Not Always Happenstance (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 7

  Eyes drawn to Lani yet again, Easton caught her looking at him. For a moment, their gazes locked, and he felt an almost palpable connection between them—one that snapped and popped and sizzled. And then Ahe said something to her and it severed. She shook her head in the negative, then stood, moving away from Ahe, in the opposite direction from Easton.

  An impulse urged him to follow, but Easton resisted, letting her go.

  Easton tossed the empty plates in a metal garbage bin and looked around. The woman with the purple muumuu had opened the packages of the Starbursts he’d brought and dumped the individual pieces in a turquoise bowl. A few people walking by took a small handful, and Easton followed suit. Then he wandered over to the perimeter of the yard, squinted through the darkness, and finally spotted a few twigs on the ground beneath some shrubs. He snatched one up and broke the tip off.

  Easton returned to the fire, where Ahe was strumming the ukulele again and several people were singing along. A group of young adults had gathered around, and sparks flew as one of Ahe’s friends threw another log on. The seats were all taken, so Easton walked over to the group, found an opening between two logs and two girls, and crouched down. He unwrapped a cherry-flavored starburst, speared it with the stick, and held it over the fire. The girls on each side of him watched with curiosity.

  “’Ey, lolo,” called one of Ahe’s friends, nodding toward Easton. “Wot you doin’?”

  “Fishing,” Easton answered dryly.

  The guy laughed until Ahe’s elbow shut him up. “Seriously, haole, wot dat Starburst do to you?”

  Easton’s legs were beginning to cramp, so he sat back and lifted the stick from the fire. He blew on the candy for a moment before biting it off the end of the stick. The now-gooey fruity flavor coated his tongue before he swallowed it.

  “Haven’t you ever roasted a Starburst?” he asked.

  Ahe’s friend looked interested.

  “Can I try?” One of the girls next to him pointed at the stick. Easton handed it to her, then held out a handful of candy, allowing her to pick her favorite flavor. She chose lemon. Easton unwrapped it for her, pushed it on the end of the stick, and everyone watched as it changed from matte to glossy.

  After a few minutes, Easton said, “Looks good enough to eat.”

  She blew on it a few times before popping it into her mouth. Then she smiled and nodded. “Ho, dat’s trippy, l’dat.”

  The positive review sent several of the others searching for their own twigs, and before long, a colorful array of Starbursts hung over the fire. Only Ahe and his friends weren’t participating.

  “What’s going on?” Lani’s voice sounded behind him.

  “Ho, Lani, your lolo haole make us crazy like him,” said one of the guys as he blew on an orange Starburst.

  Easton craned his neck up until he saw her, then grinned. “Care for a roasted Starburst?”

  Her lips twitched slightly. “Um… no. I’m good, thanks.”

  He shrugged and returned his attention to the orange-flavored candy that he held over the fire.

  Lani crouched next to him and dropped her voice. “You ready to go anytime soon? My day starts early tomorrow.”

  Easton immediately handed his stick to the girl on his left. “Looks like I gotta go.”

  “Mahalo,” she said, accepting the stick.

  Easton pried himself off the ground and swiped the dust from his shorts. Then he nodded at the group. “Mahalo, Ahe. It’s been fun.”

  Ahe responded with a quick nod at Easton and an “Aloha” for Lani, then returned his attention to the ukulele.

  Others waved as they left, and the large woman in purple, who had never introduced herself, was the last to say, “Aloha, Lani and Easton. Come again.”

  Easton was touched that she’d made the effort to learn his name. After Lani hugged the woman goodbye, he hugged her as well, saying, “Mahalo.” As soon as they were alone in Lani’s truck, Easton found out the woman was Ahe’s mother, and her name was Kaia.

  Lani didn’t speak much on the drive home, and Easton didn’t either. Instead, he unrolled the window and let the fresh air fill the silence. When they pulled in the drive, Lani tugged the key from the ignition and hopped out.

  Easton met her in front of the truck. “Thanks for taking me with you tonight. I know you didn’t want to, but it was a night I’ll never forget, and… well, I appreciate it.”

  “No problem.”

  She started past him, and without really meaning to, Easton reached out and touched her arm. She stopped and stiffened, glancing back at him. “Yes?”

  He had no idea what to say or why he’d felt the need to detain her. The easy camaraderie they’d shared on the way into town had hardened into a formality he didn’t like. He wanted to go forward with Lani, not backward.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t feel the same. So he let his hand drop to his side, and he took a step back. “Moe malie, Lani.”

  Her eyes widened slightly before she recovered. “I hope you sleep well too. Good night.”

  Her flip-flops scuffed against the gravel, and her shadow danced behind her. She paused at the door and looked back only briefly before walking inside.

  Easton could smell the gentle perfume of the flowers along the walk, and somewhere, leaves rustled. The hammock was calling his name. So he shoved his hands into his pockets and was about to head to his bungalow when he heard footsteps.

  He turned around to find a petite, older Asian woman behind him. There was something familiar about her that he couldn’t place, and yet he didn’t think he’d ever seen her before. She had a sense of timelessness about her, as though he could pick her up, drop her in any era, and she’d fit right in.

  “Lovely night, isn’t it?” She had a mild Chinese accent.

  “Yes,” he said. “Are you a guest here as well?”

  She nodded. “I’m Pearl. And you are?”

  “Easton Allard.” She must be the woman Cora mentioned was teaching her Mahjong. He held out his hand for her to shake, which she did. Then she nodded in the direction Lani had gone, and something in her hair caught the light and glinted. It looked like a grouping of pearls embedded in a comb.

  “Was that Lani you were talking to?”

  “Yeah. We just got back from a local potluck thing.”

  “I hope you enjoyed yourself.”

  Easton’s gaze gravitated toward the house where Lani had disappeared inside. “I did. It was… enlightening.”

  “I find it interesting that sometimes it takes the sun going down to see more clearly.”

  Her words made Easton think of dusk framing Lani as she sang and the warm glow that had enveloped him. “I think you might be right.”

  She clasped her fingers together in front of her. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”

  “I’m not sure. Any suggestions?”

  Pearl shrugged. “How do you feel about fishing?”

  “Fishing?” Easton had been fishing one too many times in his life. He could think of ten thousand things he’d rather do than stand on a dock with a pole and wait. He’d never understood what drew so many people to that sport, if you could call it a sport.

  “I hear there’s good fishing to be found in Hāna Bay, and I noticed a small dingy through the window of the shed over there. Maybe you could give it a try. Though I wouldn’t go tomorrow. The forecast is predicting high winds.”

  Easton rubbed the back of his neck. “I have to be honest, I’m not much of a—”

  “I hear Lani is quite good at fishing. Maybe she could go along and give you a few pointers?”

  Suddenly, fishing didn’t sound so boring. It sounded enticing and riveting and even fun. Easton smiled. “You might be on to something, Pearl, though I have the feeling that Lani probably won’t be interested, not if I’m in the boat with her.”

  Pearl’s expression became thoughtful, and a few seconds passed before she said, “I think Lani is very protective of her heart. She won’t give it
away to just anyone.”

  “Ah, but she already has—to a guy named Derek who lives in California.”

  Pearl tilted her head to the side and peered at him, looking beyond his eyes and into what felt like his soul. What she found seemed to satisfy her, and she squinted toward her cottage. “Perhaps part of her heart, but I don’t think all of it. She keeps the most precious and tender part locked tight. It’ll take the right man—a special man—to find a way inside.”

  Easton chuckled because he didn’t know what else to say. Was she implying that he was that man, or should try to be that man? No. Easton wasn’t interested in finding his way into Lani’s heart. He simply wanted to borrow a portion of it for a while then give it back at the end of the summer, at which time Derek would be more than welcome to it. Easton wasn’t in this for keeps. He wasn’t in anything for keeps. That’s how things worked in his life; how they had to work.

  But deep down, he already knew that come the end of the summer, it might not be so easy to walk away this time.

  “I can see you have much to think about, so I will leave you to it.” Pearl smiled and dipped her head, then strode past him, walking gracefully back to her cottage.

  Easton was left mulling over the aftertaste of a very strange and interesting conversation. Forcing his feet up the grassy slope to his bungalow, he drew in a deep breath and pulled out his phone, going straight to the picture he’d taken of Lani singing. It was dark and slightly out of focus, but as he looked at her face and the people clustered around her, he was reminded of the feeling she’d brought to the group—to him.

  Something in his mind shifted, and for the first time since his plane landed in Maui, Easton was glad he’d wound up here. This was the reason he traveled, the reason he sought out and befriended the locals in every country he’d ever been to. Despite language barriers and cultural differences, each experience changed him for the better. And tonight, he had definitely been changed.

  The hammock no longer called out to him, so he bypassed it and went inside the bungalow instead. As he crawled onto the stiff and uncomfortable bed and rested his head on the pathetic excuse for a pillow, rather than thinking about melted, fruit-flavored candy or Hawaiian music or food, food, and more food, his thoughts veered to Lani.

  When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of keys and a lock in the shape of a heart.

  Lani scooped the last omelet on a plate, picked up a set of napkin-wrapped utensils, and carried it out to the lanai. All the guests had shown up within fifteen minutes of each other, including the Murphys, who had checked in late last night. Due to yet another cancellation, Pearl was still with them.

  When Lani had told her the good news, Pearl had smiled in her calm, serene way, and clasped her fingers in front of her waist—her only show of surprise. “Oh, what Providence.”

  “Yes. Providence,” Lani had said, not sure what to make of the woman. She couldn’t help but think of her grandmother’s comment about how most events in life weren’t happenstance, and for a moment, Lani had felt a seed of belief weave its way into her soul. But then she shook it off as ludicrous. Of course Pearl’s continued stay was a coincidence. She couldn’t control another guest’s decision to cancel a reservation.

  But it was odd that guests continued to cancel and she continued to stay.

  From the corner of her eye, Lani watched Pearl chat with her grandmother. The two spent a lot of time these days with heads bent together, and every time Lani asked her grandmother what they talked about, she would say, “Life, dear. Just life. Pearl is a very interesting woman.”

  Lani couldn’t argue with that.

  Suddenly, her hip whacked into something hard, and Lani stumbled to the side to keep her balance. When her elbow connected with Easton’s head, the slippery omelet slid from the plate, careened down Easton’s forehead and face, finally landing on his lap.

  Lani’s mouth dropped open, and she covered it with her free hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

  Easton glanced from the omelet massacre to her and pasted on a smile. “No worries. I’d rather wear an omelet than eat one, anyway.”

  His meaning took a second to register. “You don’t like omelets?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because I didn’t want to be rude. But now that you’ve tossed one on me, I’m feeling like I can be honest. So no, I don’t like omelets. I don’t really like to wear them either.”

  Lani glanced around at the other guests. Mr. and Mrs. Murphy were hunched forward, shoulders shaking, obviously trying not to laugh out loud, and Pearl and Puna watched with wide-open amusement.

  Lani was mortified.

  Easton tugged the plate from her hand and scooped what he could of the omelet off his lap, throwing it back on the plate. Not knowing what else to do, Lani quickly unwound the napkin from the utensils and held it out, feeling helpless. She wasn’t about to help wipe up the remaining egg bits from his lap.

  Desperate to do something to make it up to him, she asked, “What do you like for breakfast?”

  “My favorite is a large bowl full of Lucky Charms.”

  “Seriously?” She never knew for sure with him.

  “Deadly.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know how you can get more deadly than deadly.”

  “But…” Did they even sell Lucky Charms at the general store? Lani had no idea. She only knew that they didn’t have any in their cupboards at the moment. “Anything else?” she asked, trying to think of what they did have. “Yogurt? Fruit? Oatmeal? Banana bread?”

  He grinned. “I happen to love oatmeal and banana bread.”

  “You’re not just saying that because you don’t want to be rude?”

  He shook his head. “I think the omelet has taken our relationship to a new level of openness. I really do like oatmeal. With lots of brown sugar and a sprinkle of cinnamon. I’m even pretty good at making it myself if you show me where—”

  “No, no. I can handle it.” Lani grabbed the plate and headed back inside, pausing in the doorway to glance back. “Anyone else not like omelets and would prefer some oatmeal?”

  “These omelets are divine,” said Mrs. Murphy. “Pat and I were just talking about how delicious they are. I think if this young man had been able to taste a bite, he might have changed his mind about not liking them.”

  Lani gave Mrs. Murphy a grateful smile. “Thank you,” she said. “But as I said to everyone at check-in, if there’s anything on the morning menu that you don’t like, please”—she shot Easton a pointed glance—“let me know.”

  He offered her a salute before she went inside.

  By the time Lani had cooked a bowl of oatmeal and returned to the lanai, the Murphys had left and Easton had washed his hair and changed clothes. She set the bowl in front of him, along with a small plate of fruit and some extra brown sugar just in case she hadn’t sweetened it enough.

  “Mahalo,” he said. “This looks great.”

  “You’re welcome. Will there be anything else?”

  “Actually, yeah.” His gaze darted over to where Pearl and Puna still sat chatting, and he cleared his throat, raising his voice a notch. “I noticed a small boat in the shed off the driveway and wondered if you loan it out.”

  “You want to go boating?”

  Pearl and Puna had stopped talking, no doubt suddenly interested in Lani and Easton’s exchange. Easton cleared his throat again. “Fishing, actually. I’m hoping you might have a rod for me to borrow as well.”

  “You like to fish?”

  His eyes flickered to the other women again before returning to her. “Love it,” he said.

  For whatever reason, the news surprised Lani. Which was silly. Of course he enjoyed fishing. He was a writer and probably enjoyed any pastime that gave him opportunities to think.

  “Kadir loved to fish too,” said Puna, making it obvious they were eavesdropping. “You’ll find some old rods of his hanging next t
o the boat in the shed. His tackle box is on the shelf above. Feel free to use whatever you’d like. Lani has the key.”

  “Sounds great.” He squinted up at Lani. “Care to join me?”

  “Um…” She hadn’t been expecting an invite, so it took her a moment to think of an excuse—the vague kind that sounded as made up as it was. “Sorry, but my afternoon is pretty booked.”

  It wasn’t a complete lie. The lobby was past due for a good dusting, and she’d noticed some weeds growing near the front door.

  “Lani, that’s nonsense,” said Puna in her unhelpful way. “Nothing needs doing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Go and have fun. Live a little. Easton will need our truck to transport the boat to the bay anyway.”

  Easton grinned, apparently happy with Puna’s comment. Well of course he was. It meant that he won and Lani lost. Who wouldn’t be happy about that?

  Lani glared at her grandmother. “I thought you wanted to prune the bushes on the side of the house before it got too hot.”

  Puna waved her off. “That can wait. I’m enjoying myself here. Which is exactly my point. You should enjoy yourself too.”

  “It is a beautiful day,” added Pearl.

  Is no one on my side? thought Lani, trying to think of a polite way out. Trapped in a small boat in the middle of Hāna Bay with Easton wasn’t exactly her idea of an enjoyable afternoon. Fishing was supposed to be peaceful and relaxing, but with Easton seated across from her, there would be no peace or relaxation. Every glance he directed her way caused her anxiety. And yet how could she get out of it now, with Puna pulling the rug out from under her excuses?

  “You did throw an omelet on my lap this morning,” reminded Easton. “This can be your way of making it up to me.”

  “I made you oatmeal to make it up to you.”

  “No. You made me oatmeal because this is a bed and breakfast,” he countered.

  Out of excuses, ideas, and patience, Lani sighed. “Okay. Give me thirty minutes to clean up breakfast and get changed, and I’ll meet you by the shed.”

  His grin bordered on triumphant. “Thirty minutes it is.”