Beach Happens (Hawaii Heat, #2)

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  "Don't play games. We can go to another spot," she said. Pissing matches never ended well.

  "Do you feel safe?"

  "Yeah," she said.

  "Are you having a good time?"

  Michaela nodded. "The best."

  "Then we're staying."

  He was so stubborn, she wanted to scream.

  "You go first," he said. "I want to watch and make sure they don't try anything funny with you. I'll be close enough to burn them if they do."

  "Be careful. It's not worth it. I can take a dunking. It wouldn’t be the first time." Most of the time, the people she encountered surfing were the nicest and laid back people she’d ever met. Then there were other times, when some misogynistic jerkoff thought he owned the ocean.

  “Not on my watch,” Marcus said.

  But by the time they got back up to the break, the guy was nowhere in the lineup. The tension eased from her chest, and she held hands with Marcus while they studied the waves. There were a bunch of people ahead of them, so it was another long wait for a wave.

  "Have I mentioned that I'm going to fuck you against the wall as soon as we get back to my place?" he said in her ear.

  "You've been thinking about this all this time?" she asked, rubbing her thumb over his wrist.

  "I've been alternating between that and with eating your sweet pussy and having you ride me."

  She shivered as his rough voice tingled through her. If she was crazy for sleeping with a man she just met, Michaela didn't care. Even if it turned out to be a one-night stand, it was better sex than doing herself or going back to Gerald.

  "How am I supposed to be all Zen like and ride the wave like a surf goddess while I'm thinking of your cock?" she whispered back in his ear.

  Eventually it was her turn on the wave again and she was in perfect position. She popped up quickly and saw a stranger snaking in on her.

  Shit.

  She was going to have to do some tricky maneuvers to avoid him. He was heading right for her.

  "Behind you," Marcus yelled.

  Whipping around, she saw Marcus on her six. He was coming in low and fast. The three of them were on a collision course.

  Marcus maneuvered around her easily, cutting fast and putting himself between her and the stranger who seemed to be gunning for them. For a moment, Michaela thought it was just some Barney being a dick, but as Marcus surfed closer, the man kicked his board at him.

  Michaela shrieked and hit the water, not wanting any part of that. The wave pummeled her over, but she was expecting to feel like a rag doll in a washing machine so she relaxed and went with the flow. When she made it out of the white water, she immediately looked around for the Marcus and the stranger.

  The stranger was gone, but Marcus was paddling in towards the shore. As she caught up with him, she saw the blood.

  Oh no. Sharks would be zeroing in on that soon, if they hadn't already.

  Not caring that she looked like a gremmie, she kicked with one leg as she paddled to catch up with him.

  "Marcus," she cried.

  His scalp was cut open down to his forehead. It had just missed his eye. "Took the fin on the top of my head," he muttered. “It looks worse than it is.”

  "Let's get you out of here."

  "I'm going to need you to drive. I'm shorry," he cleared his throat. "Sh-sh-orry."

  "Okay, that's enough. Don't talk." He was slurring his words and his eyes kept rolling back in his head. They hit the shallows, and she started yelling. "I need an ambulance. Help!"

  "I'm fine," he said. "I just need to take a nap." He rested his head on his arms.

  "No," she cried. "Wake up." Michaela splashed him and tugged him on his board to shore.

  She kept looking over her shoulder to see if the blood had attracted any sharks, but she didn't see a fin or a shadow. "Help!" she cried again. "Blood in the water. Head injury. Marcus, please wake up." She shook his arm.

  "Leave me alone, Michaela. I need to get shome shleep."

  "You have a concussion. You need to stay awake. Help!"

  "Shtop yelling. I have a headache."

  Finally, the life guards heard her, and they ran with a stretcher to Marcus.

  Chapter Eight

  As they put Marcus in the ambulance, Michaela leaned down and kissed him. "I'll be right behind you."

  "Love you," he muttered.

  She froze, gaping at him. Two years and Gerald never said those words to her. It's been three days. No one falls in love in three days.

  He's delirious.

  He thinks you're someone else.

  Michaela couldn't think about it right now. But damn, did her heart want to. Tossing Marcus’ beach towel over his leather seat, she slid into the driver's side and adjusted the seat and mirror.

  As she followed the ambulance to the urgent care facility in Kihei, she fumbled to turn Marcus' phone on. The beeps and buzzes sounded for a good three minutes as his notifications caught up. She took her eyes off the road long enough to scroll through his contents and find Amelia's name. Putting the phone in the cradle mounted on the dashboard, she toggled on the speaker phone.

  Thankfully, Amelia answered on the first ring. "I don't have the fucking numbers for you, yet."

  "Amelia, it's Michaela."

  "Michaela? Why are you on Marcus' phone?"

  "There's been an accident. No, that's not true. One of Tetsuo's goons shot his surfboard at Marcus' head."

  "What? Marcus has been shot in the head?"

  "No. He's got a concussion, and his head is split open from being hit by a surfboard."

  "Does he need stitches?"

  "I think so. It was bleeding so much. We're going to the urgent care center now. He's in an ambulance. I'm driving his car."

  "We'll be there as soon as we can."

  "Wait," Michaela cried. "Don't hang up. Can you bring him a change of clothes? He's going to be freezing. He doesn't have anything with him but his bathing suit."

  "Not a problem."

  "And, I hate to ask this, but could you bring me a cover up or a dress, too? I'm in a bikini and a towel."

  "You got it. I'm going to fax or email Marcus' medical information to them and then we'll be on our way."

  "Okay," Michaela said.

  "Are you sure Tetsuo is behind this?" Amelia asked.

  "Pretty sure."

  "Stay safe. We'll be there as soon as we can."

  

  "I can't believe they stapled my head," Marcus groaned.

  "I offered to do it," Samuel said, "But for some reason they turned me down."

  Marcus' head was throbbing, even with the extra strength Tylenol and the lidocaine numbing his head. "You brought me pants. You've helped enough." He was pretty sure Amelia had picked out the clothes. Samuel would have brought neon green and pink plaid Bermuda shorts, if left to his own devices.

  Marcus had still been pretty out of it when Amelia and Samuel burst in. Amelia had immediately taken Michaela away, which he would have protested if he hadn't been so damned loopy. His head was a little clearer now. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep for a week, preferably with Michaela snuggled up next to him.

  Fucking cock blocked by Tetsuo Hojo.

  "When can I get out of here?"

  "They're discharging you now. You get to be woken up every couple of hours for the next day. Plus, no strenuous activities. That means, no surfing or playing tonsil hockey with the wahine in the teeny bikini."

  "Where is Michaela?"

  "I had Amelia drive her back to her hotel."

  "What? Why?" Marcus tried to stand but the floor rushed up to meet his head.

  Samuel caught him before he could face plant and muscled him back into his chair. "That's why."

  "Tetsuo knows who she is. She's not safe. What if he kidnaps her?"

  "Calm down. For all we know, it was just some aggro in the lineup that had nothing to do with Tetsuo. Michaela said the guy who hit you wasn't the same one that pulled your lea
sh."

  "Do you believe that?" Marcus felt nauseous as hell and wished the room would stop spinning.

  "No. I think the fucking coward was behind this. But Michaela is too new for him to try and ransom her back to us."

  "Pay it," he snarled. "Promise me. If I'm out of it, you'll pay whatever he wants to keep her safe."

  Samuel held up his hands. "Easy. I'll see what I can do."

  "I don't have her number," Marcus said. "I don't know where she's staying. Or how long she'll be in Maui. Or where she's from. I don't know anything about her."

  "It's okay. I'm sure Amelia will get the skinny on her. You know how she is."

  "What if she doesn't?" Marcus stood up, managing not to sway this time. He hated feeling weak. "I'm afraid Michaela's spooked, and I'll never see her again. Text Amelia and tell her to get her information. Have her send her a dozen roses too."

  Samuel blinked at him. "Are you feeling all right?"

  "No, you ass. My head almost got knocked off by a surfboard. The subcontractors are dicking around on the renovations, and my girl doesn't know she's mine yet."

  "Yup," Samuel said. "I can see where that would be a problem. How long has she been your girl, since you don't know a damned thing about her?"

  Marcus frowned. His knees wobbled and he sat back down. "My head hurts."

  The nurse came in at that moment with a wheelchair. "Keep taking the Ibuprofen up to eight hundred milligrams. The doctor included a pain killer prescription with your exit papers for the next couple of days. After, the first twenty-four hours, though."

  Marcus' locked gazes with his brother. “What type of painkillers?”

  "OxyContin."

  Marcus heard the roar of the ocean between his ears. Samuel shot to his feet and stood chest to chest with the nurse.

  "No,” Samuel said. “Rip up the prescription. He doesn’t want it."

  "You are not his doctor."

  "No, I'm his brother. He used to be addicted to opiate pain killers.”

  Marcus flinched. That made him sound like a douchebag. It was more complicated than that. Actually, it had been pretty easy. It started out harmless, until it wasn’t.

  “He can't have them. The Tylenol will be fine."

  The nurse opened and closed his mouth. "That should be on his chart and in his medical records."

  "It's not something we like to have written down," Samuel said.

  Yeah, God forbid there was something written down that might embarrass his father’s political career.

  "You better rethink that. In a different circumstance, he could have been given them without anyone knowing the harm we were causing."

  "It was a long time ago," Marcus said, hating how his head was swimming. He didn't need Samuel to fight his battles. "Over ten years." He had been in high school, playing football. Tore his ACL to shit. And being young and stupid, he went back to playing too soon. When the prescriptions ran out, there were always other doctors willing to give a rich kid a break.

  He took a deep breath. It was another lifetime. Another Marcus. It was so tempting. It had been a long time. He could handle two. Just to take the edge off the pain.

  "All it takes is one pill," Samuel said.

  "You don't know that," Marcus argued.

  "I know you're not getting them, so shut the fuck up."

  Marcus held up his hands in surrender. "Can I go now?"

  Chapter Nine

  Michaela conned Amelia to taking her to Walmart. She bought a cheap suitcase and enough clothes to last her a week and a half. She wouldn't be winning any fashion awards, but she'd be comfortable.

  "Don't suppose a real room opened up yet?" she asked as they got into the car again.

  "Sunday," Amelia promised.

  "It doesn't have to be a suite," she said.

  "I'm going to take care of you. It means a lot to me that you were there with Marcus. Is there something going on between the two of you?" Amelia gave the shaka to a driver who let her pull out into the street ahead of him.

  Love you.

  Marcus said that. It made Michaela all giggly, to think about that. Even if she was pretty sure it was because Marcus just had his bell rung, and was probably picturing spreadsheets when he said it.

  "It's too soon to tell." But his words made her rethink everything. She had been willing to settle for Gerald, more for her father’s sake than anything else. Gerald never wanted to be naughty in the car or take her surfing. He certainly wouldn’t have gotten her off without wanting immediate reciprocation. She didn’t love Marcus, but she loved the all burning sexual frenzy that came over her when he touched her. He had said he wanted an intense affair. She was on board with that. Perhaps, it might lead to something more. But for the moment, she was content to enjoy his attention.

  "I'm sorry I'm making you lie to him."

  "He really hasn't asked much about me,” Michaela realized. How could he love her? He didn’t even know where she lived or what she did for a living. It was silly to get all gushy about words a concussed man mumbled. “I've been able to side step his questions, and he doesn't push."

  "I'm just afraid if we tell him, he'll kick you out."

  "I don't think he'll do that, but he might feel obligated to have me shack up with him, and I'm not ready for that type of pressure." Although, it could have gotten to that level pretty damned quick. Or it would have, before Marcus' head wounds.

  Samuel called while Amelia was driving. She let it go to voice mail and then found a spot to pull over and listen to it. The boys were on their way back from the hospital. Marcus was groggy and in pain, but he'd have a bunch of people looking in on him tonight. She'd offered to help and Amelia gave her the morning shift. Michaela was grateful because she was bone tired.

  They stopped at Zippy's on the way back from Walmart. Michaela was a little disappointed that was about as exotic as a Denny's, but the food was good. And the malasadas at the end of the meal made up for it. Both of them took home a bag stuffed full of the little doughnuts.

  After they got back to the resort, Amelia hurried to make everything ready for Marcus’ arrival. Michaela hauled her suitcase up the stairs, pushed through the large plastic sheeting, and let herself into her room. Setting her new stuff on the armchair, she opened the drawer where she had tossed her phone this morning. Had it only been this morning? It seemed like a week.

  Michaela stuffed a malasada into her mouth while she checked messages. Three from Gerald.

  Lying down on the bed, she stared up at the ceiling and pressed play.

  This isn't like you. I'm worried. Your family is worried. If you're not coming home, I'm coming out there to find you.

  "Good luck with that," she said with her mouth full.

  The next message was equally entertaining.

  Sandy spent all day at your condo. Your luggage was finally delivered at five thirty. It's safe in your bedroom. Are you sure you don't want me to bring it when I come down on Sunday? I booked my flight, I'll be landing at 10:04 A.m. Can you pick me up from the airport? Give me a call. I've got something I want to bounce off you.

  "Bounce this," she said, lifting her left boob in protest. Gerald was going to be in for a fucking surprise on Sunday. A part of her considered picking him up at the airport, if he brought her Victoria Secret lingerie so she could show them off to Marcus. But then the thought of letting him wait without a word from her seemed like poetic justice.

  Michaela pressed play on the last message, wondering what else he had to say.

  Hey, still waiting for your call. Sandra wasn't able to find your engagement ring.

  "You had her rifle through my things?" she shouted. Then had to replay the message because she missed what he said next.

  I hope you're still wearing it. I think we should get married on the beach out there.

  "Not a chance."

  But in any event, I just wanted to know it was safe. That ring cost me ten grand. Not that you're not worth it. Just give me a call and let me know y
ou still have it.

  "I still have it. It's in a crushed box on my floor."

  Except it wasn't.

  Michaela flew off the bed and searched for it. It wasn't there. It wasn't under the bed or in any of the drawers. Her trash can was empty also.

  She called Joely's number.

  "Hey Michaela, I heard you dented the Kahuna's head."

  "Not me, one of Tetsuo's goons did."

  "Shut the front door," she said.

  "No lie. The reason I'm calling, though, is did you happen to see a ring box on my floor when you cleaned up in here today?"

  "I was off today. Let me check with Kevan. Why? Is it missing?"

  "Yeah. It had my engagement ring in it."

  "Shit!" Joely said. "I'll try and track him down. He's a fuckwit. If it was on the floor, there's a good chance he tossed it. The good news is the dumpsters don't empty until tomorrow morning. The bad news is we're at capacity. I'll round up the troops and see if we can help. Meantime, check the dumpster out by your building. He might have gotten lazy and tossed it into the contractor's dumpster."

  "Okay, thanks." Michaela stuffed her phone back into her pocket. "Ten thousand reasons why I should give a fuck about this ring," she muttered, as panic fluttered through her. She ran down the stairs, and went over to the dumpster.

  Opening it up, Michaela gagged from the stench. There were boards and wires in there, but Joely had pegged it. There were also three large garbage bags in there that looked like they could be from the hotel rooms. Of course, Michaela couldn't reach them. Looking around, she found some old pails from Home Depot she could stack and then stand on. Wobbling on them, she steadied herself on the side of the dumpster, throwing her leg over before hopping inside.

  Holding her breath, she tore the first bag apart. Gross. She wished she had gloves on. Hell, a full hazmat suit would have worked for her too. The malasadas threatened to make a reappearance, but she kept it together. There was rotted fruit and empty boxes and cups. It looked like it was beach garbage.

  Great.

  She was poking through the second bag when she felt that someone was watching her. Looking up, she saw a man in a security uniform coming towards her.

  Fu-uck.

  There was no way she was going to hop out of here and make a run for it, so she continued looking through the trash. She was on the third bag, when she caught sight of something that could be the ring box.