Not Always Happenstance (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 4

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Lani sighed in frustration. She stepped out the door to the lanai and slid the steaks on the grill. Then she returned to the kitchen, folded her arms, and zeroed in on her grandmother. “Why was the shack off limits until last week?”

  Puna continued chopping a mango. “The timing wasn’t right.”

  “What’s made it right now?”

  Her grandmother tossed a pile of mango chunks into a bowl and smoothed her hands down the front of her blue and purple floral apron. “Pearl made a comment about how it was a shame that such a beautiful spot wasn’t being put to good use. Not long after, a young man called who needed a place to stay for the summer. So I offered him the bungalow.”

  That still didn’t answer the question. Lani tried to keep her frustration in check. “For the last five years I have been telling you the same thing—that you could increase your profits by fixing up and renting out the place, but you never once listened to me. Then a guest makes one comment, someone else calls, and suddenly it’s a great idea?”

  “Like I said, timing. A young man in need of a place to stay never called right after you suggested it. But when it happened after Pearl said something, I figured it was meant to be.”

  “Meant to be?” Puna always had her eccentricities, but this was a bit much, even for her. “The only reason it’s suddenly ‘meant to be’ is because you made it that way. Easton’s calling when he did was a lucky coincidence on his part.”

  Puna scooped up the mango skins and threw them in the garbage. As she passed Lani on her way to the fridge, she paused to pat her granddaughter’s cheek. “Oh, kealoha, when are you going to learn that there are few happenstances in life? Most things occur for a reason. It’s our job to figure that reason out.”

  Lani clamped her lips closed to keep from scoffing. “Puna, you know I love you, but I really think that all you’re doing is letting Easton Allard take advantage of you. The rate he talked you down to is…” Lani searched her mind for a kind way of saying laughable.

  “He didn’t talk me down. He talked me up.”

  “What?” Lani stared at her grandmother.

  “I offered him the bungalow for free, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”

  Lani suddenly felt as though a strong conviction had been proven wrong, and it unsettled her. She’d assumed, all along, that Easton Allard had schmoozed his way to the low rental amount, when in reality, he’d done the reverse—which wouldn’t have been the easiest thing to do. Lani knew from experience how stubborn her grandmother could be.

  “So you’re telling me that—”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” came Easton’s voice from the open back door, “but there’s a lot of smoke coming from the grill out here.”

  Oh no, the steaks! Lani sprinted forward, squeezed past Easton, and threw open the grill. She grabbed the spatula and quickly flipped the fish over, revealing a completely charred underside. Honestly, couldn’t anything go right today?

  “They look the way they smell,” said Easton’s voice near her ear.

  Lani glanced over her shoulder and nearly whacked her face against his. Heat ran through her body that had nothing to do with the grill, and she side-stepped away—annoyed by him, by the burned fish, and by the whole world at the moment.

  “Thanks for pointing that out. I didn’t notice.”

  Puna poked her head out the door. “Oh, Lani. Did you burn the steaks again?”

  Again? In the five years Lani had lived in Hāna, she’d only burned tuna steaks once—and only because she’d never cooked them before. Her grandmother made it sound like it was a daily occurrence.

  “You burn fish often?” asked Easton.

  “No,” said Lani, shooting her grandmother a look that said, Since you’re the one who made him think that, you set him straight.

  Puna ignored “the look” and held out her hand. “You must be Easton. It’s wonderful to meet you in person.”

  Easton accepted her hand with two of his, sandwiching her fingers between his like they were old friends. “You must be Cora. I’d recognize your voice anywhere.”

  Her grandmother actually blushed—blushed! It was like Easton had read a book called How to Make People Fall in Love With You in Sixty Seconds or Less—not that Lani had fallen under his spell. She mentally revised the title to read: How To Make Most People Fall in Love With You…

  “Do you like the bungalow?” Puna asked warmly.

  “It’s just as you promised—charming, cozy, and definitely the best location on the island. In fact, this morning I had the most beautiful view right outside the bathroom window.” He winked at Lani, and her cheeks grew warm. She blamed it on the hot grill and quickly turned off the heat.

  “Lani, before I forget, I have a present for you.” Easton went fishing in his pocket for something.

  “Uh… it’s way too soon for presents, isn’t it?” Lani immediately clamped her mouth shut. Had she really just implied that there would come a time when it wasn’t too soon? Good grief. What she needed to do was go straight to her room, pull the covers over her head, and not come out until her brain returned.

  Easton held up a shiny, silver key that caught the light of the sun as it dangled from his fingers. Lani tried to read what was inscribed on the key chain when his other hand—a very smooth and warm hand—captured hers, holding it steady as he dropped the key onto her palm.

  She stared at it, trying not to be affected by his touch but failing miserably. “What’s this?” Attached to the key was a shiny, silver oval with an inscription that read, The Bungalow.

  His touch left abruptly as his hand released hers. “Let’s just say the lock problem has been resolved. That’s your copy.”

  She looked from the key to him. “You replaced the lock?”

  “I did.”

  “Where did you get one in Hāna?”

  “Not at the general store, that’s for sure.”

  “Then where?”

  “Haiku.”

  Lani’s jaw fell open for a moment before she closed it again. Haiku was an hour and a half drive down the famed Hāna Highway—the busiest, windiest road Lani had ever driven. Sure, the scenery was breathtaking, but you don’t see much of it when you’re the driver, and besides, the view from her lanai was also breathtaking. Lani hated the highway so much she only made the trip when absolutely necessary—usually about once a month—and only because there was a Costco in Kahului.

  “You drove all the way to Haiku?”

  “It’s a beautiful drive.”

  “It’s a horrible drive!” As he well knew because he’d already driven the road to get here. She quickly did the math in her head. Ouch.

  “Well, a guy’s got to be able to get in and out of his bungalow, doesn’t he?”

  A feeling of remorse elbowed Lani’s stomach. She should have offered to get the lock fixed this morning. She should have driven to Haiku herself. She should have—

  “I take it you’re planning to burn the other side of that fish so they match?” He nodded toward the steaks, and Lani grabbed the spatula and immediately removed the charred tuna from the grill, slapping them down on the plate. They looked pitiful—all broken, cracked, and black. Proof that she was easily distracted.

  “Maybe if you shred them and put the meat in a salad you won’t taste the charcoal flavor,” Easton offered.

  Trying not to wince, Lani picked up the plate and dumped the fish into a nearby trashcan.

  Easton stood over the can, shaking his head. “I feel like we should have a moment of silence. Tuna is some of my favorite fish, and well… it’s kind of sad to see it go to waste. Would you like to say a few words, Lani?”

  No, she didn’t want to say a few words—to the fish or to Easton. She wanted him to walk back up the hill, shut himself in the bungalow with that new lock, and keep out of sight. Maybe then she’d be able to think clearly.

  Instead, she muttered, “May they rest in peace.”

  Both
Easton and Puna laughed.

  “That was good of you to replace your own locks,” said Puna, still standing in the kitchen doorway, looking much too delighted by their exchange. “Let us know the cost, along with what you spent for gas, and we’ll take that off your rent.”

  “Please don’t.” There was no hint of schmooze in Easton’s voice this time. He sounded completely sincere. “It was the least I could do. And believe it or not, I enjoy fixing things.”

  Lani glanced down to see the shiny, silver key resting in her hand, reminding her that she was in Easton’s debt. She gulped down her pride, guilt, and discomfort in a painful swallow. “Yes, mahalo.” Her voice sounded even more pitiful than the fish had looked.

  “What was that?” Easton tipped his head in her direction, wearing a grin that told her he’d heard every word she’d said.

  Get over yourself and thank the man, Lani told herself firmly. So she lifted her chin and reminded herself that he’d just taken three hours of his time to do something for her.

  She met his gaze. “I said mahalo. I really do appreciate it.”

  His grin widened, making those beautiful green eyes glimmer with warmth and humor. “You’re welcome, Lokelani.”

  “I thought you didn’t like four-syllable words.”

  “That one is growing on me.” It suddenly felt as though someone had turned the grill up to a high heat, and an awkward moment passed before Puna put an end to it, bless her soul.

  “Have you eaten dinner yet, Easton?”

  It appeared to take Easton some effort to tear his gaze away from Lani. “No. I was just about to head into town. Which brings us back to the other reason I dropped by. Are there any good places to eat around here?”

  “Yes,” said Puna before Lani could tell him about her favorite little café. “It’s called the Halemahina Pumehana.”

  Warning bells sounded in Lani’s mind, thudding and pounding and crying, What are you doing, Puna?

  Easton didn’t seem to feel the same way because he smiled. “I’ve heard amazing things about that place. But I thought they only served breakfast there?”

  “For you, today we serve dinner too.” Puna shooed him inside. “Come on in. We have some fresh tuna steaks in the freezer that can be thawed and grilled in no time.”

  “When you put it that way, how could I say no?”

  Lani stood rooted next to the grill, knowing her reaction bordered on ridiculous. The least they could do was make Easton dinner, and yet Lani couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been blindfolded, spun in circles, and let loose.

  By the time she dragged her feet inside, Puna had already put three individually-packaged steaks in a bowl of water to defrost, and she had just picked up her knife to give Easton a lesson on the best way to slice a mango. Based on the way he flicked amused glances her way, Lani was sure he already knew, but he humored Puna regardless, saying things like, “Huh” and “Wow, that really does make it easier. Mahalo, Cora.”

  Meanwhile, Lani busied herself with adding another plate to the table on the lanai, washing the few dishes remaining in the sink, and getting everything ready for breakfast the following morning.

  When the steaks had defrosted, Lani removed them from the plastic bags.

  “How are you planning to season them?” Easton asked from behind, causing her body to jolt a little. What was her problem? Even when she’d first begun dating Derek, she’d never been this jittery. Then again, Derek wasn’t the sort to creep up behind her or sidle up next to her or tease or flirt or examine her the way Easton did.

  She cleared her throat, forcing her mind back to his question. “Salt. Pepper. Lemon. A little garlic.”

  He peered over her shoulder and assessed the fish. “Those are always good seasonings on fish.”

  Lani’s hand stilled on the container of olive oil as she glanced at him. “There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?”

  He shrugged and moved around to face her, leaning his hip against the counter. A smile teased the corners of his mouth. “If you’re planning to burn them again, it really doesn’t matter what you season them with.”

  “Keep going on like that and I won’t be responsible for the doneness of your fish—or over-doneness, I should say.”

  He chuckled, then chewed on his lower lip for a moment before saying, “How would you feel about learning a new way to cook that? I visited the Azores recently and learned a few things while I was there.”

  “You visited where?”

  “A beautiful island in the middle of the Atlantic. Owned by Portugal. And while I was there, a friend taught me a new way of cooking tuna that I really liked. Figured I could share.”

  He’d recently visited another island? Who was this guy?

  She glanced back at the fish and the bottle of olive oil she still held. Truthfully, she was tired of the same tried-and-true lemon, salt, and pepper combo on her fish. Maybe his way of cooking it would taste better. If not, then at least she’d have something to tease him about if he ever brought up burned food again.

  Lani stepped to the side and gestured at the steaks. “Teach away.”

  He hesitated, watching her closely. “I don’t want to step on any toes here. You sure you don’t mind?”

  She almost smiled at that. “It would take a lot more than offering to cook dinner for me to step on my toes.”

  “Awesome.” He clapped his hands then rubbed them together before glancing around the room. From a nearby hook, he grabbed a pink floral apron and put it on, tying the strings behind his back. When he glanced up and caught Lani trying not to laugh, he shrugged and said, “When in Rome…”

  “Make a dish from another country?” she quipped.

  He chuckled and dipped is head in acknowledgement. “Touché.”

  Lani returned his smile, realizing that for the first time since Easton had walked into the lobby that morning, she felt almost comfortable around him. Almost. Her body was still all-too-much aware of his.

  “I have to admit,” she said, “pink doesn’t look awful on you.”

  “That’s because no color looks awful on me. I get it from my mother.” He didn’t sound cocky or full of himself, merely confident.

  Lani conceded that he was probably right. He was the type of person who could pull off just about anything—maybe even a lava-lava and a floral headdress, though that might be pushing it.

  “Have any butter and cayenne pepper?” he asked.

  Lani retrieved the ingredients, setting them down on the counter in front of him. “Want me to turn on the grill again?” She could probably use some fresh air—and some distance.

  “No grill. We’re going to sear these beauties with a frying pan.”

  Of course they were. She looked wistfully at the door before resigning herself to the too-cozy kitchen. She reached above the stove and grabbed one of the frying pans hanging from a rack, setting it on the counter next to him. “Need anything else?”

  “Nope. Just listen, watch, and learn.” He picked up the cayenne. “First things first. We’re going to season the fish with a few pinches of this and some salt.” He glanced over his shoulder. “How spicy do you like your food, Cora?”

  “Not too hot and not too bland,” came Puna’s response.

  Easton smiled. “What about you, Lani?”

  “I can handle a little more heat.”

  “Awesome.” He coated the steaks with the seasonings, backing off on the cayenne pepper when it came to Puna’s. Then he turned up the gas to high and added a little butter and olive oil to the frying pan. As it began to sizzle, he sprinkled in some peppercorns.

  Lani watched with interest as he stirred them around in the butter/oil mixture until they softened and popped. Then he tossed in the tuna. “How rare do you ladies like your fish?”

  Lani didn’t have to look at her grandmother to answer for both of them. “Well done.”

  Easton glanced at her. “No pink at all?”

  “Zero pink.”

 
He shook his head sadly as though he found her answer tragic. “Just when I started to think you both had adventurous sides to you.”

  “We’re about to try fish cooked by a relative stranger who was taught to make it in a country I’ve never heard of,” Lani pointed out. “I’d call that pretty adventurous.”

  He chuckled. “Touché again. Okay, no pink it is. But you have to at least try a bite of mine.” Easton flipped his steak over first, revealing a dark pink, uncooked hue. Lani cringed at the sight, thinking there was no way he’d get her to try that.

  Her gaze traveled from the fish up his toned arm and finally landed on his handsome profile. She rested her hip against the counter and said, “What were you doing in the… Azarz, was it?”

  “Azor-es,” he corrected. “And I was visiting.”

  “Friends?”

  “Making friends.”

  “Ever plan to go back?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not? Didn’t you like it?”

  “Loved it.”

  “Then why not go back?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Been there, done that, I guess. There are a lot of other places to see in this world.”

  “Like Maui?”

  “Exactly.” He removed his fish from the pan and slid it onto a plate, then flipped the other two steaks over, revealing golden brown undersides.

  Lani covered his plate with tinfoil to keep it warm. “Ever been to Maui before?”

  “Once, a long time ago. A friend invited me to come with his family when I was a kid. He was an only child and his parents didn’t want him to be bored. We spent the whole time at a resort in Kaanapali, and by the end of the week, we were both sick of the sand.”

  “Is that why you’re back? Because you want to see the rest of the island?”

  Easton flipped one of the steaks over, but it wasn’t done so he flipped it back. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “And you avoid answering most of them.”

  “What about you?” he said. “What brought you to Hāna?”

  So it was back to this. The hard shell that supposedly protected a soft heart. Lani studied him a moment longer before she pushed away from the counter and grabbed the bowl of fruit her grandmother had just finished filling.