Lachlan
“What do you keep looking at?”Nikko asked from beside me as we sat at the outdoor bar at The Shack.
I snapped my eyes back to the TV screens overhead, none of them tuned to anything baseball related…as a matter of point. Then again, both basketball and hockey were in the final rounds of their playoffs. Only die-hard fans really cared about baseball right now.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing, bruh,” Kingston, one of Nikko’s younger brothers, said from behind the bar, polishing some of the wine glasses. It wasn’t a busy night, at least compared to how hectic this place got on weekends, when there was usually a line around the corner to get in. But with it being close to nine o’clock on a Sunday night, there was only a handful of people still dining.
“You’ve been looking at that wahine since you got here.” Aiden, yet another one of Nikko’s younger brothers, gently shoved my shoulder from the stool beside me. He sipped his beer, still dressed in the all-black attire their mum insisted they wear when waiting tables.
The entire family worked at the restaurant, despite many of them exploring outside opportunities. It wasn’t about money. It was about ohana. Here, family helped each other, no matter what.
Aiden was responsible for cooking the pork every morning. Kingston was the bartender extraordinaire, while Isiah and Nikko did whatever their mother needed, from washing dishes, to jumping on the line, to working as host, to waiting tables. Their youngest sister, Trystan, worked beside her mother in the kitchen, learning all the recipes that had made this place a staple among locals for decades.
Which was why I was stunned when I walked in and saw the same woman who I helped with a jellyfish sting this morning having dinner with another woman I didn’t recognize. We normally didn’t get many tourists this far away from Waikiki. At least not once the sun went down.
Then again, I did run into her on the beach less than a mile up the shore this morning. I’d assumed she drove out this way from one of the larger resorts in search of a quieter, less populated piece of shoreline. But maybe she was actually staying at a rental around here instead of near Honolulu.
Why did my pulse kick up over the prospect?
Why did I care?
It didn’t matter.
At least that was what I’d tried to convince myself, even though I hadn’t been able to stop staring at her since I got here. I’d fought to ignore the pull, but for some reason, my eyes kept finding their way back to her.
“Who is she?” Nikko asked.
I shrugged dismissively, bringing my beer to my lips. “No one.”
“Then you wouldn’t care that she just looked over this way, would you?” Isiah asked sarcastically.
Every muscle in my body instantly tightened, warmth flooding my veins.
Why? What was it about this woman in particular that was different? I didn’t even know her name. Had a million things on my mind. Yet in the quiet moments of my day, I found myself thinking about her. Her smile. Her soft skin. Her nervous laughter as she attempted to make conversation with me, an effort I rebuked to the point of probably coming off like a prick.
“Ah… So she is someone,” Isiah teased, obviously noticing my reaction.
“She probably just recognizes me is all,” I responded flippantly, keeping my gaze trained forward. But, damn, it was a test in my resolve to not glance at her.
“Really?” Kingston shot back. “So if I bring her over here and offer to take a photo of you two for her to post on social media so she can brag that she just met the Lachlan Hale, she’ll know exactly who I’m talking about?”
“Are you suggesting she wouldn’t be interested in baseball simply because she’s female?” I smirked. “A little sexist, if you ask me. What do you think Eme would have to say about that? Should I go ask her?”
I started to get up, pausing when Kingston’s dark eyes bulged at the notion of his mother learning he’d made any statement that could be considered sexist. She’d raised all her sons to treat women with the utmost respect. Even as adults, she’d always be their mother.
And would always put the fear of God into them if they acted in a way she didn’t approve of. That didn’t go away with age. Not in a family as tightknit as the Kekoas.
“I’m not suggesting that at all,” Kingston insisted, placing his hand on my shoulder and pushing me back onto the stool.
“But she doesn’t have that starry-eyed look we normally see in your fans,” Nikko observed, always the detective.
“What do you mean?”
I shifted toward him, if for no other reason than to steal a better glance at the woman out of the corner of my eye. And, of course, Nikko noticed precisely what I was doing, a sly smile tugging on his lips.
“There are no giggles or nervous excitement as she whispers to her friend,” he responded. “She’s…calm. I could be wrong, but I don’t think she knows who you are.” He leaned toward me. “And I think that’s why you don’t want to tell us how you know her.”