by Angel Payne
Heat detonated across his face. “Shit. I didn’t mean—it had nothing to do with you!”
“So if you’d come in and not found Kellan and I together, you’d still be singing his praises as the magical man slut?”
The image she brought up, of she and Kell pulling the goo-goo-mushy at the stove, brought a fresh mix of inexplicable rage. “Goddamnit, Hokulani. You deserve better than what he—”
Kell’s roar cut him off. “Bommer, for fuck’s sake, let it go!”
He ripped out a fresh glower at the man. “Are you capable of staying out of this conversation for two seconds?”
“Stop.” It was a tight utterance from Hokulani, which Kell easily ignored.
“Are you capable of keeping your head straight and seeing her without your fantasies wound in?”
“Fantasies?” He pushed forward again. “I buried Luna, you asshat. My ‘fantasies’ got dissolved when I watched the waves swallow her ashes. I don’t get the luxury of fantasies anymore!”
“All right,” Lani charged again, “stop.”
“Is that so?” Kell cocked his head. “So what do I have to blame for the shitty shot you called in Indonesia, huh? Simple dumbass-ery? Did you watch the waves swallow your brain, too?”
“Damn it!” Her voice now broke the air on a scream. “I said stop!”
Tait was one move ahead of her. He turned and let his head drop, unconcerned if his “buddy” witnessed the defeat in the move. Like Kell would care. The guy had a caustic streak; Tait had always known that, though never imagined he’d be on the receiving end of it. But Rebel Stafford, the team’s resident southern boy philosopher, had a favorite expression. If the chair’s too comfy, wait five minutes.
Who knew it applied to friendships, too?
He should be grateful for what life had given him with Kell. Tait had joined the Army to justify his existence, to find the purpose Dad always said he never had. Getting one of the closest buddies of his life had been an added bonus of the journey, one he’d never expected to keep this long. He wasn’t the kind of person people stuck around for. Dad had been tenacious about that lesson, too.
Behind him, Hokulani’s hisses peppered the air. Since he’d stomped his way back to the living room, he couldn’t discern what she said. Kell’s comeback was a clear crack, though.
“What? He started it, damn it.”
Tait clamped down the urge to bellow a retort. He turned the indignation inward, instead—and muttered the words during his march toward the front door.
“Fine, asshole. I started it. And you can deal with me ending it, too.”
* * * * *
After he slammed out of the house, it’d been painfully apparent that he had no fucking clue about his bearings. He didn’t want to calm down long enough to think much about it, either. Flashbacks from last night gave up images of a bamboo walkway and some rose bushes, neither of which were visible from the front of the house. That left him with a choice between a long paved driveway to the main road, or a packed dirt truck trail that bordered a huge paddock containing several dozen horses lazing their way through the July day.
In his state of mind, animal therapy felt like the right way to go. Besides, the trail was drenched in shade as the sun rapidly neared its high point. The decision was a good one; the pastoral peace buffed out the edges of his rage within a few minutes. A few times, the horses daring to meet his gaze were rewarded with a small smile.
It didn’t take him long to start understanding Hokulani’s fierce devotion to this place. With the small mountain that cushioned one side and the thick forest along the other, the property was a self-contained paradise where the grass grew thick, the flowers scented the air, and the wind blew warm. What had she called it? Hale Anelas. Again accessing distant knowledge from language training, he knew that meant the home of something. His money was on something like fairies, gods, or angels—creatures that turned this land into something truly magical and serene.
Though whoever gashed the air with their angry bellow might have an argument about that.
Tait heard the shout as he cleared the corner of the pasture, and planned on returning to the beach through the grove of banana, mango, and breadfruit trees ahead. Instead, his attention was tugged to the right, where he caught sight of more fencing, this time the border of a small riding corral. The sound of rapid hoof beats preceded the spirited swish of a dark tan horse’s tail, which brushed the fence once before disappearing.
More cantering. A heavy thud, like something hitting the ground hard. Another violent yell was followed by a youth’s voice spewing the f word. Then again.
The situation suddenly earned itself a little recon.
Tait walked along the edge of the barn until he could see the whole corral. When he did, his curious frown grew to a full scowl.
He would have attached a laugh to the look if not for his concern about the agitated Palomino filly skittering around the enclosure. Following the filly—correction, chasing the animal—with a lead rope and training pole was a lanky teenager who shared Hokulani’s striking eyes and full mouth. The boy also had thick black hair in a spiky short cut that showed off his strong neck and jaw.
Tait sheltered no doubt that the kid was related in some way to the goddess back at the house. It was just a shame that he didn’t share Hokulani’s smarts.
“Fuck!” the kid spat again. “Damn it, I’m trying to help your ass here!”
“Do you kiss your mama with that mouth, boy?”
The kid lurched to his feet and flung a dagger of a glare. “My mother’s dead, asshole, so back off.”
Since they were skipping down the path of childhood traumas, Tait let his own act as advisor for a reaction. He envisioned Uncle Jonah appearing and scratching his cheek with that aw-shucks smile before issuing advice along the lines of getting a pissy ’coon to come around faster with a muffin than a stick. Damn what he wouldn’t give for just one day with the man again.
“My mom’s gone, too,” he said softly. And I’d give a row of teeth to find her again. “So I get it.”
The kid straightened the pole and rope, preparing to make another try for the horse’s obedience. “You don’t get shit, Sergeant Bommer, so don’t try your Army Jedi mind tricks on me. I’m not some dumbshit foreign hostile.”
He held back another laugh—barely. “Could’ve fooled me,” he mumbled through a smirk.
“What the hell’d you say?” the kid accused.
A verbal muffin was in order. “How do you know who I am?” The casual simulation came easy, since he and Kell had used it on Benson’s boys last night.
The kid rolled his eyes. “You think I came home to find one guy krunked-up in my living room and the other napping on the office couch with my sister, and not find out who the fuckers are?”
That brought a confused pause. Kellan likely had a wallet in tow last night, but the only things he’d carried from Franz’s place were his shirt, shorts and the flock of geese on his vodka bottle. “By reading my ‘krunked-up’ mind?” he finally challenged.
“By using my sober one.” The kid didn’t take his eyes off the filly. Thank God he got that part of the process right. “Rush’s ID gave me a clue about both of you. For you, I snapped a shot on my phone and texted it to Franz for a positive check. He was very helpful with the positive scope…and a few backup details, too.”
Tait’s gut clenched by the way the boy emphasized the last of that. “Wonderful,” he mumbled, just as the kid took advantage of a break in the horse’s attention to try and slip the lead rope around her neck again. Not a chance. The filly bucked at him, causing him to take another textbook ass plant. Tait couldn’t hold back his chuckle any longer. “Franz may have given you some dirt on me, kid, but in the filth department, I’d say we’re even.”
“Fuck you!”
“Strike that. You officially take the scum crown now.” He cocked a brutally placid stare back through the corral slats. “It’s Leo, right? Aren’t you suppos
ed to be going to some fancy academy? They let you spew filthy language like that at your special school, Leo?”
“They let you turn into a pussy like that in Spec Ops, Sergeant? Aren’t you used to much worse than this?”
Considering the morning he’d already endured, the kid’s Prince Snotty act should’ve made him leave and let the idiot earn a hoof—or four—in the face. The sooner he left this place behind, with all memories of the blood-heating, soul-stirring woman back at the house, the better. But because of her, he turned toward the barn instead. He remembered Benson taunting Lani by invoking the legacy of both her parents, so Leo was the only family she had. If he left the kid to tame the filly and Leo wound up with a serious brain injury because of his stupidity, Tait would never excuse himself. And the list of unforgivable shit in his life was too damn long already.
As he’d hoped, he found some sets of extra boots sitting in the corner near the barn door. Barbecue bonus: several pairs of jeans hanging on some pegs on the wall. That made sense, considering the island’s humid weather didn’t make it tolerable to drag down one’s legs in denim for hours.
He found some boots in his size and a pair of jeans that were close. Though the pants fit low on his hips, they’d get the job done.
After changing his shorts for the jeans, he walked back out to the corral. Leo didn’t miss his cue to let out a mocking grunt. “You trying out for a romance novel photo shoot in those jeans?”
He moved on without pausing, stepping up on the fence then swinging a leg over. “And do you want to get this horse in a bridle today, or not?”
Leo’s eyes went wide. Well gee fucking whillikers, the boy actually seemed surprised—and humbled. “Yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah, I do.”
“Then shut up and listen.”
A huge slice of the kid’s attitude slid away as he stepped back. “Her name is Isis.”
He allowed a smile to slip free. “One of the most important goddesses of all time.”
Leo rolled his eyes again, though the action came with humor more than attitude. “Well, it fits. And she knows it.” As he extended the pole to Tait, a full crack appeared in his veneer. Beyond it was a core of pure tenderness. “I’ve been trying to get this around her neck for weeks. She doesn’t get the pressure that’s on. If she isn’t fully saddle-trained by the time Benson gets his claws into this place, he’ll sell her to the glue factory along with the others.”
He didn’t waste time on challenging the kid’s assumption. Even if the literal translation of the statement wasn’t accurate, real fear underlined Leo’s words. After a few minutes with Gunter Benson last night, Tait couldn’t blame the kid. The man carried a “concern” for the land only as far as it served him. If Isis wasn’t pulling her weight—or slogging it up and down the beach in use to the resort—she would be sold, perhaps to a fate worse than a glue factory.
“You hang onto that,” he said, indicating the pole. “You’re going to be just as much a part of this, if you want the lesson to stick.”
Leo nodded eagerly. “Good plan. So maybe you’ll distract her while I sneak up and—”
He smacked the kid on the side of his well-groomed head. “Did you look up how to do this on YouTube or something?” He chuffed when the deep blush on Leo’s face supplied that answer. “Did you research how to date girls on there, too?”
“Fuck no!”
“Then what made you think you could learn to win this girl like that?”
He let Leo stew about that while he walked around so Isis could see him. He took gentle, slow steps. The horse snorted, stamped a hoof, and backed away. He followed her with his head bent low, hands at his sides. When Isis stopped, he dropped to a knee, letting her sniff the air to get used to his presence.
“What the hell are you doing?” Leo charged.
Tait turned his head up, letting the filly watch his soft movements. He picked his reply to the boy with care. He had no idea what Franz had disclosed about him, though he doubted that his captain, who was a fellow and regular Dominant at their favorite BDSM dungeon back home, would’ve disclosed that morsel about Tait’s personality. Nevertheless, many of the tenets of this situation could be culled directly from the beginning stages of a loving and honest D/s relationship. Not that he’d possessed any desire to exercise those principles lately.
“Tell me something,” he began. “When you’re going in for the major impression on a girl, like wanting her to beg you for the good night kiss in a few hours, what are the most important steps to consider?”
“Well, you gotta have swagger,” the boy asserted. “Impress her with your moves, your mojo.”
Tait exercised his turn for the eye roll now. He leaned over and let the idiot have the full, dismayed impact of it. “Seriously?”
“Uh…yeah. What the hell’s wrong with—”
“Dude, if you were a girl and saw Leo Kail sauntering into the room with that ‘tude, would you be dreaming of some lip action?” He let the teen mull that over as he swiveled to face Isis again. Gently, he reached up to stroke the animal’s muzzle with the backs of his knuckles. “Before a guy locks you in a harness, you just want to know you can trust him, don’t you, girl?” He kept his voice low, his touch respectful. “You want to be sure he’s going to treat you right. That your obedience gets you a nice reward.”
He pulled his hand away. Stretched into half a crouch, and stepped back a little.
Isis trailed him by a slow step, dipping her head and pushing at him for more.
“Fuck,” Leo uttered. “That’s…amazing.”
Tait chuckled and shook his head. “That’s just showing our girl how valuable her compliance is.” He turned his hand over, rubbing her with the flat of his palm. “You want to be good, don’t you, baby? You simply need to feel safe when you are.”
Just as quietly, Leo walked back over. An amazed smile curved the kid’s lips, and he ran a reverent hand down the horse’s neck. “Wow. You did that in, like, five minutes.”
Tait gave the kid a friendly shoulder clap. “Couldn’t have without the foundation you clearly built. You just needed a few pointers on closing the deal.” As Isis emitted a fluttering sigh, he instructed, “I’m going to step back again. Try the lead line now.”
He made good on his word. Though Isis gave a little protesting nicker, she only jerked at the lead line a few times. Leo soothed her with soft tongue clicks and praising murmurs. “Good girl. That’s my beauty.”
“Nice,” Tait complimented. “You’re doing great, man.”
His chest warmed with a duality of sensation when Leo sent a grin of thanks. It was incredible to connect with the boy, to watch him accomplish an important goal because he got smart and listened. But “torture session” got a cruel new meaning with every glance at Leo’s smile, and noticing every stunning similarity it shared with his sister. The deep dimples. The slight lift higher on the left side of his mouth, lending a mischievous air. The compassion in those silvery-bright eyes that spoke volumes about what the kid had already been through in life. Yeah, that one, especially. He and Shay shared a similar glint in their gazes.
Damn. Damn.
Had he been sent to this island and plopped next door to the woman as a blessing or a curse? Was Hokulani a sign to him or a punishment for him? And what good did it do to agonize over the answers? He wouldn’t be seeing the woman anymore. He couldn’t stand by and watch Slash slick her up with his Romeo act when the guy planned on carrying the whole plot through to its crap-fest of an end, figurative as it would be, in two weeks. Here’s to my love! O, true apothecary; thy drugs are quick! Thus with a kiss I die…
Gag.
“Bommer!”
Leo’s eager whisper drew him back. He was glad to do so. They both held their breaths as Isis, remaining remarkably still, allowed the kid to fit the simple rope head collar on. “Fucking awesome,” he stated. “Good job, Leo.”
“Aha.” The kid chuckled as he rewarded the filly with ample caresses. “I knew y
ou had at least one decent f bomb in there somewhere.”
Tait huffed. “I’ve been known to indulge from time to time.”
“So…uhhh…speaking of indulging…”
“Yeah?” He didn’t hide his suspicious tone though allowed Leo to see the teasing smirk he attached.
“Does this psychobabble shit really work on girls, too?”
Chapter Eight
This wasn’t right.
Lani was as sure of that truth as she was of the air in her lungs, the beat of her heart—and the tension that hadn’t left Kellan’s eyes in the last three days. Seventy-two hours in which he’d chosen to remain at Hale Anelas instead of going back to Franz’s place to smooth things out with Tait. The brief trip he’d taken yesterday for some fresh clothes hadn’t counted, especially because he deliberately took it after Leo announced he was meeting Tait for a horse ride up the coast, ensuring an “all clear” status for Kellan’s trip.
The whole situation troubled her. Even more upsetting was when logic stepped in, telling her it shouldn’t. The guys had only a little over a week left here, and then it would be a miracle if either of them returned to the island. Why should it matter to her if their friendship was bashed beyond repair, and they chose to torpedo it and their careers in the names of pride and pigheadedness?
But even after her brief time with the men together, she knew the answer to that, too.
They were better than this.
They were worth more than this.
Franzen had known it when he’d moved the Army’s version of heaven and earth, then tossed in the keys to his family home, to give them this opportunity at repair. If their captain knew what was really happening instead, what would he do?
She’d tried posing that question to Kellan last night at dinner but received his version of a shutdown—which was to drop beneath the table, spread her legs, tear her panties free, and declare he was in the mood for a different kind of “tasty meal.” After his tongue had taken her body apart in a million orgasmic pieces, he’d dragged her to the floor, growling how he intended to make her scream for dessert. She’d done just that—three more times. Shit, shit, shit. If the man insisted on having the maturity of a fourteen year-old, was it necessary that he possess the sex drive of one, too?