Her Hawaiian Homecoming

“Hey, man. I know it’s not my business. You guys were so happy... I just... I mean, I’ve heard the rumors...”

“And you believe them?” Dallas wouldn’t be surprised. The Big Island might be the largest in the Hawaii chain, but it was still just like one big floating small town. No local got to keep secrets.

“Of course not.” Kai sounded offended. “After all you’ve done for me—for Jesse? Are you seriously asking me that question?”

Dallas felt rightfully put in his place.

“The rumors do make you sound like a real asshole,” Kai continued. “You should just tell me the real story, so I can set the record straight. You know I’ve had my share of women troubles.” Being one of the wealthiest and most famous surfers in the world came with a price: an endless parade of hot, gold-digging model girlfriends who made his life miserable.

Even though he knew Kai would understand the deal with Jennifer, would more than understand, he’d relate, he still couldn’t tell. Wouldn’t.

Kai looked at Dallas for a long time, waiting for an answer. Dallas focused on the pipe, twisting it hard.

“Not going to happen.” Dallas met Kai’s gaze, a stubborn set to his chin, the brim of his cowboy hat throwing a shadow across his face. He looked away first, assessing his plumbing handiwork. “There, all done.” He dropped the tool back into his box and snapped the metal lid shut.

“Fine,” Kai said. “Aunt Kaimana says you shouldn’t leave crap like that bottled up inside. It’ll cause cancer.”

“Oh? Is that an old Hawaiian proverb?”

“With her, everything is a Hawaiian proverb,” Kai said and grinned. “She’s sticking up for you, by the way. She says there are at least two sides to every story.”

“Aunt Kaimana is a wise woman.” That was all Dallas planned to say about what happened with Jennifer.

“Uh-huh. By the way, Jesse said she doesn’t care if you get back with Jennifer or not, but that you shouldn’t be single.”

“Why not?”

“She says it’s tacky to be a tourist attraction. If you keep sleeping with all the girls on spring break, then she’s going to start printing up brochures.”

Dallas felt a reluctant chuckle pop up in his throat. Jesse would do it, too. She was not the kind of woman to make an idle threat.

“I don’t sleep with college kids,” Dallas corrected. “I like women with more experience. Besides, I hardly ever take them home.” He had drinks with tourists, and once, only once, he’d hooked up with one, but by and large, he usually just drove them home and tucked their drunk, slurring selves safely into their hotel beds—fully clothed. He thought about the marketing executive last weekend who’d been so intent on learning all about the aloha spirit until she’d had her fourth mai tai.

“You don’t take them to your house because you probably hang out at their resort. Easier to sneak out in the morning.”

Dallas said nothing. If Kai wanted to believe he was getting laid every weekend, then he’d just leave it at that.

Kai shook his head, his mirrored sunglasses catching the light of the sun. “Aren’t you too old to be chasing tourists? I am, and I’m a year younger than you.”

“Tourists are safer than locals.” Dallas swiped at the sweat on his neck.

“Why? Because they don’t stick around?” Kai cocked an eyebrow, but Dallas just half shrugged one shoulder. The truth was, the locals had heard all the rumors, and he knew for sure that plenty of them believed the lies Jennifer spread.

Kai laughed and gave his friend a hard shove. “You’re not in your twenties anymore. You need to evolve, man.”

“I tried evolving. It didn’t work for me.” Dallas thought about Jennifer again, and he felt a cold, hard pit in his stomach. “Anyway, I’ve got to clean up before Misu’s granddaughter gets here. What’s her name? Alani, I think.”

“You mean Allie.” Kai whistled and shook his head. “I haven’t seen that girl in years.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, we grew up as neighbors, went to kindergarten together. She moved to the mainland for third grade. She liked mangos. That’s what I remember. And she was a super tomboy, climbed every tree we had.”

“Misu has a picture of her as a girl on her refrigerator.” In that grainy old photo, Allie was a slim, lanky thing, her dark, nearly black hair in a high ponytail, standing next to Misu, who had on a big straw-brimmed hat. Misu kept the picture on a magnetic frame on her refrigerator. “Still doesn’t explain why she missed Misu’s funeral.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on her. I’m sure she had her reasons. She had it really rough when she was little. There was a bad car accident. Her dad died. It was a miracle she survived. Anyway, she and her mom moved to the mainland after that.”

“He died?” Dallas knew how that felt. His father had passed on when he was just nineteen. But as a kid of...what, eight? That must’ve been rough.

The sound of tires on the gravel driveway interrupted the conversation, and both men turned, staring at the path, half hidden by the tall, treelike coffee plants growing in thick rows together. A small, compact white rental car gently nosed its way up the drive. Allie, Dallas assumed.

Linus the goat ambled around the corner, and the driver, skittish, veered hard right—too sharply. The tiny compact tire went off the driveway into the ruts on the side of the road with a hard thump, and splattered the trunks of the coffee trees with mud. Dallas straightened his hat as he walked out to save the damsel in distress.

That was when she opened the door and got out to inspect the stuck wheel.

This was no gangly preadolescent girl, like the one in the dated photo on Misu’s fridge. This was a full-blown woman, late twenties, with long, lean legs in formfitting jeans, and thick raven-black hair that fell long and straight past her shoulders. She did look like Misu’s kin, had the same chin and pronounced cheekbones. But she was clearly an ethnic mix: not wholly Japanese, but not wholly something else, either. She had flawless olive skin and dark eyes, her thick lashes magnified by mascara. Her thin, just-defined arms that jutted from her short-sleeved T-shirt showed just how fit she was. She had a sweater wrapped around her tiny waist, a wool remnant from Chicago, no doubt, as were her high-heeled leather ankle boots. She flicked a long, shiny strand of hair from her eyes, and as she inspected the damage, the muddied wheel sank three inches into the dark muck. If she were out on the main road, at least three cars would’ve stopped, men stumbling over themselves trying to help her.

“Wow, that is not the Allie I remember,” Kai said, voice low.

Dallas didn’t like the way Kai said that, and suddenly he felt like calling dibs, as if they were at a bar.

She hadn’t seen them yet. Dallas wondered what she would do now. A gorgeous girl like that probably wasn’t used to fending for herself. No doubt, she’d be on the phone instantly, asking for help.

Instead, she looked at the wheel, and then, without missing a beat, ducked inside the car to put the gearshift in Neutral. She walked around the car in her sexy but decidedly impractical heels, the black leather boot soles sinking into the mud as she went. She put two perfectly manicured hands on the back bumper and gave it her best push. He had to admire her spirit, even if the effort was futile. She probably couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds. One of her boots slipped, but she caught herself on the bumper.

“That’s the Allie I remember,” Kai said. “Never afraid of a little dirt.” Kai stepped forward. “Allie!” he called, drawing her attention. The woman’s head whipped up, and she squinted. “It’s Kai! Remember me? Kai Brady?”

“Kai,” Allie repeated, slowly at first and then once more, recognition dawning. “The boy who’d always steal my mango candy.”

Kai laughed. “Guilty,” he said, and wrapped his old friend in a hug.

“You’ve grown up!”

“So have you.” Kai backed away. Dallas found he couldn’t take his eyes off Allie. He’d seen his share of pretty girls, but something about her was just...striking. Flawless skin, a heart-shaped mouth and perfect cheekbones. Her big dark eyes turned to study him, and he felt rooted to the spot. “Uh...” She paused, her eyes flicking down to his bare chest, and it was then he remembered he’d forgotten to put his shirt back on. Where were his manners?

“This is Dallas,” Kai said. “He’s a good guy, once you get past the cowboy act.”

“It’s no act,” Dallas drawled, glad he could interrupt the little reunion. He wanted more of Allie’s attention. “I was raised on a ranch in Texas. I’d offer to shake your hand, but mine are...” He opened his palms to show the dirt from the water tank pipes.

“So you’re Dallas.” She said his name in a guarded way, which made him think they might have gotten off on the wrong foot, probably because he was nonfamily included in the will. His own father didn’t believe in giving out land to anyone but family and he had a very narrow definition of what that meant. He couldn’t blame her for thinking the same.

“Can we give you a hand?” Dallas asked.

“That would be great,” Allie said, but she looked at Kai. Dallas tried not to take offense as he rounded the back of the car. Still, he had to wonder, was there something between them? He watched the two carefully, but saw nothing hinting at sexual tension. She looked at him like a long-lost brother. Good.

“We’ve got this,” Kai assured her.

“Go on and get in and ease on to the gas when I tell you,” Dallas said.