next to the sink and started touching up her lipstick in the mirror. “You sure are in a hurry.”
Kristen froze in the act of unzipping her backpack and shrugged. “I’m just ready to get home and put my feet up.”
With Amy’s raised brows and pursed lips, she didn’t have to say the word Riiiight out loud.
But Kristen chose to ignore her. She pulled her shorts and sneakers from her backpack and stuffed the skirt and high heels in.
“You really think you’ll see him again tonight?” Amy turned away from the mirror and waggled her brows. “Captain Mysterious?”
Kristen grinned as she tied her shoelaces. The name the bar patrons had given him had stuck and the story had spread among the staff who hadn’t been working that night.
She’d barely caught a glimpse of him on the balcony, and had half convinced herself she’d conjured him up from wishful thinking. She couldn’t believe her hero from the other night lived in her building. But she’d have recognized that angled jaw and those biceps below his white T-shirt sleeves anywhere.
“If it’s him, he probably thinks I’m some psych-ward patient if he saw me in my ‘celebrate life’ moment.”
“Nah, I bet he’s into you. He probably noticed you that night he was here. Why else would he be waiting on his balcony at that time of night?”
“Uh, ‘cause he’s a serial killer stalking his next victim? Or a vampire? Or maybe he’s a werewolf watching for the full moon?”
Amy giggled as she rummaged around in her voluminous purse and pulled out a hairbrush. “Your own personal Edward or Jacob, huh? Which does he have? Edward’s smoldering passion, or Jacob’s rock-hard abs?”
Kristen felt a tiny flurry in her stomach picturing the mystery man. “Both.” The word came out kind of breathy and Amy gave her a sharp look.
“Both? Good grief, no wonder you’re all gaga over him.”
“I’m not gaga. I just thought he was … intriguing. Leaving like that before he could be thanked.”
Amy shrugged. “Maybe he was afraid of a lawsuit. You know what they say. No good deed goes unpunished.”
“Wow. Cynical much?” Kristen worried about her friend’s hard-edged attitude toward life. “What are you getting all fixed up for?”
Turning back to the mirror, Amy ran the brush through her long red curls. Kristen’s self-esteem took a hit every time she compared her own straight ordinary hair to those luscious red curls.
“Didn’t you say Kekoa mentioned he might drop by sometime?” Amy dropped the question so offhandedly that Kristen knew it wasn’t a casual inquiry.
“The guy who drives the boat I use? He might have mentioned he liked that Sneaky Tiki you made him last time he came in to bring me his new brochures. But we have to be at the dive site by seven to beat all the tour boats. I doubt he’ll show up now.”
Amy visibly deflated, her mouth turned down. “Oh.” She dropped her brush back into her purse.
“You like him!” Kristen shoved Amy’s shoulder with her own.
Amy spun to face Kristen. “What’s not to like with that smooth, dark skin and those intelligent black eyes? And his broad chest and shoulders look like he could row a girl all the way to the Big Island if he had to. Don’t you think he’s the sexiest guy you ever met? You gotta invite me on a dive, Kris.”
Kristen winced, hating to turn her friend down. “You know I’d love to, but, Kekoa isn’t just my boat driver, he’s my dive partner, too.”
“Please?” Amy begged. “I promise not to distract him. I’ve been dying to see where you dive, anyway. And, hey, maybe you could invite Captain Mysterious along. I’ll bring my famous triple-berry muffins.”
“Okay, okay.” Kristen chuckled, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’ll ask Kekoa. Maybe we could set something up for next week sometime.”
Amy hugged Kristen. “Thanks, girlfriend. All I want is a chance.”
“You might need more than that. Kekoa’s not easy to get to know.”
“We’ll see.” Amy’s gaze slipped away and her expression softened. “He’s got a lot of passion lurking beneath the surface. I can tell.”
“Kekoa?” Kristen didn’t see it, but … whatever. “If you say so. I’m off tomorrow, so I’ll text you if it’s Monday,” she said as she left the restroom, waved to her boss and headed for her bike.
It was barely a third of a mile from the Tradewinds to her condo on South Kihei Road and she was at her building before she’d even thought about what she might say if she saw the stranger again. But then again, what kind of conversation could she have yelling up at him on his balcony?
Wanting to soak her aching feet in the warm water before heading inside, she braked at the bike rack, swung her leg over the bike, took off her helmet and attached it to a handlebar.
After going knee-deep in the surf and wiggling her toes into the soft sand, she headed back up to her bike. A dog barking to her right made her catch her breath and jump. Her gaze shot to a tan shepherd mix running toward her and the tall shadow following the dog.
Her heart pumped stronger for one beat before she recognized it was him. Captain Mysterious.
The dog reached her side and she hunkered down to let him smell her hand. He nuzzled into her chest and almost knocked her over. Catching herself with her hands behind her, she laughed as the dog tried to lick her face.
“Hey, mutt.” The dark stranger grabbed the dog and held him away so she could get to her feet. “Sorry about that.”
Kristen stood, wiping her hands on her shorts. “No worries. He’s sweet.” She smiled and looked the man in the eyes. She had to lift her gaze way up. Her five-foot-two height seemed even more petite against his six-foot frame.
He dropped his gaze and wrestled the dog into sitting. “He’s not mine.”
She hesitated. “Oh.” She stood there a second as he looked anywhere but at her. Was that a signal for go away? Or was he just shy? Is that why he’d ducked back inside his condo last night? Finally, she stuck out her right hand. “I’m Kristen Turner.”
He cleared his throat and finally met her gaze. Kristen’s pulse fluttered. His eyes. Their deep brown color seemed to bear all the emotions his face refused to acknowledge. Despair. Dismissal. And hope. The despair drew her. The dismissal challenged her. And the hope cinched the deal.
“Luke Andrews.” He let go of the dog, who he’d been gently petting, and slid his hand into hers. Heat. Energy. Smooth skin. Long, slim fingers. She held on, not wanting to let whatever was passing between their hands go just yet.
He pulled his hand away.
Did he remember her from the other night? Was that why he was acting so on edge? Only one way to find out.
“I
