by Angel Payne
His actual reaction was more devastating.
His heavy sigh delivered the first shock. It did nothing to prepare her for what she confronted in his stare, fixed on her with unalterable focus.
A sadness as profound as her own.
“You deserve the whole meal, Lani.” He brushed a strand of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. His murmur was musical as the waves against the sand. “And yeah, I know what I’m talking about. Leo and I haven’t only been discussing horses, swords, and condoms.”
“Aue.” The mutter left her on a shaky rasp. It did nothing to allay the frantic thunder of her heartbeat at the base of her throat. “What the hell has he said?”
“Nothing that didn’t stem out of his love.” He let his fingers slip down, trailing rich warmth on her skin, until they rested in the dip between her throat and collarbone. “And nothing I don’t agree with. You’ve had to be so strong for so long. Don’t you see? Someone should be serving you steak and lobster every day, making you smile every minute.”
Ohhhhh, hell.
Her senses swirled. Her body swayed. She steadied herself by grabbing his free hand. His fingers, long and steady beneath hers, were the anchor she needed to form her reply.
“I know you mean that. I can even feel how you do.” She squeezed him tighter. “But steak and lobster isn’t as easy as that. If it was, it wouldn’t be special.” She let her lips lift a little. “I was lucky to see that version of special until the day my parents died. They were smart enough to enjoy every bite of their steak and lobster. And the truth is, watching them all those years, seeing how happy they made each other, made me vow I wouldn’t accept anything less for my life.”
The corners of his eyes tightened in curiosity. “Even after the plane went down?”
“Especially then.” Surprise jolted her again. “Leo even told you about that?”
“The kid’s a real Chatty Cathy when he wants to be. But I’ll deny it if you tell him I gave up his game.”
“Your secret’s safe. But I’m still perplexed. Leo’s always been so shut off about all that. It hurts him to talk about it.”
He skimmed his hand back up to her nape, releasing her to bracket the other side, too. “You sure about that?”
She twisted her lips. “What does that mean?”
“Okay, rephrase. You sure it hurts him to talk about it?”
He didn’t back down from the statement, sweeping his strong thumbs to her cheeks, cranking up the force of his gaze. His eyes became a gold-drenched x-ray on her soul, exposing her truths like hairline fractures, only with more pain. It hurt. Too much.
She yanked away from him and stalked back into the house. “Weren’t you in the middle of telling me how you’re going to mind your own business from now on?”
“Something like that.” He followed her at a leisurely stroll, goading her annoyance all over again. “Back before you talked about yearning for steak and lobster but are okay settling for cookie crumbs.”
She spun a glare at him. “Says the guy who’s become the booze industry’s patron saint over the last six months.”
“And fooled most of the world while doing it.” His gaze didn’t flinch. “Which makes me a unique expert in the ways people cover up their pain and loneliness.”
She tucked in her chin and cocked her brows. “I’m not lonely, Tait. I’m busy. There’s a heartless bastard who wants to buy my childhood home out from under me. At the same time, I’m trying to keep the place running while playing mother, father, and big sister to a teenager who loves me one day then hates me the next.” She jabbed both her thumbs backward at her shoulders. “In case you haven’t noticed, the space up here is packed these days.”
At first, all he did was pull in one slow breath and let it out with equal measure. Damn it, the man’s serenity tapped its bottomless source as he made his way back to her with deliberate steps. Or maybe he was siphoning his self-control off of hers. As he came closer on those endless legs, looming larger by the second, she couldn’t feel anything but the nettles which had been her nerves and the thunderstorm which had been her heartbeat.
Both sensations worsened as he raised his hands and framed her face again. Gods, it felt more wonderful than before. His torrid lava touch infused every inch of her limbs. Her lungs began to ache from holding her breath, working in concert with the soul that never wanted this moment to end. Just when she thought they’d burst from the effort, he slid his hold down, across the tops of her shoulders, until he grasped her by the crests of both arms.
“So that load feels pretty good, hmm?”
Yeah. It was official. He was leeching his composure straight off hers. “Wh-what the hell does that mean?” she managed. “Were you listening to anything I just said? You think I like all this pressure?”
He turned his hands over to brush her skin with his knuckles. “I haven’t known you long enough to even guess at everything you ‘like,’ dreamgirl. But my job requires observing a lot about people in a very little amount of time, and I know what the stiffness in these shoulders tells me.” He raised his gaze, amping it to x-ray intensity again. “I know what the shadows at the back of your eyes tell me.”
“Oh?” She cocked her head, making a stab at an open challenge. “Enlighten me, Mr. Peabody.”
He tilted his own head, matching her angle so their stares met again. “I think the weight has become so normal for you that giving it up would be strange…even terrifying. It’s like the big silver dome on your food tray, keeping everything and everyone out, because it’s safer that way. Nothing to feel, nothing to get rotten…nothing to get hurt.”
His hands never left her shoulders, but it felt like he’d punched her in the gut. “Stop it,” she whispered.
Her protest went unnoticed. “But when nothing gets in, nothing gets out, either. Underneath the dome, you’re wilting, aren’t you? You’re needing, wanting, begging for something more.”
Okay, now she needed to get furious. The ignition for the rage was there; she felt it burning through her chest and the base of her throat—only when the heat rose, it turned to liquid. She glared at him through the tears. “You have no right,” she rasped. “I’m not Luna, and you have no right!”
He didn’t drop his hands. But his head flinched as if she’d thrown a physical blow. The sun, dipping lower, filtered its way in to flow across his face, so classic, carved, strong…
So wanting.
Don’t. Don’t want me. Please.
“Yeah,” he finally uttered. “You’re right.” He pulled away slowly and gave an apologetic shrug. “Guess I overstepped again.”
“It’s all right.”
“I know. And thanks. But before you turn and stomp your sweet ass out of here, let me set something straight. Even if God had cloned you after fucking Orphan Annie, I’d have said exactly what I did. The fact that you’ve got those eyes and that hair and that body—yeah, it’s damn nice—but that’s where Luna stops and you begin. And I’m sorry if the other night, and the grey geese soaring in my head, led you to think that I’m not wise enough to know the difference.”
She folded her arms and threw out a shrug of her own. “You’re not an idiot, Tait, nor did I ever think you were. You’re serving under Franzen, and he’s a picky koa when it comes to the guys on his team.”
Like a morning swell on the waves, an answering smile rolled beneath his lips. “Damn. You’re one of a kind, woman. And yeah, if Luna were alive today, I’m sure she’d like you, too.”
She blushed and punched his shoulder in retaliation for it. “You still barely know me.”
He pointed a couple of fingers back at his chest. “The guy who has to add people up fast for a living, remember? Also the guy who’s spent a shitload of time with a brother who can’t stop talking about you, and will be eating something besides chips and salsa tonight because of you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him in blatant skepticism, though the three bags of tortilla strips on the kitchen
counter declared his statement more true than she’d like.
Tait leaned against the back of the couch before continuing on, with warmth suffusing his face, “I know you two would’ve been good friends. You’d balance out her pragmatism with your spirituality. You’d show her a woman can be just as powerful in flip-flops as stilettos. She loved creating art to make the world more beautiful, but you see the world as art already.” He paused, cocking his head once more to deeply study her. “Yet in many ways, you’re exactly like her. And for seeing all of that, I can’t and won’t apologize.”
Lani shifted again. Don’t ask it. Don’t ask it. “In many ways…like what?”
He straightened his gaze, sure and steady about it. “In your soul,” he answered. “In the fire of it, the unfaltering conviction of it. The way you’ll fight for what it knows to be right, no matter how dangerous the fallout is for you. The beauty it gives to your complete bravery.”
It was suddenly very hot in the room.
Lani coughed, jabbing a toe at the floor.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Again. ‘Overstep’ seems to be my new call-sign today.”
“It’s okay,” she blurted. “I asked, right?” The words depleted her air. Damn it, she’d remember to breathe again in a second…hopefully.
Aue! Was this what a girl got when she simply wanted to make sure a guy wasn’t starving to death? She’d come here bearing groceries and was leaving with a mind that been torn open, a soul requiring a HazMat sign from being irradiated so much…and a body that was sinking fast into a quicksand of need, inspired by a man who’d barely touched her.
The best friend of the man she was sleeping with.
Ohhhh, yeah. Hell’s travel agency was giddy and booking her trip this second. One way. No refund.
She needed to get out of here. Now.
Easier said than done. Because doing it meant looking toward Tait once more. His proud stance. His piercing gaze. His set jaw. His decadent lips…now silent and still. Thank the gods.
They had to keep it that way. Feelings had to stay silent now. Safe now. Not just for Kellan’s sake, but for her sake—and most importantly, for Tait’s sake. She had to keep telling herself that, because the intensity on his face, dizzying her with desire all over again, already made the resolve a bitch to keep.
She finally summoned fortitude to speak. “I—I don’t think I’ll be able to come back here again.”
“I understand.”
She shifted her weight, feeling even more ridiculous. “So…don’t starve, okay?”
Where was the damn door?
A girl had to be careful about letting her attention wander in the same room as a man who’d studied ninja tactics for job training. When she lifted her head again, he stood less than a foot in front of her. And when she opened her mouth to gasp, he invaded it with his own.
He gave her no choice about protesting the kiss—and she didn’t want one. With a whimper, she gave herself to every demanding sweep of his tongue, every crushing mash of his lips. Her ears rang. Her knees buckled. She gripped him for purchase, sighing at the feel of his rippled shoulders beneath her hands.
All too fast, the explosion was over. An anguished cry spilled from her. The same sentiment seemed to grip every breathtaking angle of his face as the sun turned his hair into a dark gold halo.
With silent strength, he stepped away. A bittersweet smile took over his entrancing lips. “I won’t starve. I promise.”
The words, soft and sad, were a relentless echo in her head during the drive home, through the early evening chores, and into dinner preparation. They finally diffused when Kellan came barging in, hot and sweaty from replacing a bunch of rusty pipes in the water pump. He was accompanied by Randy and Roger, the married couple from next door who’d been invaluable in helping her keep Hale Anelas running. As a reward for the guys’ hard work, she made a pizza with hand-rolled dough, topped with fresh mango and tomatoes from the garden, along with caramelized onions and barbecued pineapple. Baked chicken wings and a salad, tossed with more fresh fruit, completed the meal.
As the men relaxed with post-meal beers on the lanai, it was impossible to ignore fresh thoughts of Tait. He would’ve filled out the conversation so perfectly with his sarcasm and smirks.
She beat back her melancholy with a sharp mental stick. Gods! The stubborn shits had done this to themselves! Since when had it become any of her concern? Why the hell did she care about playing peacemaker for two grown, mule-headed men?
Since you realized that every inch of your body craves both of them. Every inch…
She had to get a handle on this nonsense.
A dunk in a bunch of cold water should do the trick.
After changing quickly into her swimsuit and grabbing her towel, she made her way back out to the lanai.
“Grrrr,” Roger teased in greeting. “Hel-lo, Honey Rider. You going my way, Bond girl?”
“You wish.” She giggled as she sidled onto the arm of the chair filled by Kellan. His gaze slid over her in open appreciation.
“I’m beginning to crave a martini and a tuxedo myself,” he drawled, “and I hate that dress-up-like-a-monkey shit.” He trailed an appreciative knuckle down her thigh. “What’s up, hot stuff?”
She gave him a smile and a warm kiss. “I need a swim. Feeling a little tense. Be back soon. Promise.”
The tide was low and the waves were calm, allowing her to concentrate on nothing but the flow of her body as she swam. She left the cares from the shore back on the shore, wishing for nothing but a brief escape from the conflict in her body and the increasing divide in her heart, made worse by the events of this afternoon. Made damn near impossible from the moment Tait had kissed her…
It’s done. Gone. In the past. Which is where it will stay.
The resolve powered her steps back onto shore. Even made it possible for her to issue a hard nod to herself in encouragement while she walked to the rock where she’d draped her towel.
But didn’t prepare her to turn around and be stunned by the man who appeared out of nowhere. Tait was clearly not the only one who’d taken stealth training.
“Gods,” she blurted. “Kellan, I think you scared my toe polish off.”
He dipped his head with a knowing glint in his eyes—another move eerily similar to what Tait would do. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Really? Sneaking up on your lover to the point she has to book a fresh pedicure tomorrow? That’s a good thing with you Spec Ops boys these days?”
“Can be.” He leveled his gaze with the same steady omniscience. “If we think it’ll get her to talk to us.”
She was glad to already have her towel in hand. Averting her gaze seemed natural instead of purposeful as she began drying herself off—and breathing down her quickened pulse. “Well, here I am, talking to you.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
She slid the towel along her arms. “What are you getting at? How many beers have you—”
“One.” He took the towel, twisted it to form a thick rope then whipped it over her head in order to trap her by the shoulders. “Come here.” Though his grip was ruthless, his tone was beseeching. “Look at me, Lani.”
Despite his plea, she spluttered with aggravation. “What the—”
“Look at me,” he countered. “You barely ate at dinner, which means something’s eating you. So out with it, woman. Talk. Now.”
Chapter Nine
Kellan was grateful that Randy and Roger had noticed Lani’s strange behavior as soon as he did. Right after she took off, they both confirmed their suspicions to him. They shared that even though the woman could be private at times, she seemed extra burdened by something tonight. Sharing his concern in duplicate, the couple insisted on leaving shortly after she disappeared for the beach, encouraging him to go after her. That was all it took to send him jogging down the bamboo planks.
Now that he’d locked her in his embrace, all their suspicions were su
bstantiated. In every inch of her twisted lips and tensioned neck, he saw the evidence of her anxiety—and wasn’t going to let her get away with it any longer. Not that the woman didn’t clearly have other plans.
“I picked at my dinner so you think something’s bothering me?” she snapped. “Pupule kela. This is crazy.”
“Nice try.” He let the coiled towel fall to her waist. Yanked on it to haul her against him. “Go ahead and fling all the ca-ca you want, starshine. It wasn’t just your nonexistent appetite that has us here—where we’re going to stay until you spill.” He gave a taunting sigh. “I could easily stand here for a few more hours. How about you? The air feels good, the stars are bright and incredible—”
He was stopped by the dual fist thumps she gave to his chest. He grunted but didn’t budge. Shit, the woman could pack a punch when she wanted. “Damn paˋakiki,” she spat.
He grinned. She was pretty adorable like this. “Why, thank you.”
“It means stubborn ass.”
“Then thank you very much.”
“Fine.” Just like that, her rebellion dissolved into obvious insecurity. She turned her head in a longing look toward the path back home, which Kell decided to allow. “There…was more to my afternoon than just the bank and the store.”
Though he’d expected the answer, a weight pressed his chest. “I’d figured as much.”
She gaped. “You had?”
“Of course.” Despite his tension, he lifted her chin in order to give her a soft kiss. “You’ve been strung more tight than a greenie about to blast your first cherry in airborne.”
She winced. “Good heavens.” Her horror made him laugh, until he felt the tension still gripping every inch of her body. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I really am. I guess I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, and I didn’t want you to be upset, so—”
“Lani.” He gripped her chin a little tighter. “Out with it already. If I’m pissed, it’s certainly not going to be with you.”
Her lips twisted. “Huh?”
“Just tell me. Where did Benson find you? At the bank? Or was he catching up on his gossip mag scoops at the grocery store? And what kind of crap did he try to pull?” Though he was certain his ire wouldn’t dim even if the asshole had given her a simple wave from his fancy-ass Escalade.