by Sarah Smith
I lean back to look at him. “Maybe they’re staring because we’re the odd ones out.”
He squints.
“You promised we’d go skinny-dipping together some day, remember? Today could be the day.”
He leans his head back in a groan.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re shy all of a sudden. You swim in your birthday suit regularly, Mr. James.”
He raises an eyebrow. “So I’m Mr. James now?”
“Anything to get you naked as soon as possible.”
He lets loose that melodic laugh, and I almost can’t breathe. That sound. Good Lord, I missed it.
He tugs at the waistband of his maroon swim trunks. I catch his wrist, chuckling. “Wait, I was kidding. You don’t actually have to get naked in front of all these people.”
He doesn’t even flinch at the prospect of being in his birthday suit on the beach in front of a hundred strangers. “I honestly don’t care if there are zero or a million people around. I do this all the time. It doesn’t bother me.” He loosens the drawstring of his shorts.
A second later the fabric drops to the sand, and I indulge in a seconds-long ogle. Just as glorious as the first time I saw him dripping wet and completely nude on this exact beach months ago.
I can’t help the wide smile that splits my face. I look up at him. His unflappable expression and tone have me hooked. Normally, I’d balk at the idea of being naked in front of strangers. But with Callum next to me, I’m at ease. Clothed or naked, I’m comfortable, as long as I’m with him.
I reach for the tie of my bikini top, but he stops me with a hand on my wrist. “You don’t have to just because I’m doing it.”
“I want to. Really. And look.”
I point to the people around us, none of whom are paying attention to us anymore. Half of the people running into and out of the waves are naked. Half of the people lying on the beach are naked too.
“No one’s even looking at us. Nudity isn’t a novelty on this beach,” I say. “But even if they do look, I don’t care. No more hiding. I’m with you now, and I want everyone to see.”
A wide smile stretches across Callum’s face.
I toss my bikini top onto his rumpled shorts, then hook my thumbs through the waist of my bottoms, but then stop. “But I do have one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You agree to cook with me at Travaasa Hana.”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely. I got that opportunity because of you. And I want to share it with you.”
He grins, his hands falling to his hips. I can’t help but run my gaze along the most flawlessly cut Adonis belt I’ve ever seen.
“Ah, so this is a pity request,” he teases.
I grab the meaty part of his forearm. “Hardly. You forget I’ve cooked with you. I know how amazing you are in the kitchen. I loved working with you for that one service we had together. I don’t want it to be our last.”
He beams and says he accepts.
My hand falls from his body to the string of my bikini bottom. I tug it loose, and the fabric on one side falls away. “Besides, now that we’re not working close to each other anymore, I want every opportunity to see you. Cooking together at Travaasa meets that requirement.”
Callum takes the other string in his hand and pulls, freeing my lower half of all fabric. “So what will we whip up, Chef Nikki? Some British-Filipino fusion dish that will blow everyone away?”
“Maybe.” Sliding my arms around his neck, I wag my eyebrows at him.
We stand completely naked, but I’ve never felt warmer. It’s the heat of Callum’s body, the reassurance of his words, the look in his eyes.
With his hands cupping my face, he leans in for another kiss. It’s softer this time, but still teasing, still tantalizing, still full of feeling.
“What do you have in mind?” he says, his whisper skimming across my lips.
“Hmm. Let’s see. We could do a mash-up of blood sausage and dinuguan, this really yummy dish made with pork blood.”
Callum hugs me tight against him. “Sounds interesting.”
“Or we could have a fry fest. Throw in a few lumpia or turon with a basket of fish-and-chips. Voilà. Fusion food like you’ve never tasted before.”
Chuckling, he takes me by the hand and leads me to the water. He twists his head at me. “I don’t care what we cook. I’ll do anything as long as it’s with you.”
“Really? Even let me name all of Lemon’s kittens ridiculously cute names?”
He mock frowns. “How ridiculously cute?”
“Like, so cute it hurts. I want to name the gray one Lulu, the white one Chowder, and the gray-and-white one Sushi.”
His head falls back as he laughs. “Almost all food names. Brilliant.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “Yes to all of them.”
Inside my chest swells. I wait until we’re in waist-deep water, then press my body against his. His hands fall to my waist, and I wrap my legs around his lower half, letting the salt water current make me practically weightless.
A wave hits us, and we tumble under. But Callum’s got me, his hold tight, secure. The biggest wave could hit us and I wouldn’t budge. I’m in his arms, the safest place I could ever be. As I grip onto him, he pushes us above the surface and we take identical gasps of air. We open our eyes, sputtering and laughing at once.
I cough on a gulp of salt water that managed to seep into my mouth. With the back of my hand, I wipe my mouth, then kiss Callum once more.
“You taste salty,” I say.
He laughs. “You do too.”
“I love salt.”
He squints down at me, the eager look in his eyes as bright as the sun against the horizon. “Do you?”
I nod. “I didn’t used to.”
In my head and in my heart, everything is different, and I’m overcome at the joy of it all. I press my shaky hands against Callum’s warm, wet skin. I still. Instant calm. Instant home.
I lick my lips. Salt in the air, in the water, on me, on Callum. It dances on our tongues. As I breathe in, the delicious burn sets in. Still I want more.
Leaning up, I lick his lips.
“Funny how things change,” he says.
He captures me in a kiss. Still so much salt. Still so good.
“It really is.”
Epilogue
One Year Later
What did I tell you about the walk-in?” Callum hovers over me, his toned chest lifting slightly with the gentle breath he takes.
“I don’t remember.” I take a step forward until we’re chest to chest and squint up at him.
For a second all he does is frown, but then the corner of his mouth lifts up in the naughtiest smirk. “Liar.”
I shrug, biting my lip to keep from cracking. We’ve played this game before so many times—in person, on the phone, over text. He always, always knows when I’m full of it. And I love it.
It’s hell trying to keep a straight face when he calls me out. This little game we play is my favorite thing about the crazy early mornings we pull nowadays. I absolutely loathe the 6 a.m. daily wake-up time of this past month, but I love this part.
Even though we’re standing in this restaurant walk-in refrigerator and the temperature is just a few degrees above freezing, the heat radiating from Callum’s body warms mine. He wags his eyebrow, slides his arms around my waist, and I break. My face splits into the most obnoxious grin before I press a kiss to his mouth. He trails his luscious lips down the side of my neck.
“Okay, okay.” The words fall from me in a breathy whimper. “Of course I remember you saying how important it is to label all of the produce in the walk-in. I just forgot.”
Closing my eyes, I dig my hands into his thickly muscled shoulders. It’s the only way I can keep myself steady against his mouth.
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He runs his hands up my back, and underneath my tank top, leaving me with a gentle bite on the collarbone before leaning back to look at me.
“It’s all right, petal. We all make mistakes.”
I smack his shoulder in response to his playful admonition. And then he pulls me in for a kiss that’s even filthier and sloppier than before.
Seconds later, the door flies open.
“Fucking hell,” Finn groans.
Callum and I pull apart and turn to him, dual flustered grins on our faces.
Finn flashes an exasperated frown at us and rests his hands on his hips. His stance reminds me of a disappointed chaperone. It’s like we’re horny teenagers who got busted at the school dance by the principal.
“In the walk-in? Really? Do you know how unsanitary that is?”
Callum shakes his head. “Give us a bit more credit than that, Finn. All we did was kiss. We didn’t touch a thing.”
Finn holds his hand up. “I don’t want to hear another word.”
He grabs a tray of chopped veggies from the walk-in. Callum grabs a tray of sliced fish chunks and follows him out to the main prep area of the restaurant kitchen. I follow with containers of homemade tartar sauce and malt vinegar in hand.
“That’s the trade-off, Finn,” Callum says as he follows his brother out the back entrance of the restaurant to the Hungry Chaps food truck parked outside.
Finn climbs into the back of the truck, sets the tray of veggies on a shelf, and turns to grab the tray of fish from Callum and the sauces from me.
“You get to store and prep your food in our kitchen for free in exchange for seeing us snog every once in a while,” Callum says.
Finn lets out a disgusted moan, exaggerated in volume for dramatic effect.
“Sorry, Finn,” I say, fighting back a chuckle. “We’ll try not to make out in the walk-in from now on.”
He rolls his eyes in that boyish, good-natured way I’ve come to love so much. Finn is big on giving Callum and me a hard time for how lovey-dovey we are as a couple.
“I’ll get used to it. Eventually.” He jumps down from the back of the truck and shuts the door. “You two are so cute and happy all the time. It’s bloody disgusting.”
I beam. Cute and happy are an understatement. I twist my head to catch a look at the brick exterior that makes up the back of the restaurant—our restaurant. Six months ago, Callum and I took the plunge: we opened a British-Filipino fusion restaurant in Kihei featuring mash-ups of our customers’ favorite dishes from each of our food trucks. He manages the finances, Mom does most of the cooking, and I run the front of the house and help with cooking whenever it’s slammed. We settled on calling it Lulu’s, after one of Lemon’s kittens. It’s been a hit with customers and tourists who heard about our unconventional love story online before vacationing on the island.
I look back at Finn. “I appreciate that. Almost as much as I appreciate how well you’ve been managing the food trucks.”
You’d never guess Finn ever had any trouble running a food truck by the way he operates now. He still runs Hungry Chaps at the spot by the airport with an old restaurant coworker of his, but he’s taken on managing Tiva’s Filipina Kusina too. His girlfriend, Grace, cooks the food while Kyle Tokushige takes the orders. When it’s busy, Penelope alternates helping at both trucks.
As an added bonus, Finn and Callum’s parents have finally come around to supporting their sons’ choice of career. They visited Maui this winter and saw firsthand how well business is doing and how content their boys are. I’d never seen Finn so happy as when his mom and dad told them how proud they were of them.
Finn flashes a bashful smile before running a hand through his shaggy blond locks. “Well, I just appreciate that your mum was willing to trust Grace to take over cooking duties at Tiva’s when she started working at the restaurant.”
I shake my head, remembering the panicked look on Mom’s face when I suggested she join us at the restaurant and let Grace take her place at the truck. But then I assured her that Grace had spent her whole life cooking with her Filipino lola and would do the recipes justice.
“Once she tasted Grace’s pansit, she was sold,” I say. “And it helps that she still cooks at the truck once a week.”
That once-a-week shift at the food truck was a nonnegotiable for Mom.
“My name is on the truck, anak,” she said when we hammered out a schedule for Lulu’s. “I have to cook there at least once a week. Otherwise it won’t technically be Tiva’s anymore.”
I couldn’t argue with her on that.
Finn rounds the corner to the driver’s side door of his truck. “Your mum is a force of nature. The rest of us are just trying to keep up.”
Callum and I share a laugh at how true that statement is. We wave good-bye as Finn pulls out of the parking lot, then head back to the kitchen to prep for the day’s lunch and dinner service.
When we walk into the kitchen, Mom is standing at the center table, hacking away at heads of cabbage with a cleaver. She beams up at us. “Good morning, you two!”
I stop to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Callum does the same.
“You’re here early, Tiva,” he says.
She waves her hand. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited about this new recipe I want to try today.”
She chats about frying up pork chops and sunny-side up eggs over white rice with brown gravy.
“Sounds bloody delicious. That would make a great menu special for today,” Callum says as he stands at the far end of the metal table to crack endless eggs into a giant metal bowl. When he’s done, I’ll scramble them in a huge wok along with some bacon, peas, carrots, and white rice to make our signature fried rice.
I pat Mom on the back after bringing out more produce to chop from the walk-in. “How are things at Mrs. Tokushige’s house?”
“Oh, you know how moving goes. Empty boxes everywhere. I hope Nora and Nigel won’t mind the mess when they come visit in a few weeks.”
Three months ago, our families did a home shuffle for the record books. Callum moved out of his condo to live with me, and Grace moved in with Finn. Mom moved into the guest bedroom of Mrs. Tokushige’s giant beach house in Wailea. Not only did we blend our work lives, but our home lives are intertwined now too.
Mom moving out was a hard sell for me at first, given my control freak tendencies when it comes to her. But she was so excited when Mrs. Tokushige suggested it to her. They’re both widows and spend most of their free time together anyway. Mom said it would be like her younger years, when she roomed with her best girlfriends. But instead of spending their days clubbing and drinking and sleeping in, Mom and Mrs. Tokushige are models of the active senior lifestyle. They wake up early every morning for a three-mile power walk on the beach before Mom heads to work. When she comes home, they play cards or mahjong, go to book club, have movie nights, and cook together.
I couldn’t help but support the idea when I saw how happy it made her. And seeing her almost every day at the restaurant helps. We’re still connected and close as ever, even though we don’t live together anymore.
“And how does Sushi like living at Mrs. Tokushige’s?” Callum asks.
“Oh, he loves it.” Mom laughs as she tells us that he spends his days napping in the sun, then extensively bathing himself in the evening before gorging on food and falling asleep.
“That sounds exactly like how Chowder spends his days at Grace and Finn’s,” Callum says.
Mom’s pointed gaze passes between Callum and me. “How about you two? Enjoying the condo . . . all by yourselves?”
I fight off a cringe. Now I know how it must feel when Finn catches Callum and me making out, because I can barely handle her subtle hint for a grandbaby.
Callum’s face burns red as he studies the eggs he’s cracking.
I hold u
p my left hand at her. The shiny diamond on my ring finger glistens under the kitchen lights. “One step at a time, Mom. We’ve only been engaged for a month. We haven’t even planned the wedding yet.”
Mom shrugs, her gaze fixed on the cutting board while she speaks to me. “An adorable baby would be the best wedding gift to yourselves, don’t you think?”
Callum booms out a laugh while I roll my eyes. As annoying as Mom’s good-natured prodding for a baby is, it doesn’t come close to bursting my bliss bubble. I recall that perfect night when Callum proposed to me. He took me to dinner at Mama’s Fish House in Paia, then asked if I’d be up for a stroll along Baldwin Beach at sunset. Hand in hand, he walked me all the way down to the end of the beach, away from the crowds, just as the sun was dipping below the ocean horizon. And then he stopped, dropped down to one knee, and pulled out a black velvet box from his pocket. Inside was the dazzling square diamond from my mom’s engagement ring, set in a brand-new white gold band.
I couldn’t speak when I saw him on one knee, his eyes glistening before he could even get out the words I knew he would say. All I could do was cover my mouth with my hands to keep my sobs of joy under control.
“I already asked your mum, and she gave me her blessing,” he said, his voice shaky. “I wanted . . . I wanted to ask you to marry me here because this is where you dad is and I wanted him to be part of it too.”
I nodded yes before he could even get out the words. Because it was the most perfect, most thoughtful moment Callum could ever dream up. And he did it for me. And I knew without a doubt I wanted to spend forever with him.
“I’m just saying, anak.” Mom’s voice pulls me back to the present. “You two would make the cutest babies. You’re so beautiful.” She nods at Callum. “And you’re so handsome. They would be the best-looking little ones. And free babysitting from me and Mrs. Tokushige whenever you want.”
I walk over and hug her from behind. “Promise we’ll give you a grandbaby someday,” I say. “But right now, we have to finish prepping so Callum and I can run back to the condo and film our latest episode for Chic TV today before we open.”