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As I rushed from my office to my bedroom to throw the essentials into a bag, I informed my driver we were making an evening trip to the airport. I usually only used him for resort business, but I preferred not to leave my car parked at the airport.
Ten minutes later I was in the back seat, and shortly after that, I arrived at the terminal in time for the flight.
I had exactly eight hours to decide how to sell my idea to Nikau in a way that would get her to agree with me. I doubted very much that she would still be susceptible to well-placed puppy dog eyes after all these years. Not to mention that I had learned other ways of convincing a woman to do my bidding. But I didn't want to be too hasty either, and after all the time we hadn't spoken it might be better to proceed with caution. Treading carefully into the unknown. To find out if she was still crazy enough to keep a promise from ten years ago.
I was still crazy enough, otherwise I would not be on a plane heading for the mainland, venturing into a state whose very location made me completely uncomfortable. No sea nearby. No palm trees. No balmy summer nights. And above all, people who weren't anywhere near as open and friendly as those who lived on the islands.
I loved my home. My origins. Which made it all the more incomprehensible to me that Nikau had decided to leave O'ahu and trade paradise on earth for something that could hardly make her happy.
I hated to admit it, and I would certainly hide it from her, but over the past few years I had kept an eye on what she shared in the online world. Her Instagram account, for example, was designed to convince everyone that she was happy in Cedar Rapids. Of course, I had also stalked the restaurant she worked at and noticed it didn't even compare to the one she had worked at in high school. I knew Nikau. Her dreams. The idea she had had for her life back then. No one changed so drastically in ten years that they would forget all that and happily settle for something much worse than their dreams.
At least that was my hope, because it would make things a lot easier for me. Starting with reminding her of our old agreement.
With my arms crossed, I looked out the small window as the plane climbed higher and higher, and the chain of islands grew smaller and smaller, until I could no longer make out the lights, and everything around us was just a dark night.
Over the past few years I had worked my way up. I had built an empire and found a passion that kept me busy and interested. I was used to getting what I wanted. At least when it came to business. Today, however, Nancy had demonstrated just how badly that worked in other areas.
A lovely woman. But not much more than an accessory. A decorative element to be taken out to make an impression on others. Or a woman to spend time with if you liked to surround yourself with "yes" and "amen" people who had no opinions and would let you do whatever other people wanted.
None of this appealed to me. But the idea of a ten-year-old deal and a woman I hadn't seen for almost as long did.
Whatever fucked-up part of my brain was at fault, I hoped it was also aware that nothing was going to be the way it had imagined.
Because after everything I thought I knew about Nikau, I was damn sure nothing was going to be as easy as I wanted it to be.
Nikau
Blinking, I forced my eyes open, only to find it was the rain that had woken me up. A cool breeze blew through my bedroom as thick raindrops pelted the thin window pane. Iowa was terrible. It was not the first time I had noticed this in recent years. On O'ahu, I used to love the rain, especially when it was accompanied by a balmy summer thunderstorm. When lightning struck on the sand or over the water. Those were natural spectacles to watch. It made you feel good. In Iowa, though, I couldn't appreciate a rainstorm because the end result always seemed to be the same: you got wet. And it made you feel like crap.
I wrinkled my nose and looked out the window. Most of the sky was still dark grey, which probably meant I hadn't been asleep long. So without further ado I grabbed my phone, which only confirmed that assumption, and thundered it back onto the bedside table, burying myself deeper into my bed. I pulled the blanket up to my chin, wrapped myself in the cozy warmth and closed my eyes again. Even though I wasn't outside and not a single drop of rain had fallen on me, I still felt like crap. And it wasn't because of the few hours I'd slept.
Just as I was about to command my mind to rest to spend a few more hours in the world of dreams, I heard the sound that must have woken me up in the first place. A loud knock. On my bloody front door. In the dead of night.
I didn't even move. I had seen enough movies about serial killers to know this was the perfect setup. And I wasn't stupid. I wouldn't willingly surrender to Chucky, Ted or whatever the idiot's name was. No. Not ever.
But there was no lessening of the knocking, quite the opposite, it became more insistent. More desperate. It was still pouring outside, and the area outside my front door was not covered. Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed, wrapped the blanket around my body so not to give the nocturnal visitor any false hope– shorts and a top were soinviting, if the media were to be believed– and trudged down the hallway toward the front door. Once again, someone banged on it with their fists, which by now made me feel a little angry.
As I approached the front door, a growl rose in my throat. But instead of doing the idiotic thing and just yanking the door open, I pushed back the curtain that covered the glass next to the door and stared out. For a few seconds. Because my brain was incapable of processing what my eyes were seeing. Not a serial killer. Far from it.
Standing outside my front door, in the pouring rain, was none other than Kaden Haoa, who in recent years had become the owner of a luxury resort worth millions– on the island where we had grown up. And he stared at me as if I had lost my mind. Me, of all people!
He raised a hand in question. In the other he held a small box and a damned travel bag. What the hell was going on?
Nervousness washed over me, and it felt like hundreds of little bugs were crawling up my legs, only to settle in my stomach. Nevertheless, I reached for the door and yanked it open, panting a little.
"What are you doing here?" I shouted over the roar of thunder. The storm seemed to be hovering directly over our heads.
Kaden smiled wryly, small laugh lines forming around his eyes. Then he wiggled the box as if to tell me the reason for his unannounced visit. Years after we had last seen each other.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked instead of answering. Thick raindrops were running down his face. His hair was wet. His clothes had also turned dark and clung tightly to his body, leaving little to my imagination. I cleared my throat, remembered my good manners and stepped aside to let him in.
Kaden came in– only to immediately fill the house with his presence. He dropped the bag next to the door, closed it with a well-aimed kick and stood in front of me, soaking wet and dripping, still with that wry grin on his face.
He had hardly changed. Or he had. He had changed. He had grown up. The proportions of his body fit him better. He no longer looked like an awkward giant, but like someone who was comfortable in his own body, and who knew exactly what effect he had on the opposite sex. Kaden didn't fit into this town. Hawaii was written across his forehead. He carried the sun in him, even though there was another of these storms here that made it clear how far away from home we really were.
"Aren't you going to say anything, Nika?" he finally asked, amused, while I was still busy looking at him and absorbing his presence.
He looked so outrageously handsome, dripping wet, that I was almost ashamed to be in the same room.
