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CHAPTER NINE
A loud blast shocked Harper out of her book coma, and she sat up, looking around.
What the fuck?
She heard a couple on the beach nearby talking about a hurricane approaching the islands. They were looking at their phones.
Oh.
She flopped back on the sand and lifted her book back into position. There were hurricanes in Hawaii every sixty seconds.
Not literally.
Granted, it was very windy today, and the beach was quiet, but there were still people swimming and sunbathing.
Harper let her mind dissolve away as she headed back to her vampire novel and all its sexiness. The hero was about to realize the girl was his fated mate. It was a steamy, big romantic moment.
Twenty minutes later, she was finding it hard to hold the pages and finally admitted defeat. She noticed people had begun to frantically pack up and began to put her own belongings in her beach bag.
Maybe this was more serious than she realized?
“Excuse me, ma’am, you need to return to your hotel,” a surf lifeguard advised her. “Category five.”
He continued on his way to the next group on the beach as Harper looked down at her phone and saw the emergency messages from the state of Hawaii.
Crap.
Just her damn luck.
The wind whipped around her and the farther up from the beach she got, the worse it felt. Glancing up, she saw the clouds were darkening, despite the still warm temperature, and felt fine raindrops on her arms.
Harper picked up speed and stood, tapping her feet as she waited to cross the street.
On each corner in Waikiki there were ABC stores which sold every kind of convenience you could imagine, from clothes, gifts, alcohol, snacks, fruit, water, to suntan oil, and so on.
Harper headed toward the closest one and found it packed with people stocking up on supplies. She pushed her way through and found a lot of bare shelves, so she began throwing things into a basket.
She hated panic shopping, but her father had told her many times that islands like Hawaii were only stocked with seven days’ worth of food. If ships and planes couldn’t access them for any reason, food would quickly run out.
Well, except pineapples and macadamia nuts. Both of which grew in abundance on the islands.
Harper grabbed a bottle of vodka, potato chips, as many bottles of water as she could carry, and chocolate.
“Mahalo,” she said, thanking the server and lifted the heavy bags. As soon as she stepped outside, the wind blasted her, and for the first time in her life, Harper wondered if she could be blown off her feet by nature.
It was impossible to run with all her bags, so she walked fast, keeping her head down, and finally arrived back at the hotel. Except the doors were locked.
“Shit.”
“This way, ma’am,” a man called farther down the drive as he came running out of a side door. He took a couple of her bags and helped her inside.
Harper dropped her things to the floor as the door closed behind her and let out a sigh. She wiped her wet hair off her face.
Outside, the storm continued to roar while Dufort staff raced around, clearly preparing for the hours ahead of them.
“Mahalo,” she said, thanking the man.
He led her farther into the hotel and dropped her bags onto one of the guest sofas in the lobby.
