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“Advil,” I said. “And food. You need to eat.”

“You don’t have to. It’s too late and—”

But I was already at the door. Getting her some aspirin was a no-brainer, but moreover, an internal call siren had gone off in me. The same alarm that had gone off when Kal said the photography business was struggling. The same alarm—on a lower key—that had gone off all those years ago when the trailer burned to the ground and Morgan’s safety became my entire fucking world. The only thing that would shut it off, was to answer it.

“I’ll be right back.”

I drove to the nearest drug store and stocked up on Ace bandages and Advil. Most restaurants were closed in Kapa’a, but I was able to grab two orders of fries with wasabi and soy sauce from my favorite food truck before they shut down for the night.

Back at Faith’s, I knocked once, then strode to the kitchen.

“That was fast, Mario Andretti,” Faith said with a weak smile.

I poured her a glass of water and brought her three Advil.

“Your mother raised a gentleman,” she said and gratefully took the pills, missing my grimace.

My mother raised no one.

“You should’ve told me you didn’t have anything earlier,” I said darkly. “Or told Paula.”

Faith shot me another of her wry, flirty looks, already improved by imminent pain relief. “I was too busy being happy to have the mud off me. Besides, the whole point of coming here was to not need a man for once in my life. I didn’t even make it one day.”

“Shit happens,” I muttered, remembering how I’d given her grief back at the Falls. I took two containers out of the food bag. “You need to eat.”

“Now that you mention it, what is that heavenly smell?”

“Food truck fries.”

“That sounds…interesting,” she said dubiously.

“Don’t knock it till you try it. Hurricane Fries are the best…unless you don’t like spicy.”

“Me? Ilovespicy.”

Of course, she does.

I set up the food on her coffee table. Faith took a forkful of fries dripping with soy sauce and drizzled with wasabi and then moaned in a way that should be illegal.

I coughed. “Good, right?”

“That’s amazing.” She took another bite. “Island specialty? And to think I would have missed it.”

She didn’t mean anything by it, but knowing Kauai like I did, everything else she was going to miss came at me in a neat, orderly list. I busied myself with my food and when we were finished, I served up the pie.

“That did not come from the food truck,” Faith said.

“My sister-in-law makes the best key lime,” I said, cutting two slices. “This is from her for you.”

“You told her about me?”

Shit.

“I have dinner with my brother’s family a few nights a week. Sometimes I tell them about my calls.” I shot Faith my own arch look. “It’s not every day we chopper a tourist out of Ho’opi’i.”

She smirked. “I find that hard to believe.” I returned to the couch with the pie and Faith forked a mouthful. “This is homemade? Tell your sister-in-law I love her.”

“Her name is Nalani, and she had some thoughts about your vacation,” I admitted. “So did Paula.”

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