Chapter Eight
Cal gripped the handlebars as the Triumph rattled up the scrubby track. Hours had passed, and the sun was high overhead, making sweat run down his brow. His ears rang with the sound of creaking shocks and scattering gravel. In part, that was due to the rough surface and steep slope. He’d been out all morning, caching gear in strategic locations above the plantation.
But the rough ride was just one reason for the tension in his body. The other was the way Cynthia’s kiss still burned on his lips.
Burns in a good way, his wolf hummed.
Which, he supposed, was true. For the first time in the past twelve years, he remembered what it felt like to be alive. To look to the future with hope rather than despair. But that kiss had also dredged up a lot of pain and fear. Hope was scary as hell. So were dreams, because of the pain that ensued when they crashed and burned.
The bike kicked up enough dust that he had to keep his lips sealed, which was a good thing. It kept him from smacking them together and replaying every microsecond of that kiss.
So, he hadn’t accomplished much that morning in terms of processing that kiss. But he had made good progress setting up his gear. One defensive position was ready to go, and two more were on their way. He eyed the sky, wondering how much time he had left before Cynthia’s enemies barreled in, darkening Maui’s clear blue skies.
I vote for never, his wolf muttered.
Never would be nice, but he doubted Cynthia would get that lucky. Her enemies were closing in, all right, whether he judged by gut instinct or the reports coming in from Silas’s informants. Their arrival wasn’t so much a question of if but when.
He looked over the slopes one more time. He’d already made two trips between the plantation and the hills, and he was itching to make a third. But that much activity in one area was sure to draw attention, so he would have to wait a day or two.
His wolf sighed. Knowing our luck, it will be sooner.
Cal slowed down at an intersection, dismounted, and kicked some dirt over the tire tracks he’d left. Then he slid back onto his bike and made for the main road. Minutes later, he was cruising over asphalt with the wind whipping his hair and memories racing through his mind. It was all too easy to imagine Cynthia hanging on to him as he slalomed the bike along that idyllic coastal road, and his body warmed. But when he made the turn for the plantation’s unobtrusive driveway, his back grew stiff and his palms sweaty at the prospect of seeing her again.
Tim let him through the gate, raising his thick eyebrows in a way that said, What the hell have you been up to, you rogue?
Cal coasted by without a word, thankful that Silas had given him free rein to move around as he pleased. Otherwise, he’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
At the crest of the hill, he paused to gaze over the plantation. Most of it was tangled in overgrowth and dotted with relics of the past — a rusting tractor here, a collapsed shed there. Apparently, the place had been abandoned for years. The patches of land Cynthia and the others had wrestled back into use really stood out. One was the perfectly square plot of land lined with neat rows of coffee bushes that Hailey tended. Another was the tidy grass oval around the main house, complete with flowerpots and climbing tiers of bougainvillea. Then there was the winding track down to the tiny handkerchief of private beach, and beyond that—
He held his breath for a moment. Beyond was the best part — the ocean. Miles and miles of it, stretching all the way to infinity. As a wolf shifter, he usually felt most at home in the forest. But the ocean was pretty amazing too. The tangy salt air, the sense of space…
I could get used to it here, his wolf whispered.
But then his eyes slid to the figure pacing on the porch of the plantation house, and he pursed his lips. Could he, though? Much as the idea appealed, a single kiss couldn’t undo a decade of damage.
Reluctantly, he shoved off and cruised down to the barn, feeling Cynthia’s eyes on him the whole time. Once he parked the bike, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get himself together. Which was hard with his wolf side replaying that kiss over and over in his mind.
He stepped out into the sunshine, determined to play it cool. But the second he spotted Cynthia, he stopped. Why was she pacing? What was wrong?
Instead of swaggering over, pretending he didn’t have a care in the world, he ended up rushing over then screeching to a halt at the foot of the stairs. Cynthia gave him a weak smile while she murmured into her phone.
“How long?” She bit a perfectly manicured nail. “You can’t come any sooner?”
Cal’s eyes narrowed. Who was coming? Why?
“What about Chase?” she asked. A long silence ensued while she waited for a reply. “Isn’t there someone else who can cover for you?”
Cal wondered who was on the other end of the line. Tim came up to wait silently beside him, looking concerned. Finally, Cynthia clicked the phone off and looked down.
“What is it?” Cal asked.
She covered her eyes with one hand, rubbing hard. “Nothing, really.”
Cal could have snorted. Nothing, really was Cynthia code for a huge problem — one she couldn’t ask for help with because of her own damn pride.
He stirred the air with his hands, wishing he could say, Ask. It doesn’t hurt to ask.
But that was Cynthia — always trying to solve problems alone. The very first time he’d met her, she’d been on the side of the road with a broken-down car, insisting everything was fine when it was far from.
She motioned toward the south. “Dell took Joey to town this morning, but the Lucky Devil needs someone to cover the lunch shift, so Dell can’t bring Joey home.”
Cal waited. That was the big problem?
“Can’t Anjali bring Joey home?” Tim asked.
Cynthia shook her head. “Anjali took the car to Kahului, and she won’t be back for a while.”
“What about Chase or Sophie?”
Cynthia started pacing again. “They’re working too, and the other car is over in Hunter’s workshop.”
Cal looked from Cynthia to Tim and back. “Can’t Joey wait a while?”
Cynthia spun on her heel, and holy hell, did she look outraged. “I will not allow my son to hang around a bar.”
Tim shot Cal a look that said, Never get between a mama bear and her cub…especially if she’s a dragon.
“I thought the Lucky Devil was a restaurant,” Cal said, very carefully.
Cynthia made a face. “A restaurant with a bar. And regulars.” Her voice dripped with disdain.
Cal couldn’t help laughing out loud. “You sound like your mother.”
Tim stared at him with a look that said, You know her mother?
Cal rolled his eyes. He’d met most of that whole fucking family, and they were a bigger mess than his.
Cynthia thrust her hands onto her hips. “I do not.”
“You do too.”
Cynthia slumped. “God, you’re right. I do.”
The urge to reach out and hug her came over Cal. To tell her that she wasn’t perfect, but he loved her anyway.
Love you, his wolf crooned.
Cal ordered the beast to shut up, but it was too late. Cynthia looked up, staring at him.
You love me? her voice whispered in his mind.
Of course I love you. He sighed and sent the words into her mind. Then he stirred the air with his hands.
“Anyway…Joey?”
Cynthia jolted, turned pink, and started pacing again. “I just don’t want him hanging around with…with…”
Cal waited, watching the pink flush of her cheeks turn into an all-out crimson. Cynthia wasn’t a snob at heart, but her upbringing came through sometimes. It was kind of fun to see her struggle with those two sides of herself, though.
“…with bad influences, all right?” She crossed her arms, but it was more of a me-hug than a gesture of defiance.
Cal would have loved to tease her with something like, Bad influences — like me? But she was so stressed out, he caved in.
“No problem. I’ll take you.”
Relief washed over her face. Then she blanched. “Wait. You mean, ride the bike? With you?”
Cal took a deep breath, picturing what that meant. Did he really dare get that close to her again?
Absolutely. His wolf wagged its tail. Just like old times.
Cal snorted. This was nothing like old times, not with all the baggage he and Cynthia had accumulated in the intervening years.
“Sure. Why not?” he said, working hard to keep the wobble out of his voice.
“How are you going to get Joey back on the bike?” Tim pointed out.
“We’ll get the keys from Chase and drive back.”
See? his wolf insisted. Easy.
But there was nothing easy about hopping on the bike with Cynthia. Not with the rift that had grown between them in the past twelve years. Kissing her the previous night could be forgiven, because they’d both been worked up. Not only that, but the moonlight had been shining directly on them, making their shifter sides lose control. This was totally different.
Tim nodded. “Oh, right. You mean, Chase can ride your bike back later?”
Cal shook his head. No one rode that bike but him. “We’ll swap back later.”
Whatever, his wolf grumbled, impatient to go.
Cynthia stared at him so intently, her eyes started to glow.
Yeah, he knew how she felt. She was dying to get close again, just like he was. But she was terrified, too. Keeping their distance was safer than wandering into the minefield of the past, and resenting was easier than forgiving. Did he really have what it took? Did she?
When Cynthia finally spoke, her voice was so quiet, Cal almost missed it.
“All right.” A moment later, she added, “If you don’t mind.”
Cal grinned. That’s my girl.
His reply was a mumble, because he was trying to dampen his own hopes. “I don’t mind at all.”
* * *
Minutes later, they were zooming down the coastal highway, though Cal had to pinch himself to check if it was real or the dream he’d used so often to remain sane. But those really were Cynthia’s arms around his waist, and that really was her chin resting on his shoulder.
For the first mile, she tried to keep some distance between their bodies, exactly as she had after her car had broken down on the side of the road in the Adirondacks. But trying not to touch was hopeless, and they both knew it. For one thing, the angle of the seat made her body slide against his. And old habits were hard to break, even if they pretended not to think about the intimacy they had once shared.
Eventually, Cynthia gave in to the inevitable, and her arms grew ever more comfortable around his waist. Cal wished the ride to town were longer so he could stretch out that glorious feeling. He couldn’t see the long, silky strands of her black hair whipping in the wind, but he could sense all that movement back there. All that excitement too. Cynthia felt it. He felt it. And damn, it was almost like they had a third passenger: destiny.
A thousand scents bombarded him as they buzzed along – some exotic, some familiar. The rose-and-willow scent of Cynthia’s skin blended with that of giant pink flowers that grew on the side of the road. A green bird flitted by, brighter than any animal Cal had ever seen. The Triumph cruised past two young guys in a beat-up old Toyota with a pair of surfboards sticking out the back. It was as if all of Maui was trying to cheer him up, saying, Hey, you’re in Hawaii now. Hang loose, man.
Then, out of nowhere, Cynthia motioned to a beach park on the right.
“Pull over.”
Cal glanced back, wondering why she had tensed up. But he did as he was told and pulled into the parking lot. Then he turned expectantly.
Cynthia’s face was etched with worry lines, and her eyes were downcast when she whispered, “We have to talk.”
The surfers cruised their Toyota into the parking lot just as Cynthia said talk, and for a moment, Cal had the crazy impulse to pretend he hadn’t heard. Talking was scary, because words were tied to emotions, and behind them loomed a mountain of hurt.
But Cynthia motioned him to move the bike a little farther along, stopping under one of those picture-perfect palm trees that featured on postcards. The kind with happy lovers under the swaying fronds, not couples who had been ripped apart then thrown back together by a tempest called fate.
“We have to talk,” she said again.
Briefly, Cal considered reminding her about picking up Joey. But that would be a cheap ploy to avoid a talk, and Cynthia was right. They needed this. So when she slid off one side of the bike, he dismounted off the other. That left the bike standing silently between them, representing the wall that had grown up between them over the years.
Her lips quivered, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. He cupped her face, brushing it away with his thumb.
“I’m so confused,” Cynthia whispered. Then she bit her lip and looked him in the eye. “Why?”
He tilted his head. Why what?
“You said you loved me.”
Cal gave a jerk of a nod. “Of course I do.”
Oops. He’d meant to say I did — past tense.
Cynthia’s eyes flashed with dozens of emotions, all mixing and colliding the way his were.
“I can understand why you left. I had to marry Barnaby, and I told you to go. But…” Her voice faltered, and her eyes burned with tears. “But when I heard you went off with Sheila…”
Cal’s mind spun. What was she talking about?
“How could you?” Cynthia blurted.
“How could I what?”
Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say, because Cynthia’s eyes sparked in anger.
“I was forced to accept Barnaby. But no one forced you to head straight into the arms of another woman the minute you left me.”
Whoa. He stuck a hand on the Triumph’s fuel tank while the world around him spun. Cynthia thought he’d gone off with some other woman? Why would he do that?
“I…what?” Anger boiled up in him, and sentiments he’d never meant to utter came bubbling out. “You were the one who married another guy. Do you know what that did to me, knowing you were with someone else? Night after night…” He trailed off because the thought made him sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have come to Maui, after all.
“It wasn’t night after night.” Cynthia glared.
“It was twelve years. Twelve.” Cal snorted. “And you’re accusing me of going off with someone one time?” He was going to add that he’d done no such thing, but Cynthia cut in.
“Believe me, Barnaby was about as enthusiastic about mating as I was. We had separate bedrooms. Separate lives.”
Cal made a face. “And that’s how Joey came about, I suppose?”
She glared. “I slept with Barnaby twice, Cal. Twice in nine years. And believe me, it was all business. Business that made me feel sick. Ashamed.”
“Right. Like any guy married to you would be fine with just once or twice. There’s no need to make Barnaby into a goddamned saint.”
“I never said he was a saint.”
“Then what are you saying?”
She paused as if on the cusp of some great secret, her eyes darting from side to side. Then she leaned in to whisper.
“Barnaby was gay, Cal. Gay.”
The words rang through Cal’s mind, but somehow, he couldn’t quite grasp their meaning. “What?”
She looked around again as if a member of her nutty family might be eavesdropping. “I said, Barnaby was gay.”
“Gay?”
Cal’s jaw dropped. He would never, ever have guessed. But suddenly, it made sense. A slightly older dragon who’d put off mating as long as he could, even when it came to a woman as desirable as Cynthia. A man who’d only touched her to do what the family line required.
“It was just as hard for him as it was for me,” Cynthia said, choking up again. “But he was good to me. And he was a great father. He loved Joey more than anything.” Cynthia looked as if she might cry, but she straightened her shoulders and composed herself. “I hated what I had to do. But no one forced you to take off with another woman. We promised we would always keep our love alive even if we couldn’t be together. Why did you break your word?”
Cal nearly yelled in protest. But the past decade had taught him a lot, like when to keep his mouth shut and think.
“I didn’t go off with anybody,” he said at last. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cynthia scowled. “You deny it?”
He just looked at her, letting his eyes do the talking. He’d never, ever touched another woman after meeting Cynthia. He’d never been the slightest bit tempted to do so. Why would he? Cynthia was his mate. There was no one else for him, and there never would be.
Cynthia searched his face, and when she spoke, the hard edge of her voice had faded slightly. “Sheila. They told me you went off to Sheila.”
Finally, a lightbulb went off in Cal’s head. “My aunt? Yeah, I did head down to visit her after you said goodbye. Way down in Georgia, just to get away.”
Cynthia gaped. “Your aunt? But… They told me…”
“Who told you?”
Cynthia’s eyes wandered over the beach, but he could tell her mind was on the past, grasping at foggy memories. “I asked my cousins to find you and pass on a message. To tell you how much I loved you, one more time. But they came back, saying you’d gone off to a woman named Sheila.”
“And you believed them? You jumped to the conclusion that there was someone else?”
For a moment, Cal teetered on the razor’s edge of fury and forgiveness. How could Cynthia believe such a thing?
But he finally had a chance to talk to the woman he loved — maybe even a chance to patch things up. So he held his breath and counted to ten before speaking again.
“Who told you that?”
“My cousins.” Cynthia tapped her fingers as she thought. “Presley and… Presley and…” Realization flashed over her face as her voice broke off. “Presley and Moira.”
The name came out like poison, and Cal recoiled.
“Moira? And you believed that, coming from her?”
Cynthia paled. “I always thought Presley was okay. And Moira…” The fingers tapping on her arm took on the distinctive curve of talons as her dragon side showed. “Moira was different back then.” She made a face. “Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe I just hadn’t realized how cruel she was at that point.”
Cruel didn’t begin to describe Moira. The woman was evil – pure evil. But if Cal really thought about Cynthia’s story, it made sense. Back then, Moira hadn’t started her steep rise to power. No one could have predicted she would become anything more than a nasty third cousin the family tended to ignore.
Cynthia hugged herself tightly, but that didn’t hide the tremble in her arms. “At the time, the only thing that stuck in my mind was that you’d gone off to see a woman. I didn’t think about who told me that.”
“Well, I guess they weren’t exactly lying. I did go visit my aunt Sheila.”
“The way they said it was a lie. And God, I believed it.” Cynthia’s shoulders crumpled. “It’s my fault. God, it’s all my fault.”
Cal figured he could agree with Cynthia and make things worse, or he could reach deep down and be a man about it all. He went with the latter, coming around the bike to wrap his arms around Cynthia while she shook and cried. Every muscle in his body worked at it — holding Cynthia tight but not too tight, all the while wishing he could strangle Moira. But there was a time and a place for everything, and this was the time to hold his mate.
My love, his wolf whispered again and again.
For the past decade, he’d lived in a cloud of hurt and hate. Holding Cynthia didn’t make the pain go away, but his anger receded, at least for a while. It was a little like when he’d first arrived on Maui – disembarking the plane, feeling all that sunshine. That nice, warm temperature, working its way to his core.
“Cal,” Cynthia whispered, stroking his chest.
The surfers had to have been on their fourth or fifth wave by the time Cynthia stopped crying. But, hell. Cal didn’t care how long it took. He could stand there holding her all day. But then the reason they’d set out hit him, and he stiffened.
“Joey…”
Cynthia wiped her eyes, still sniffling. “Oh God. I’m such a bad mother.”
Cal shook his head. “Don’t you say that. I’ve seen you with him. You’re a great mother, Cynthia. All that cuddling, all those bedtime stories…”
He shut up before she caught onto the fact that he had always been nearby, protecting them both. So near, yet so far.
He cleared his throat gruffly and turned to the bike. “Anyway, you’re right. We ought to get him.”
Cynthia studied him too closely for comfort. But finally, she wiped her face and nodded. “God. I’m a mess.”
He tipped her chin up and flashed a weak smile. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Their eyes locked, and a slideshow of every moment he had ever shared with Cynthia, good and bad, flashed through his mind. And not only that, but images of a future he never thought he would have. Dangerous territory, in other words.
Quickly, before he got all mushy on her — or worse, kissed her, because who knew where that might lead — he slid onto the bike and kicked the engine to life. Then he nodded her onto the back, having had all the talking one lone wolf could handle for a while. Thankfully, Cynthia mounted in one practiced move, and a moment later, they were humming down the highway with her hanging on even more snugly than before.
Just like old times, his wolf whispered, tempting him to hope. To dream. To have his heart broken all over again?
Cal took a deep breath and pretended to concentrate on the road.