Not Always Happenstance (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 3

  “Shack?” he repeated.

  “Oh, sorry. I meant”—her fingers made quote marks in the air—“‘bungalow.’”

  “Am I… missing something?” If the woman hadn’t recognized his name, Easton would have thought he’d come to the wrong place, but… she had recognized his name and seemed to think he knew something he didn’t.

  She completely ignored his question. She planted her hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Seriously, how do you know my grandmother? In the five years I’ve been here, she’s refused to talk about the shack, set foot in the place, or even tackle the landscape around it. Every time I ask, all I get is ‘Leave it alone. That’s what I do.’ Like it’s some haunted shrine that will bring bad luck to anyone who looks at it. Then out of the blue you call, and suddenly it’s okay to enter the premises. Why is that?”

  She looked at Easton expectantly, as though he could offer an explanation, which he couldn’t. For all he knew, her grandmother had gone senile, though she’d sounded perfectly lucid over the phone. The laptop bag was beginning to dig into his shoulder, so Easton set it on a nearby chair. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I’ve never met your grandmother before. I just did a quick internet search of places to stay near Hāna and saw that your bed and breakfast got stellar reviews. So I crossed my fingers that you’d have an opening and called. Cora asked a few questions and told me that I was in luck. That you had a”—this time, it was Easton making the quotes—“‘newly renovated bungalow’ available for the entire summer. So I booked it and here I am.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly, as though she didn’t believe his story. “The entire summer is a long time.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Mind if I ask if you’re here for work or fun?”

  “Both” was the only explanation he offered. Over the years, Easton had become a pro at evading personal questions. It was rarely in his best interest to reveal too much about himself, and Hawaii was the last place he would ever want to come clean. And besides, his work was typically enjoyable.

  Before she could ask any more personal questions, he diverted the conversation back to where it had been headed before. “So about this ‘bungalow’ I’ve rented that is really an overgrown, run-down shack that hasn’t been lived-in for who knows how long.”

  “Well, now it’s not,” she said, defending the place she’d only just disparaged. “Like my grandmother told you over the phone, it’s been… renovated.” She sighed and took a seat in her task chair, swiping her long, wavy hair to the side of her face. Easton couldn’t stop looking at her eyes. Over fifty-five percent of the world’s population had brown eyes, and yet hers seemed different somehow. Rich and expressive, yet warm and mysterious.

  Easton pulled a chair forward and took a seat across from her. He didn’t usually have a conversation like this on check-in. It was… intriguing. This place was intriguing. The woman was intriguing. He wanted to know more.

  “Do you have a name?” he blurted.

  She studied him a moment before nodding. “Lokelani Whitman. And I apologize for the, uh… unconventional greeting. I don’t usually make guests go through a Q&A before checking them in. I just don’t understand my grandmother and was hoping you could give me some clues.”

  “Wish I could,” he said. “What did you say your name was? Loke-a-what?” She’d spoken so fast, he hadn’t caught her entire name.

  “Lok-e-lani,” she said slower, emphasizing the last two syllables.

  A Hawaiian name, and yet she didn’t appear like she had much Hawaiian blood in her. Slightly tanner skin and wider eyes, maybe, but other than that, she looked as much like a mainlander as him. Yes, she definitely intrigued him.

  “I like it,” said Easton, “But four syllables makes it a mouthful. Do you have a nickname?”

  “My friends call me Lani.”

  Easton nodded, thinking the name fit her well. “It’s good to meet you, Lani.”

  “I said my friends call me that.” Her expression contained humor and a challenge all rolled into one. She was teasing him.

  He chuckled. “Considering I’m a friendly guy, I’m hopeful I’ll be able to call you that sooner than later. Like you said, summer is a long time.”

  “Just don’t get too friendly,” she said as she sifted through papers. “I’m already taken.”

  Taken. Easton’s smile became pasted. He glanced at her ring finger, and when he saw nothing there, quirked an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  “His name is Derek Lundstrum. And the ring is coming.”

  Easton tried to hide his disappointment with humor. “Coming? As in… in the mail? Are you a mail-order bride?”

  “No.” Lani opened a file drawer and pulled out some paperwork and a pen. She held them out to him. “Mind looking this over and signing it for me? It’s our rental agreement.”

  He took them and quickly scrawled his name across the bottom, not bothering to read any of it. The elusive ring was much more interesting. “Boat then?”

  “No. I’m going to need a deposit. How would you like to pay for it?”

  Easton fished his wallet from his pocket and handed her a credit card. “Carrier pigeons?”

  That elicited a laugh—a lovely laugh—along with a shake of her head and a credit card swipe. “No, though that would be really cool.”

  “Airplane?”

  She handed his card back. “That’s probably as close as you’re going to get, so sure, let’s go with airplane.”

  He shoved the card into his wallet and pocketed it, his eyes never leaving hers. “So a plane-ordered bride then.”

  “I don’t take orders from anyone or anything.”

  “Except paying guests?”

  “Even paying guests,” she said. “But feel free to make as many requests as you’d like.” She fished a key from a drawer and walked around the side of the desk, her hips swaying and her floral, knee-length skirt swishing as she walked past him. “If you’d care to come with me, I’ll show you to your newly renovated bungalow.”

  Lani’s hand shook a little as she tried to turn the key in the lock. It resisted, so she gave it a jiggle and tried again. Not even a budge. What in the world? It had slid right in the few times before when she’d locked or unlocked the door.

  Stupid, sticky lock. Go in.

  “You sure you have the right key?” Easton’s smooth, distinctive voice sounded behind her. He could easily be a voice-double for Chris Pine. She could listen to him talk all day—and look at him too. Tall, but not too tall, defined shoulders, light green eyes, and dark blond hair that was shorter on the sides and swept up like a churning sea on top.

  Lani forced her mind back to the lock. Why won’t you open? She needed to get away from Easton and his voice and the way he made her stomach feel like she was riding in a boat during a storm. Not seasickness, but not okay either.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” said Lani, pulling it from the lock. “See?” She pointed at the plastic keychain where the word “bungalow” had been written.

  Easton shrugged. “You did say it was haunted. Maybe a bunch of Hawaiian spirits are trying to keep a haole like me out.”

  Ignoring the comment, she shoved the key back in and jiggled it harder. When it still wouldn’t turn, Lani sighed in frustration, blowing some of her hair from her face. She looked back at Easton, who was now leaning against the railing of the lanai, folding his arms and watching her with amusement.

  “How do you feel about climbing through windows?” she asked him.

  His eyebrow lifted and his lips quirked. “I try not to make a habit of it.” Pushing away from the railing, he nodded toward the door. “Mind if I give it a try?”

  Lani shrugged and stepped to the side. “Feel free. But if the Hawaiian spirits didn’t let me open it, I doubt they’ll let you.”

  His shoulder brushed hers, causing a breakout of goosebumps on her arm, so Lani stepped farther away. Not only did he have his good looks going for him, but he was confi
dent and suave in a way that most people couldn’t pull off. She squirmed, wishing she could walk away and leave him to it.

  Easton tried the lock, failed, then took the key out to examine it before trying again. “I really don’t think this key fits.”

  “It does,” she insisted. “It’s worked every other time. Trust me.”

  He chuckled, and the sound made Lani’s heart flutter. She took another step away. What was going on with her? She’d been around handsome men before without this strong of a reaction. It had to be the mystery surrounding his arrival—surrounding him. Who was he, and why did Puna suddenly want to open this place for him? Nothing was adding up or making sense.

  “I take it this wasn’t part of your renovation?” Giving up, he pulled the key from the lock and handed it back before walking across the lanai and planting his palms on the railing. He scanned the property and nodded at the hammock nestled between two jacaranda trees. “I suppose I could sleep there.”

  At least he was taking this all in stride. Lani had to give him credit for that. Most guests would have fled to the Hāna Hotel by now. She tried the key one more time before giving up. “There’s an open window around the side. If you don’t mind hopping through it, you can sleep on a, uh… semi-comfortable bed tonight.”

  “I don’t hop, and semi-comfortable bed?” He snickered. “I’m thinking your grandmother should handle all marketing from here on out. You’re not so great at it.”

  She chose to ignore the last part of his comment. “Scooting is a better word,” she said. “All you have to do is scoot through a window.”

  “Why don’t I help you scoot through it?” His lips lifted into a half smile that made her heart flutter again.

  “If I wasn’t wearing a skirt, I would.”

  Easton chuckled again as though he couldn’t believe this was happening to him. “Okay, fine. I’ll do the scooting. On one condition.”

  “Okay. Fine,” said Lani, anticipating his condition. “I’ll give you a discount on your room, although the rate Puna quoted you is already half the price of our other rentals.”

  “Your other rentals aren’t haunted,” he pointed out.

  “They haven’t been newly renovated either.”

  Easton laughed. “Actually, my condition has nothing to do with my room rate and more to do with you.”

  The flirtatious way he looked at her made her eyes narrow. “I told you. I’m taken.”

  “My, you’re presumptuous. That’s not what I was thinking either.”

  “Then what?” Lani was beginning to lose patience. She had other things to do, other things to think about, and another man to call.

  Easton came to stand in front of her and leaned a shoulder against the peeling green paint on the side of the bungalow. That was one of the many things Lani hadn’t had time to do—scrape and repaint.

  “Well?” she asked when he continued to stand there.

  “I was just thinking,” he said slowly, “that only a friend could get away with asking me to ‘scoot’ through a window, so… Lani, is it?”

  Spoken with that voice, and in that low, flirtatious way, her name sounded wonderful. Wow, he was hard to resist. She swallowed and looked away in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She would need to keep her distance if she was going to keep her head focused where it needed to be—on Derek Lundstrom, the man she was practically engaged to marry.

  Out of desperation or self-preservation—she couldn’t decide which—she agreed. “Fine. If Lokelani is too hard for you to say, feel free to call me Lani. Now c’mon, I’ll show you where the window is.”

  She trotted down the steps and walked around the side of the house, pointing at a small, opened window above her head as she walked past. “There it is. I’ll go find something for you to stand on.”

  “I think ‘hopping’ was a more accurate word.”

  Lani tried not to laugh as she walked around to the back of the house and grabbed a metal garbage can. She hauled it back to where Easton stood and turned it upside down. “There you go.”

  He eyed the over-turned can with skepticism. “This is a very unconventional way to get inside my room.”

  “Something tells me you’re a fan of the unconventional.”

  “Will I have to do this every time I come and go?”

  “Not if you leave your door unlocked.”

  He bit his lower lip, trying not to smile, then hopped up on the can, grabbed the top of the window, and gracefully swung his legs and body through the opening. A moment later, his head peered down at her. “Thank you for the aloha welcome to Hāna, Lani. It’s been an adventure.”

  She dropped to a curtsy and nodded. “If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Oh, you can count on it.” With a wink, his handsome face disappeared inside the room.

  Lani let out a breath of relief as she sauntered back down the grassy slope toward the main house, where she and Puna lived and cooked and worked. Not far to the side was a smaller cottage, where the Akua and Hema rooms were located. Lani looked over the property, appreciating its beauty for the thousandth time, and tried not to think of having to leave it all behind in only a few months’ time.

  Derek, as expected, had been the perfect gentleman, agreeing that it would be better for Lani to stay one last busy season and take the time to train her replacement. But every time Lani had pulled out her phone to call Maaike, her fingers froze, her heart stopped, and she couldn’t do it. Not yet, anyway. In time, she would have no choice, but she still had the entire summer before her. Two weeks was really all she would need to train Maaike.

  “Aloha, Lani,” called out Pearl from her lanai, lifting her hand in greeting.

  Lani changed directions and headed over. Pearl, who didn’t seem to have a last name—not even on the check she’d written as a deposit—was another mystery. Originally, she was supposed to leave the end of last week, but the Gettys had something come up unexpectedly and couldn’t make it, so Pearl had opted to stay until the following Wednesday, when another guest would be arriving. Lani wasn’t sure what the woman did all day or why she desired to stay. She seemed to enjoy chatting with Puna, learning about all the flowers and plants, strolling around the property, and relaxing on the lanai. She was rarely indoors.

  “Aloha, Pearl,” said Lani. “Are you enjoying your day?”

  Pearl nodded toward the shack/bungalow on the hill. “I see you have a new visitor. From this distance, he looks very handsome.”

  “He is handsome,” answered Lani honestly. “And apparently, he’ll be here until the end of August.”

  “Ah, so you’ll have time to really get to know him.” The way Pearl gazed at Lani made it feel like she could see into her soul. “It must be hard sometimes, always saying aloha-hello then aloha-goodbye a few days later. You never get to know people as who they really are.”

  Lani had never really thought about it before—at least not to the point where she considered it hard to do. In the past there had been a few guests that Lani had been sad to see go, but it was part of the job. Not everyone could stay in Hāna long-term like she had been able to do.

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” said Lani. “I have Puna, and I’ve made some good friends here in Hāna. I enjoy visiting with each guest that comes to stay, and I try my hardest to see that they have a wonderful time. I’ve never really felt like I’m missing out on anything.”

  Pearl nodded slowly, considering Lani’s words. “Will Rogers once said, ‘A stranger is just a friend I haven’t met yet.’ Isn’t that a beautiful way to look at it?”

  Lani agreed. It was. But the way Pearl looked at her, with one eyebrow lifted expectantly, gave Lani the impression that the older woman was trying to tell her something. But why? Lani had always made friends with each and every guest—or at least, as good of friends as one could make in only a few days’ time. Was Pearl implying she should make more of an effort?

  “The new guest,” Pearl continued. “What�
��s his name?”

  “Easton Allard.”

  “And what is his purpose, coming to Hāna for the summer?”

  Lani’s gaze drifted back up the rise to the little bungalow on the hill. “I don’t know,” she said. “He was very evasive.”

  Pearl nodded again, as though she’d already known that. “You know, Lani. I’ve been around for a long time and have met a lot of people in my travels. I’ve come to discover that those with the hardest shells tend to have the softest hearts.”

  Easton? A soft heart? Lani almost laughed at the thought. A hard shell, probably. But soft heart? That was doubtful. No, there were some definite holes in that theory. Derek, for example, had a soft shell and a soft heart, and Puna—well, she had the softest heart of them all.

  “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” said Lani, taking a step back. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Pearl.”

  “I always do,” she answered. Then she lifted her hand into the air, and Lani got a glimpse of a butterfly resting on her finger before it fluttered its wings and flew away.

  Jaw dropping, Lani stared in awe. “Was that—?” No, that couldn’t have been a Hawaiian Blue. They were too rare.

  “A butterfly? Yes,” answered Pearl. “The little darling landed on my hand earlier and has been keeping me company this morning. I’m sorry to see it go.”

  Lani blinked, feeling like at some point during the past week she’d fallen down a rabbit hole and landed in a very strange world. And it had all begun the day she’d looked up from her desk to find Pearl standing in the lobby.

  “Puna, what aren’t you telling me?” Lani asked as she basted olive oil across two small tuna steaks. Puna liked to eat dinner earlier, around five, and be in bed by eight. Running a bed and breakfast was hard work, and Lani had no idea how her grandmother kept at it day after day. And when she wasn’t busy with guests and the property, her grandmother would visit friends and neighbors, making sure everyone was okay and in good spirits.

  “I always tell you everything,” said her grandmother.

  “No,” said Lani, sprinkling salt and pepper on the fish. “You always dance around everything.”