to stomp away. It was more of a pathetic limp, but I’m sure my attitude more than made up for it.

  “Malia, stop. I can see you’re hurt. Let me help you.” His voice still dripped with concern, but I wasn’t capable of handling it. If I softened, I just might cry.

  “Thanks for stopping, but I’m fine. I only have a short distance to go.”

  Rough calluses, probably from lifting weights, wrapped around my upper arm and I stopped. If I tried to resist, I’d just end up on my face again, so what was the point of fighting it?

  “Why didn’t you call someone for help?”

  “I left my cell at home.”

  “You went jogging without your cell?” He sounded incredulous.

  “Don’t lecture me, Makaio.” My voice cracked as I said his name, the anger breaking way to a much deeper emotion. Afraid I’d break down on the spot, I demanded, “Are you going to give me a ride or not?”

  “Well, I’m not going to leave you on the side of the road. You can wear my helmet, but you’re going to have to wear my backpack, too.”

  I nodded, afraid anything else would lead to sobs, and without asking for permission, he place
d his hand around my waist and practically carried me back to his Ducati before slipping his helmet on my head. The chinstrap snapped together leaving his thumbs too close to my mouth.

  After carefully placing his backpack over my shoulders, Makaio straddled the bike and held out his hand to help me mount behind him. I pressed against his backside and the heat of our bodies mixed. The Ducati purred between our legs. I wrapped my arms around his chest, letting my fingers splay across his pecs and every muscle in his body constricted.

  “You okay?” He asked.

  I managed to respond with, “Yeah,” and told myself I was breathless because I was about to cry.

  “Hold on tight and I’ll have you home in no time. You live in Koloa?”

  Again my voice sounded soft and throaty, “Yeah, above Private Kaua’EYE’s Investigations.”

  As we took off, my grip tightened, my breasts pushed against his back and a heavenly warmth spread between my legs as I practically ground myself into his ass.

  This was not what the doctor would have ordered. In fact, it wasn’t what I would have ordered a couple days ago, but in the last day-and-a-half, I’d turned into a raging slut.

  I mean seriously. First Makaio, and then this morning, Pai, who I’d just met. Both of them had my hormones raging from the moment we met. Now Makaio. Again.

  Only a loose woman lusts after two different men in that short a time frame. I mean, sure, if you’re window shopping, you say, “Ooo, nice shirt,” or, “Wow, look at those pants.”

  I wanted to try on both outfits at the same time. My character was slipping.

  Makaio was the bad boy of the two cousins. He was a clean-cut cop, but he oozed a wild, dangerous sex appeal despite the close haircut and freshly shaven jaw. Pai held a different attraction for me. He made me feel precious. Taken care of…like a princess. I’ve never been a princess before, and the feeling was kind of nice. Of course, I’ve never been bad either, and that feeling was downright dirty. In a good way.

  See my dilemma?

  At the moment, my sluttiness was plastered to Makaio’s backside wanting him to turn around while my hands wandered his chest. Damn, I wanted him. I wanted to move my hands down to his abs and explore the tight six-pack I knew was there. The draw of his muscles was incredible as the breeze whipped across my legs cinched tightly to his hips. With a little movement, I could have them wrapped around his waist. Hmmm.

  The wistful feeling of being right where you belong in life saturated my psyche until the lack of vibration between my legs popped my dream like a bubble. That’s when I noticed my hands had betrayed my desire and wandered to Makaio’s muscled midsection.

  Son of a …

  I jumped off the motorcycle. Forgetting my swollen cankle, I ended up face first in the dirt. Again. His helmet was the only thing that kept me from eating dirt for the second time in a couple hours.

  Lying flat on my stomach, I looked up to see Makaio squatting in front of me. He actually looked worried instead of lustful, as he reached out and slowly removed my helmet. His concern revealed a side of him I didn’t expect to see, and one I kind of liked.

  In an attempt to regain any shred of dignity I had left, I pulled myself into a sitting position and smoothed out my hair, as my heart flip-flopped with Makaio’s proximity. Unable to resist, I looked up and our eyes locked. His hand rose toward my hair, and my heart stopped mid-leap with the magnetic pull of his touch. I leaned into his palm as he pulled the rubber band from my hair. My eyes drifted closed in surrender to his fingers massaging my scalp. I should have flinched, should have stopped him when his hand trailed down my neck and brushed the dirt from my shoulders before proceeding to my chest. Instead, my breath turned shallow and his palm rested over my breast. I’m not sure how long it stayed there. I’m not sure if I leaned into his large strong fingers or if he began massaging me without any provocation on my part. Maybe it was all a figment of a mind that needed to escape reality for just a short time. Whatever it was, I would have let it continue for eternity.

  Then it was gone.

  Makaio reached out and picked me up in his arms, squelching any resistance from me with a kiss on my nose. That small peck held so much promise, I couldn’t stand it. It didn’t matter that I’d known him little more than a day. It didn’t matter that there was no promise of tomorrow. All that mattered was now.

  He carried me up the rear steps of my apartment like Tarzan whisking Jane off into the jungle. A new adventure waiting to rock my world. On the landing, he stopped and stared at me. This was it.

  “Do you have a key?”

  My mind was blank. His lips were moving. I heard the words, but the only thing I could comprehend was lust demanding to be sated. “Excuse me?”

  His lips turned up in a devilish grin.

  “Unless you want me to bust down your door, I need a key to get in your apartment.”

  “Oh, it’s above the door.”

  His smile disappeared. “That’s not a very safe place to put your key.”

  “I know.” I could hear how stupid I sounded, but I was so caught off guard by the animalistic attraction I had for him, I couldn’t think straight. Hell, at this point, I wouldn’t have cared if he kicked down my door.

  He reached up and grabbed the key with ease as I held onto his neck. Once he got the door unlocked, he pushed inside with his backside, then kicked the door closed behind us. His visual perusal of my small living space didn’t faze me as he carried me across the sparsely furnished studio and laid me down on the couch, but his moves struck me at my core. You know that sexy way a guy lays a girl down on the bed in the movies and then lays down on top of her? And you think, ‘Man, he’s gotta be crushing her.’

  Makaio had perfected the move. There was no crushing involved, just pure sensual enticement in all the right places. Our eyes still locked, my head sinking in the throw pillows, his mouth mere inches from mine, and I couldn’t seem to breathe.

  Damn he was good.

  In the deep recesses of my brain, I heard my conscience shout, ‘This isn’t real!’ and ‘You don’t know him!’ But I didn’t care.

  I expected him to go for it, wanted him to go for it, needed him to go for it. Instead, he broke our intimate contact and rose from the couch. No scooting or smooshing, just one fluid move before he disappeared into the kitchenette. Fear of breaking the magical spell of what I just knew was a mutual sexual desire, I didn’t move. The icemaker’s chatter created mental images of cubes melting wet trails across my breasts. My body screamed to be touched, so to hell with the ranting of my conscience.

  He was that good.

  Okay, look, this stuff never happens to me. This only happens in romantic novels. You know, like the books stacked under your bed or hidden in your closet? Surely, I’d died and gone to heaven.

  I guess I expected him to return buck naked with a hard-on from here to eternity but instead, I saw a towel full of ice, a glass of water and some ibuprofen.

  The demands of my body shrieked in protest. Like a spoiled child, I wanted to pound my fists on the floor and cry how unfair life was. I didn’t expect pampering. Didn’t want pampering. And I sure as hell didn’t need pampering!

  Hua. He sucked.

  Makaio placed the towel on my now blue-green cankle and held out the glass of water and the medication. I took the pills, still looking up at him, waiting for him to do something…anything.

  He took the glass, took a drink himself and set it on the table. I was a deer in the headlights the whole time. He stacked pillows under my foot and sat down on the edge of the couch, spreading his body alongside me, careful not to bump my foot. Without a word, he pulled me under his arm and closed his eyes. As I laid there with every nerve ending in my body ready for sex, his breathing evened out, and he fell asleep holding me in his arms.

  I was cuddling with an incredibly hot guy who I thought was a bad boy, but I was the only one having dirty thoughts. Every fiber of my being demanded sex. And he was asleep. Was this real?r />
  Chapter Eleven

  I’m not sure how much time passed before I woke up. Wiping the little pool of drool from the corner of my mouth, I looked up and realized I was lying on top of Makaio, my legs straddling him. His breathing was still low and even, his face smooth and angelic in his repose.

  His hand, however, was cupping my ass and driving it into the part of his body I had thought would be meeting mine…without clothes.

  Slowly, I pulled his hand off while watching his face for a flicker of consciousness. With each breath I took, I inched his hand away from my body. Makaio shifted, stopping my escape and freeing his hand to grab my ass even lower. My heart stopped as his fingertips caressed the spot I had been dying for him to touch. I stared at his serene expression. Even peacefully asleep, the man knew where to find it. I forgot all about my attempted getaway and let him weave his magic.

  My eyes closed with submission as I came up the backside of a wave of pleasure. My body shuttered with release as I crested and tumbled down the other side of an orgasmic swell.

  Holy shit!

  I laid the side of my face back on his chest and listened to the even beat of his heart. My own hammered erratically against his, and I debated with myself about the costs I’d pay if I took total advantage of him while he slept. So far, he’d been the giver. I was innocent of any crime and his sleep walking hands had freed my body from the prison he and Pai had sentenced it to. Yet even asleep, he still dangled the keys in my face. The beast within me demanded freedom.

  I had to get out of there before I did something I really regretted. Yeah, the orgasms would be even better if he was awake, but after experiencing a little relief, my conscience had returned and I wasn’t sure I wanted to pay the price. It wasn’t the thought of prison that stopped me, it was the possibility of rejection. His constant state of arousal told me he was up for action, but he’d had the opportunity, and he’d chosen to sleep.

  I’m no angel. I’d checked out every inch of his body before I fell asleep and right now, I was feeling it pressed hard against me. If he had woken up and said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” I would be devastated. I shouldn’t have let his hands wander, but I did, and I wasn’t about to regret the experience.