by Anna Lowe
There was a clipped-out newspaper article, too, showing the charred remains of a helicopter. Someone had picked out two lines with a red pen — Fiery Crash on Molokini. Pilot unable to regain control — and next to it, had scribbled, Great flying, Kai.
Some kind of friendly gibe between friends, she guessed. She peeked back at Cruz. Something told her he would make a great friend — and a bitter enemy.
“If you want a smoothie, help yourself,” Cruz murmured, nodding at the blender and a bowl of fruit.
It was uncanny, how the man seemed to know all her favorite breakfast foods.
Destiny, a faint voice whispered in her mind.
She shook her head and told herself not to read into the sound of palm fronds rustling in the wind. Cruz set a pot on the stovetop while she went about making a smoothie from grapefruit, blood oranges, and the strawberries Cruz pointed out in the fridge.
“What are the police saying about last night?” she asked, cutting the fruit into the blender. And, wow. It was all too easy to feel at home, as if she and Cruz made breakfast side by side every morning.
“They’re keeping it hush-hush, at least for now. They have made an arrest, though.”
She brightened. “Great! So I’m fine, right?”
Cruz jerked his head sideways in a curt no as he adjusted the flame. “I doubt it. They arrested one of the resort employees.”
“And?”
His face soured. “It’s one of the valets, Toby. The guy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
She added juice and hit the on button, filling the space with the whirring sound of the blender. When the motor evened out again, she turned it off, opened the lid, and licked a splash of the concoction off her finger.
“I feel like a vampire,” she joked, licking the bright red juice from her lips. “You want some?”
Cruz stared at her before jerking his gaze back to the pot.
What? she wanted to ask. What did I say?
But Cruz wasn’t a man to be pushed, so she drank quickly and went back to the subject of the police investigation. “Why would they arrest the valet if he’s innocent?”
Cruz shrugged. “Either they’re idiots, or Toby is being framed.”
“Framed?” she choked. “Who would do that?”
Cruz leveled a flat gate at her. “How about the same people who wanted you dead? The same people who made sure I was given false information. Who knows how far they’re willing to go?”
That made her lose her appetite, although a sniff of the oatmeal made her hungry all over again. She remained silent, sipping the smoothie while Cruz finished the oatmeal and surprised her — again — by spooning it all into a plastic bowl.
“Can you eat on the go? We need to check your condo before anyone else does.”
“Sure,” she said, worried all over again.
The man was truly a mystery — gruff one second, considerate the next. She hurried to follow him to the garage, tasting a spoonful of oatmeal on the way. It was warm, sweet, and solid. Just the thing to get her started on what was sure to be a difficult day.
Cruz led her to the leftmost bay of the long, arched garage and motioned for her to get in the car — a red Ferrari convertible this time. The Lamborghini occupied the next spot in the garage, and a vintage Jaguar filled the next bay. How many cars did the man own? Or did they belong to Silas — or whoever the property owner was?
“I do this too,” she joked.
Cruz shot her a quizzical look.
“Drive a different car every day. But Tuesdays are my Rolls-Royce days. I save my pink Ferrari for Fridays.”
In truth, she’d barely paid off half of a decade-old Chevy, but it was nice to pretend.
Cruz looked at her for a second. “Wednesdays are Rolls-Royce days.”
She stared then cracked up. “You’re kidding.”
He broke into a tiny grin. “Yeah. But seriously — we need a different car in case anyone spotted the Lamborghini last night.”
“Oh.” Maybe he really was a detective or a PI or something.
She stepped to the passenger side, trying to play it cool. When she sat, she mashed her knees together. If she dropped a bit of oatmeal, it was going to land on her, not the leather seat.
“Why would the police keep things quiet?” she asked when Cruz slid into the low-slung vehicle with a practiced motion.
He handed her something — the purse she’d dropped in the other car the previous night, and she couldn’t help but blush for some reason.
“I don’t think it’s them so much as the Kapa’akea club,” he said. “They seem to be doing their best to keep everything hushed up.”
“They hushed up attempted murder? Wouldn’t the guests post pictures to social media and tell all their friends?”
Cruz fired up the engine and backed out of the garage with a squeal of tires. Jody hung on to her oatmeal while he accelerated up the driveway toward the gate.
“Those club members aren’t the type to spread the news around, believe me. With a pro golf event scheduled to take place there next month, they’re probably worried about scaring people away.” He shook his head in disgust. “They love locking people out of their club, but they love showing it off at the same time.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
The estate gate slammed shut behind them, and a second later, Cruz was racing down the road.
“Oh!” she yelped between spoonfuls of oatmeal. “My dad. I should call him in case he’s worried.”
“I doubt he heard anything, but you can call.”
She yanked her phone out as Cruz shifted through one gear after another, speeding down the main road. Ignoring the list of missed calls, she dialed and waited, squinting into the bright sunlight reflecting off the ocean.
“Wild Side Surf Shop. Hello?”
Jody couldn’t hold back a grin. “Hi, Dad. Just checking in.”
She waited for him to break out in worried father tones, but apparently, Cruz was right. The shooting really had been hushed up.
“Hey, sweetie. How are you? You surviving that modeling gig?”
Jody took a deep breath. She’d only told her father about the modeling contract because she couldn’t bear to keep secrets from him, and he’d done a fairly good job hiding his disappointment. He’d always lectured her against selling out to the highest bidder, and she’d always agreed. But when she pictured the look on his face on the day she’d get to share her paycheck with him, her mood brightened again.
“Almost done now.”
“Have you gotten a chance to surf?”
Not nearly enough. Jody turned her face seaward, sniffing the ocean. She could practically feel the swell building. “I hope to get out today.”
“Well, get us some good pictures while you’re at it. The shop needs some exciting new shots in the front windows.”
Wild Side Surf Shop, she knew, needed a lot more than some exciting new photos to keep the business alive. Customers were loyal and business was brisk, but its prime location on a what had become a trendy section of beach made the shop vulnerable to take-over by bigger businesses.
“I promise,” she said, making several extra silent promises on the side. With the money she earned…
“Decent shots,” her dad joked. “None of those shots that are all — what do they call them these days? — assets. No assets, you hear me? I want shots that show off how my baby can surf.”
Jody laughed. “I’ll make sure to keep my assets covered.”
Cruz glanced over with one eyebrow arched high. She pointed forward and muttered, “Watch the road.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with the dawn of a grin.
“Someone there?” her dad asked.
Jody winced. How the hell was she going to explain? Actually, I’m in a Ferrari with a perfect stranger. In fact, I slept at his tree house last night. Not that he laid a hand on me. He just made me fantasize about sex all night. He cooked me oatmeal for breakfast, too, a
nd it’s as good as what Mom used to make…
She pursed her lips and changed the subject. “A friend. How’s Eileen?”
Her dad’s tone became somber. “Your sister’s doing okay, considering.”
Considering her latest fertility treatment failed, Jody added. Another couple of thousand dollars she couldn’t afford in the first place down the drain.
“But you know her. She’s a Monroe, and she never gives up. They’re looking at other options.”
Options Eileen and her husband couldn’t afford. Jody nodded and flexed her fingers. Well, she was a Monroe, too, and she wouldn’t give up either. But she wasn’t about to go into the details, not with Cruz able to hear every word.
“Hey, I’d better go. I just wanted to say hi,” she said as Cruz raced around another bend of the highway. “Talk to you soon?”
“Talk to you soon, sweetie. Have a great day. Oh, and don’t forget to look up Teddy.”
Oops — she had forgotten. The second she had some free time — and was sure no one was trying to kill her — she would look up the living legend of surfboard shaping as she’d promised.
“Will do. Love you. Bye.”
A pang hit her as soon as she ended the call. God, it would be so easy to hop on a plane, fly home, and do what she loved best — helping her dad in the shop and surfing in her free time. No photo shoots, no madmen trying to kill her, no competitions. She loved surfing, but after three years on the pro tour, she’d just about had her fill of the hectic schedule and long flights. Maybe it was time to settle down and live a quieter life designing surfboards of her own.
Of course, Seal Beach wasn’t the place it used to be, and part of her yearned for a quieter place. A slower pace.
She tilted her head back to face the sun. Someplace like Maui would be nice. Maybe even with a man at her side. Maybe she could get a job with Teddy Akoa, design boards, and see more of Cruz. California was okay, but Maui seemed like paradise.
She stopped the runaway thoughts there. No one had ever shot at her in California, so there was that.
“Do you know Teddy Akoa?” she asked, taking another bite of oatmeal.
“You mean Akoa’s Surf Factory?” Cruz nodded. “Funny old coot, him.”
She smiled, because her father had used almost the same words. The factory part had to be an overstatement — Teddy Akoa only produced a board or two a month — but his work was known to insiders around the world.
“I’ve been to Maui four times, but I’ve never been able to track him down. Does he really shape custom boards in a shack by the beach?”
Cruz shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me. He keeps to himself. The place is farther down the coast.”
Jody wished Cruz could make a U-turn and take her there to meet the great man himself. She heaved a quiet sigh and looked forward, resigning herself to her reality. She didn’t have time for frivolous side trips, not as long as she had a target painted on her back.
“When should we go to the resort?” she asked.
Cruz shook his head. “I already did.”
“You what?” Jody glanced at the clock on the dashboard. When had he found the time?
Cruz went on without batting an eye. “They’re not talking. And the waiter who handed you the drink — the signal that singled you out as a target — says he got the message from another guy. And that other guy said he was given the order by another person, who doesn’t remember who ordered the drink for you in the first place.”
Jody stared at him. “What time did you get up this morning?”
Judging by the dark lines under his eyes, the question really ought to have been how late he’d been out the previous night. Cruz didn’t say a word, though.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Thanks. For everything.” Obviously, the man wasn’t used to looking out for anyone but himself. But he was trying — genuinely trying — to help her. He’d saved her from a gunman, offered her his place for the night, fixed her breakfast…
Without thinking, she touched his arm. Within the space of two heartbeats, the creases on his brow eased away. He stopped gnashing his teeth, and as for Jody — well, whew. She felt it, too. A warm sense of connection and comfort she couldn’t explain. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, the way she did to welcome the peace of a quiet morning on an out-of-the-way beach.
Wow. Cruz really did have an effect on her. And she did on him, too.
Your mom and I… We just knew, she remembered her dad saying with misty eyes.
Jody took a deep breath. Her dad believed in soul mates, and her great-aunt Tilda went a step further and chattered on about destiny. Then again, Tilda believed in lots of things, including vampires, ghosts, and mermaids, which just went to prove how crazy she was.
So Jody hadn’t really believed the destiny part, but damn. She sure was tempted to now.
A horn beeped, and she opened her eyes in time to catch Cruz jerking the car back into its lane. Had he also drifted out of focus for a moment or two?
Or three…or four… Because when he glanced over and their eyes met, the world slowed down all over again.
Beep! Beep!
Cruz swept his focus back to the road and glared through the next few miles of winding coastal road until the condos of Honokowai came into view.
“This one?” he pointed to the fourth building, speaking in gruff, choppy syllables.
Jody nodded and got out of the car. She ran her hands over her arms and looked around before stepping to the entrance with Cruz. The words he’d uttered the previous night raced through her mind. What happens when the gunman tracks you down?
Cruz craned his neck, scrutinizing balconies and windows with narrowed, professional eyes.
He’s a sniper. A hit man, a little voice screamed in the back of her mind.
He saved you. You can trust him, a second voice chipped in.
“Damn it.” She punched in the key code for a second time and hurried into the cool, carpeted lobby. She strode toward the elevator and hit the button several times, tapping her foot the whole time.
“Just grab what you need, and we’ll head back to Koa Point,” Cruz murmured as the elevator doors slid open.
When she reached her unit on the sixth floor, Cruz motioned for her to step aside. He kept his body up against the wall by the door, and the moment she tapped the code into the keypad, he shoved the door open with a sharp kick.
“Whoa. Are you a cop or something?”
“Special Forces,” he grunted, peering in carefully.
Special Forces? That explained the eagle eyes and coiled muscles, but not the Ferrari, the Lamborghini, or what he was doing on Maui.
“Bad news,” he said, making her freeze. “The place has been ransacked.”
Her blood ran cold as she looked over his shoulder. “Where?”
“Look at the place. It’s a mess.”
She pursed her lips and nudged him aside. “It’s not that bad.”
He stared as she walked in and picked a pair of shorts and a towel off the floor. She’d been in a hurry to leave for the party. So what?
“You mean, this is normal?” He sounded horrified.
She glared at him, and he glared back. Normally, she could hold her own with any guy. But wow, this man was about as easy to stare down as a cat. A very big, potentially lethal cat.
A full minute later, she broke the impasse by making a face. “You sound like my father.”
He didn’t laugh as her dad would, though. He just stalked around the tiny unit, thrusting open doors and checking closets while she gathered up her clothes. She was just pulling her wet suit off a chair on the balcony when the front door rattled, and they both froze.
Cruz looked at her with a look that asked, Were you expecting someone?
She backed away from the front door. No, she wasn’t.
Cruz stalked forward, looking dangerous as ever.
“Mr. Special Forces,” she whispered. “Don’t kill housekeeping, okay?”
&nbs
p; He scowled but didn’t relax the slightest bit. And neither did Jody when the door handle rattled a second time.
Housekeeping, she realized, would knock and announce themselves. Whoever it was out there was sneaking in.
Cruz motioned for her to take cover while he prepared to throw open the door. Jody hurried to one wall, clutching her duffel bag. God, she’d already been shot at and voluntarily abducted. Now what?
Chapter Eight
Cruz steeled every muscle and prepared to pounce. Blood coursed through his veins — blood and rage — and his heart drummed. Who was trying to break in to Jody’s place?
It was exhilarating — as exhilarating as anything since his Special Forces days. Which was strange because he wasn’t fighting for his country right now. He was just protecting a woman he barely knew.
Just? his inner tiger growled. What do you mean, just?
That feeling of rage was unusual, too. He usually operated in a calm, professional way. The last time he’d gotten anywhere near as worked up was—
He gulped. That was back when his family had been killed.
Out of nowhere, a memory flashed through his mind — Jody licking the blood-red smoothie off her lips. God, I feel like a vampire.
She’d been joking, but it had brought back all kinds of doubts. Like the fact that the villagers near the scene of the crime had blamed vampires and shifters for the heinous crime. Of course, they would have said anything to absolve themselves, but…
Cruz flexed his fingers while watching the door handle jiggle. If he didn’t watch out, his nails would turn into claws. Jody was definitely getting under his skin. The instinct to protect her was as strong as the instinct to avenge his family.
She’s getting under our skin in a good way, his tiger murmured.
Every move she made, every word she uttered sent tingles through his weary bones and shooed back the darkness framing his soul. Just the way she tossed her hair and looked at the sky made him want to look up and check for shapes in the clouds.
Look, it’s a rocket, he remembered his dad saying one quiet summer day a long time ago when they’d stretched out side by side.
I see an elephant, he’d replied.