“The things I do for family.”
After glazing the ham and churning the roasting potatoes, she placed napkins on the three plates at the table in preparation for her guests. Her younger sister Rachel would arrive any moment from the airport, having flown in from Chicago with her boyfriend Jarrod. They planned to stay a week and Blythe couldn’t be happier. She hadn’t seen them in months. Being in Maui while the rest of the family was on the mainland was a lonely business, but her career had dictated that. It was a personal choice and one she was proud of, even cherished.
She strained the baby carrots and set the colander in the sink, stressing slightly at the sight of them. Overcooked and mushy – and bound to be ice cold if they didn’t arrive soon. Being the world’s worst cook took effort, the title far from self-proclaimed. Other family and friends had blatantly told her as much over the years, but tonight Blythe was determined to prove her sister wrong. She could pull this off, if only she could get the timing right. There was nothing she couldn’t tackle, even if it meant making something semi-edible. Okay, so maybe it was wishful thinking. There was always the take-out restaurant down the street on speed-dial.
Opening the oven door, Blythe peered inside as a billow of smoke wafted up and blocked her visibility. “Damn it!” she coughed and waved the smoke away from her face. The drippings from the ham were falling to the bottom and burning. She considered calling her mom, but that would be admitting defeat. Besides, she was a grown woman who’d seen her share of harrowing situations while reporting breaking news stories. Handling the ham should be a cakewalk.
“Foil, that’ll do the trick.”
As she reached for it, the phone rang in the living room and Blythe instantly forgot about the drippings. Thinking it was Rachel calling to say they’d be here soon, Blythe cringed when it turned out to be the guy she’d been avoiding. He obviously hadn’t gotten the hint after their second date and was calling to try his luck again. Trying to keep the conversation brief was impossible. He went on and on about his plans for the upcoming weekend and how nice it would be if she joined him. She’d told him twice already that she had company coming, but he was persistent. Blythe’s manners were persistent too, until she spotted smoke bouncing along the ceiling from the kitchen to the living room. The smoke alarm began an ear-piercing screech triggering Blythe’s panic.
“What in hell is that?” he asked.
“A fire. I have to go. The answer’s still no.” She slammed down the phone and rushed to the kitchen. Visibility was nil as smoke filled the room, rising in thick curls and snuffing out all the breathable air.
Coughing, she opened the kitchen window overlooking her flower garden and tried to direct the smoke out that way, frantically fanning an oven mitt in the window’s direction. It didn’t help. She flicked off the temperature and opened the oven door, but as she did flames shot up at her face. She jerked it shut again and sprang for the phone, her fingers fumbling as she dialed.
“What’s your emergency?”
“Aloha, my kitchen’s on fire!”
Moments felt like an eternity. The sound of approaching sirens soon calmed the rising heat of Blythe’s anxiety. Help was on the way. She stood on the front porch, unable to see or breath inside now. She envisioned her house emblazed with all the possessions that mean so much to her burning up like kindling. Although she’d only lived in the house alone for a year, her parents had purchased it twenty years ago as a family get-away investment. Her and her siblings had spent summer holidays here and many memorable Christmas breaks. When her parents suggested selling it, Blythe had jumped at the chance to apply for a job in Maui, buy her parents out, and begin a new chapter of her career in paradise.
The Fire Chief’s van pulled up first, followed closely by a large yellow fire truck. In her state of panic and confusion, Blythe hardly registered Chief Kalani running toward her until he was right in her face.
“Miss Davenport, we’ll take it from here.”
She stumbled aside and waited as firemen streamed into her house dressed in full gear. A second later, she heard the whoosh of a fire extinguisher and then a calm silence. Blythe swallowed dryly and wrung her hands, desperate for answers. Was her kitchen a write-off? Would she have to move? Was the damn ham really worth all this heartache?
The front screen door creaked open and out walked all the firemen, tipping their hats in her direction and smiling. A couple chuckled once they passed her. The last to leave the house was Chief Kalani, wearing a huge grin.
“Miss Davenport, everything’s under control. The fire was contained in your oven so we extinguished it. No harm done. It just needs a good cleaning.”
She studied his open, handsome face and detected an edge of playfulness. The catastrophe she envisioned hadn’t happened. In fact, she could have put the fire out herself by the sounds of it. “So, it was a fire in the oven only?”
“The ham is burnt. I assume it was a ham, right?”
“Yes.”
“You may want to get yourself an extinguisher and consider going out for dinner tonight.”
“I’ll do that,” Blythe looked down, completely mortified. “Thank you, Chief Kalani.”
“Please, call me Mak,” he said. This got her attention. She looked up and met his gaze, but fear gripped her. Judging by his behavior, he still hadn’t figured out who she was and she planned to keep it that way.
“You rushed off so fast the other day, I thought maybe I’d done something to offend you…besides sweeping you off your feet at the cane burn.”
Sweeping her off her feet? Was this guy for real? No wonder she’d found it easy to write the article all those years ago. The story of the guy who’d broken up with his girlfriend and was then cursed by the ex-girlfriend’s grandmother was now legendary. And Mak happened to be that guy. Sure, most people would consider the article a ridiculous piece of gossip, but not in Hawaii. Not on an island steeped in tradition and superstition. Curses are taken very, very seriously. When he introduced himself in the fire truck, she had visibly shrunk back. Could he tell? She prayed he wouldn’t figure out who she was by some sixth sense or a vibe she was giving off – a guilty, embarrassed vibe. But how could he possibly know? There hadn’t been an author photo with the article, just harsh, biting words. When she’d written it, she hadn’t really thought about the impact such an article would have on the person of interest. She was trying to impress her new boss, get a paycheck, and scramble her way into the business.
“You did nothing to offend me. I just had to get home,” Blythe said, hoping he’d drop it.
“Hmm. Okay. Whatever you say,” Chief Kalani smirked suspiciously.
He was definitely on to her, she was certain. She’d have to get him out of here, and quick. “Well, thanks again for your help. Sorry that I inconvenienced your men.”
“You’ll get an extinguisher then?”
“Um, no. I’ll just never cook again. Easy.”
The Chief laughed, “That’s a shame. I like my ham extra crispy.”
Was he coming on to her?
“Well, that’s nice. And thank you again. Sorry to hurry you away, but I have company coming and I have a kitchen to clean and take-out to order before they arrive. Goodbye, Chief Kalani.” She crossed her arms, her posture screaming defensive and guarded.
He tipped his hat toward her and by the look on his face, accepted her brush-off with grace and walked away.
Blythe watched him go and felt her stomach drop from the guilt. She hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, but she’d run out of things to say that didn’t involve self-admission. She didn’t trust herself not to blurt out an apology for her scathing article and the ripple effect it had caused. She only realized its impact once she’d moved to the island permanently and word about the Chief had reached her. It hadn’t taken long for local women to warn her about Makaio Kalani’s curse.
As Chief Kalani pulled away from the curb, a taxi pulled up in his place. A willowy blond hopped out, followed by a muscul
ar man in preppy attire who helped the driver with their luggage before paying him. The blond ran toward Blythe and hugged her tight, squealing excitedly in her ear. “Let me look at you,” Rachel held her back to get a better look. “You’re filthy! And why was there a fire truck here?”
Blythe wore a mischievous grin. “Okay, you caught me. I had a slight problem with dinner.”
“What kind of a problem?” Rachel’s long-time boyfriend Jarrod brought her into a bear hug. “Don’t tell me, you tried to cook.”
Blythe grinned wider, unable to suppress her amusement. “As a matter of fact, yes. You guys are worth the effort.”
“Hope your insurance is worth the effort,” Jerrod half joked as they went inside to assess the damage.
<><><>
Driving back to the station, Mak’s mind was lost in thought as it usually was when solo. What was it about that woman? For someone who seemed to treat him as if he were a mere inconvenience, he certainly spent time thinking about her. She couldn’t get him out of there fast enough.
Yep, Mak thought, she definitely knows that I’m the cursed Fire Chief. She must have read the damning article all those years ago like everyone else on the island. Either that or been informed by Big Lou, a neighbor, or any local stranger she happened to meet. The way she shot down and dismissed his deliberate flirtations confirmed it. She was repulsed by him, and the only reason he could think of was the curse. Another opportunity with a beautiful, intelligent woman bites the dust.
Chapter Four
“Wow, this view is phenomenal,” Jarrod commented as they stood at the rail of the observation deck. Being at the top of the Haleakala volcano was equivalent to sitting on a cloud. The panoramic of the ocean and surrounding islands took ones breath away.
“What’s that?” Jarrod asked, pointing toward a small distant island. Although he’d been to Maui several times now with Rachel and the rest of the family, they’d never had the pleasure of touring the volcano before.
“That’s the island of Kahoolawe. It’s deserted, but I don’t know much about it. Only what my Dad used to mumble. Something about that island having significance during World War II.”
“Ah yes, the ramblings of David Davenport. Never a dull moment,” laughed Jarrod.
“You’d better watch what you say about your future father-in-law…if you ever decide to make a decent women out of my sister that is.” Blythe pushed Jarrod away, noticing his cheeks grow red. She knew he’d been waiting for the right moment to pop the question. He’d revealed his plan for a Christmas proposal a few weeks ago and the entire family was in on it. Everyone but Rachel, that is.
“This view never gets old. And didn’t you love the smell of eucalyptus on the way up? Wasn’t it refreshing?” Rachel was lost in the splendor of her surroundings and Jarrod quickly buried his attention in a brochure, avoiding the subject of marriage proposals at all cost.
Blythe gawked around too, taking in the experience. It had been years since she was up here. She felt relaxed and content having her sister here, having missed her something fierce these past few months apart. Her feeling of contentment quickly changed to one of acute anxiety when she spotted a now familiar face amongst the other tourists. She was positive it was his profile through the window of the gift shop. Chief Kalani.
Straining, Blythe crept closer to get a better look, all the while conscious of staying incognito. The last thing she wanted was a one-on-one with the Chief after her embarrassing fire fiasco the other day. Inching closer, Blythe’s curiosity spiked when she saw two tiny boys accompanying him, especially since the boys resembled him and were clearly comfortable in his presence. They swung from his outstretched arms like he was a giant piece of playground equipment.
“I’m just going to check out the gift shop,” Blythe announced before slipping away.
“Uh-huh, okay,” Jarrod and Rachel echoed without looking away from their respective focus.
Entering the gift shop, Blythe pretended to inspect some lacquered photos of the volcano. From a safe distance, she noticed how casual The Chief was with the young boys, one about five and the other around seven. He was attentive, crouching down to their level and making eye contact, touching the tops of their heads as they browsed, or placing a strong hand on their shoulders to guide them around. He was clearly over the moon in their company, enjoying every minute.
“Anakala Mak, can we get some ice cream?” She overheard one of the boys ask. Anakala…Blythe racked her memory for the word’s definition. She was pretty sure it meant Uncle in English. At the revelation, Blythe found herself breathing a sigh of relief. No wife, no kids. She shook her head, realizing the thought was useless considering whom she was thinking about. Makaio Kalani – the cursed Fire Chief. Sure, he was easy on the eyes. One might even chance calling him drop-dead gorgeous. Still, this guy was off limits.
“Miss Davenport?”
Snapping back to attention, Blythe looked up right into Chief Kalani’s open face. He looked puzzled, like he wasn’t sure why she was here.
“Oh, hello. How are you?” she asked, realizing how awkward she must sound. She dropped her gaze back to the volcano postcards, making it look like she was searching for a particular one.
“Fine. What are you doing here? Are you alone?” he asked as the two boys came around him and gawked up at her.
“Who’s she?” the smallest one asked. Blythe noticed Chief Kalani laugh uneasily and put an arm around the boy.
“Kai, this is a reporter. I helped put out a fire in her kitchen the other day.”
Blythe smiled then bit her bottom lip. She laughed nervously. “Yes, about that. I’m totally mortified, but thank you again. I guess I could have saved my own bacon, literally.”
Chief Kalani pointed at her and chuckled. “Good one.”
“Hmm,” Blythe smiled again, not knowing what else to say. She hadn’t planned on talking to him in the first place. Hadn’t planned on being this close and having to witness his bulging biceps or bedroom brown eyes roving hers. Even the smell of his cologne was an unexpected draw. When he smiled, she noticed how the tanned skin around his eyes crinkled in a relaxed way, like he did a lot of laughing. It was hypnotic.
“So, are you just taking in the sights?”
“Um, yes. My sister and her boyfriend are here for the week, so…”
“You’re playing tour guide, got it,” he winked and Blythe felt a little rush of excitement. “So that’s who you were cooking for when the fire broke out.”
“Yes, they’re here from the mainland. Needless to say, they weren’t surprised to hear that I burnt dinner. I have a tendency of doing that.”
“Did you get yourself an extinguisher yet?” Chief Kalani raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Blythe’s stomach twisted with unease. “Um, no. Not yet. But I will. I promise.”
“Don’t do it for me. Do it for you.”
“Sure,” she said, thinking the line was a little self-righteous. But then again, it was probably impossible for him to turn off the Fire Chief mentality.
As if sensing her thoughts, he seemed to lighten up a bit and his shoulders relaxed. “These are my nephews, Kai and Cade. I’m giving my sister a breather and spending quality time with them. Guy bonding, right?” He wrapped his arm around the older of the two and brought him closer.
“Yep,” the boys said in unison before reaching out and lightly poking each other in the ribs. They broke free from his grip and raced toward a toy display, their attention instantly diverted.
“Kids,” Chief Kalani shook his head, his smile wide. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground before turning those brown eyes her way. For a guy living under the umbrella of a potent curse, he didn’t seem too phased. Life seemed pretty sweet and easygoing.
“Well, I’d better get back,” Blythe thumbed over her shoulder. She felt that urge to escape again.
“Yeah, okay. Nice to see you.” Chief Kalani stood glued to the spot as if waiting for somet
hing. Blythe got the impression he wanted to keep talking, but she knew that couldn’t happen. It was too risky.
“Bye.” Turning on her heels, she practically raced to Rachel and Jarrod, feeling Chief Kalani’s eyes burn into her back.
Over the course of the next hour, Blythe discretely watched as The Chief attentively spent time with his nephews, pulling them close and reading the information boards. She admired how he sounded words out slowly, attentively. They asked question after question and his patience abounded as he answered with care. With each tender response he gave, she pressed a palm firmly to her stomach, easing down the intense feelings of butterflies.
The Makaio Kalani she’d written about all those years ago had been a titillating fact sheet she’d dug up solely for the purpose of filling article space in the Chicago tabloid she worked for. And now, standing six-foot-three, dark skinned, dark haired, and full of taut muscles, Blythe couldn’t for the life of her understand how something as silly as a curse could keep women away; not from someone so magnificent. In the charged circumstances at the cane burn, she hadn’t given him the inspection he’d deserved. And at her kitchen fire, his fireman’s gear, although sexy, hid his physique. Now, taking in the sight of him, she was sorry she’d ever written a negative world about him.
But Chief Kalani would remain at arms length – Blythe would make sure of that. She couldn’t risk him ever discovering who she was or what she’d done.
<><><>
Mak watched as Blythe Davenport moved with the ease of a modern woman. The altitude made the air chilly and he admired how her outfit hugged her in all the right places. She wore dark, tight denim on her long legs and stylish boots. No hiking boots or Tiva sandals for this girl. A slouchy grey sweatshirt hung from one shoulder revealing a black bra-strap. Not a typical college sweatshirt, but some deconstructed thing that screamed mainland high fashion. She was stylish and sophisticated, unlike most of the casual women he knew around Maui. This made her seem even more unattainable.
Chief Distraction Page 2