Heat Wave (18 page)

Even so, the whole ride back to Moonwater I can’t help think about what Kate was getting at. As much as I like to pretend that my feelings for Logan are mild and easily squashed, a crush more than anything, the fact that she’s picking up on something says a lot. And it says even more that it’s coming from his side. If he were anyone else to me, I would be grilling her on everything about him, wanting every last detail: how does he look at me? What do you think it means? Has he said anything?

But he’s Logan. And that’s that. Anything else would be morally wrong.

Anything else would have consequences.

So I bury it.

Forget it.

And try to move on.

The days leading up to the luau crawled by. I didn’t see Logan much, which is both a good and a bad thing, other than him checking up on me as soon as I got back from the hospital. But even though he kept to himself, he passed down orders to Johnny and Charlie to not let me work. I protested, of course, and kept showing up at the start of my shift anyway. And they kept pushing me out of the kitchen—gently, I might add—telling me I needed to heal.

To be honest, I was kind of grateful for it. My body really did hurt from the accident and my mind was having a hard time slipping back into reality. But it wasn’t the trauma of nearly being swept away that had my brain all up in knots, it was what happened with Logan.

What could have happened. Kate told me to open my eyes, and now I was looking back on everything, dissecting every word, every touch, every gaze. Could Logan have feelings for me in the ways I never let myself imagine? How different are our interactions now compared to that moment we first met?

And like clockwork I would remind myself that nothing good could come of this. And in turn it made me want to think about him even more.

Tonight, though, it’s the luau. I finally got back to work yesterday and spent the whole day with Johnny and Charlie preparing the feast. We’ve got eleven guests signed up, way smaller than your average luau, but at least it’s something we can handle. All the side dishes are ready to go with only some reheating at the time of the feast, and of course there’s the whole kalua pig that we’re going to cook underground.

That’s all Johnny’s job. I’m watching and learning but he’s the pro here. My contribution was making traditional poi, which is basically mashed up taro root until it has a pudding consistency. I wanted so badly to sweeten the goop up, even with something like agave syrup, but Johnny chastised me for the thought. The purple white goop must be eaten as it—bland and tasteless.

There’s an electricity crackling in the air tonight, and it’s not just the dark clouds that have gathered at the Na Pali Coast, burying the sunset and reducing it to streams of orange and red. All of us are helping out and a few of our on-call waitresses are on duty.

The grassy area beside the restaurant has been transformed into a tiki-styled paradise, with lit torches around the tables. There’s even a small band and a hula dancer.

Johnny, Charlie and I dish out the food, Big J cutting into the roasted pig with a pride I’d never seen before, and Daniel’s special Mai Tai punch starts making the rounds. The live music starts, giving us a moment to relax in the background, the three of us taking a seat at a small fold-out table behind the food as we watch.

It’s pretty magical. Not just because it’s my first luau, but because I finally feel at home. Daniel comes by and gives me a glass of the punch as the band plays a quiet number (oh who am I kidding, they’re all quiet numbers) and the hula dancer sways to the music. One of the members reads out the interpretation of the dance and I’m lost in the girl’s movement and grace.

“Do you know what the band is called?” Charlie whispers in my ear. “Three men and a Ukulele.” He pauses. “Wait, you’re old enough to remember that Tom Selleck film, right?”

I laugh. “Are you?”

“I thought it was Ted Danson,” Johnny says as Daniel hands him his glass. “Hey Danny Boy, you ever watch Cheers? Did Sam Malone make you want to be a bartender?”

“Are you kidding me?” Daniel says, thumbing the collar of his ever-present Hawaiian shirt, “I’m the tropical version of him.”

“Pretty sure the tropical version of Sam Malone is Tom Cruise in Cocktail,” Charlie says, taking a sip of the drink. He coughs, his face going red. “Jesus, Dan. What the hell did you put in here?”

Dan shrugs. “Figured the drunker the guests got, the more they’d think the night was a success. You know, in case things went to shit.” He looks over his shoulder at one of the tables where Logan is standing, glass in hand, and talking to the guests. “And I may have given Logan an extra lethal dose or two. Figured the
habut
could loosen up a bit.”

Charlie and Johnny burst out into gleeful laughter, like wicked schoolchildren, while my eyes are still focused solely on Logan.

He looks nothing short of amazing, actually. I wish I could say otherwise, but at this point I’m starting to realize that he could wear a potato sack and look as hot as fuck. And hell, I’m imagining that potato sack right now, the way it would show off his muscular thighs, and I’m practically squirming in my seat.

Fuck it. I’m owning this feeling. I have an even bigger sip of my drink, enjoying the fruity burn as it goes down, and commit myself to not giving a shit tonight. For once I just want to feel everything but the shame.

Logan isn’t wearing a potato sack of course, but a white short-sleeved shirt that’s unbuttoned enough to show a hint of his chest, and knee-length black shorts. His hair is pushed off his forehead, his beard trimmed, his skin a golden tan. I should be looking anywhere else, but I can’t tear my eyes off of him.

He looks up, his gaze meeting mine for the first time tonight. I can only stare right back as seconds pass between us, the connection a livewire, palpable. Even with the distance and the people between us, his eyes seem to crackle and flame like the torches in the background.

“
Aloha kaua
,” Johnny says, his voice making me jump.

I tear my eyes off of Logan and glance at Johnny. “Huh?” I quickly sneak a peek at Logan again but now his back is turned to me. I can still feel his gaze, like it’s branded me on the inside.

“
Aloha kaua
is Hawaiian,” Johnny says as he leans into me. His dark eyes are glossy, his cheeks pink. I think the punch is hitting him hard too. “It means how are we?”

“How are we?”

“Yes. Instead of checking up on just you, it means how are we, how is our relationship. It’s about strengthening the connection from people.”

“Oh.” I raise my drink to him. “Well I think we, as you and I, are doing just fine tonight.”

He raises his drink and clinks it against mine. “I have to agree. And how are you and everyone else?”

I shrug. “No complaints at the compound.”

Johnny takes a gulp of his drink and coughs. “I just wanted to check in. Everyone really likes you, you know. We don’t want you to leave. You are
ohana
now.”

I look at him in surprise, my heart rattling in my chest. Why would he even ask this? The thought is unbearable. “Why would I leave?”

“Because sometimes people move to Hawaii thinking it’s all going to be one way and it turns out to be another. Island life isn’t for everyone. Island fever is a real thing. You’ve been here a month, that’s past the vacation period. Usually around this time, people decide if the spirit of aloha is really for them.”

I laugh. “Well I’m not even at my probation period,” I remind him. “I’m sure Logan would love it if I left before three months but I’m not giving him that satisfaction.”

“Are you kidding me? The
habut
will never let you go.”

That phrase alone feels like a warm bath.

“I don’t know about that…”

“Little
wahine
,” Johnny says with a big smile. “You’re one of the best we’ve had. That dish you added to the menu, the kimchi calzone, is a hit. Logan knows your worth as much as the rest of us. And…”

“And what?” I ask, twisting around to face him better.

“I think you’re good for him. Even if he might not know it himself.”

I let out an awkward snort. “Yeah right.”

“Nah, I mean it, aye.” He nudges me with his elbow and nods his head at Logan who is drinking and talking to Daniel over by the pig. “I know he’s a grump but he’s better. He’s been better ever since you showed up. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

“There’s plenty of fresh air here,” I mumble. “We live in fucking paradise.” And the minute I say that, a warm breeze floats past, smelling of one of my favorite flowers, plumeria. I have the urge to go gather a bunch and put them all over my hair.

“And yet he hasn’t been able to appreciate it. His heart is broken and it was making him sick. They have a saying in Hawaiian you know…”

“Another one?”

“We have many. This one is
pono
. Which is making right your wrongs and practicing forgiveness. Once an apology has been made, it becomes your responsibility to forgive. If a grudge is held instead, it becomes
kaumaha
, a burden, and it will make you ill at heart.”

I swallow hard, staring at Logan again. “I don’t see what that has to with Logan.”

“Sometimes you can wrong yourself. Sometimes you don’t honor your own truth. Sometimes you forgive but the person isn’t alive anymore to accept it.”

I stare at Johnny for a few moments, weighing my words before I say them. “I don’t think you really know the real Logan.”

“Do you?” he counters. His eyes are glittering, trying to tell me something but I can’t quite figure it out.

“No I suppose I don’t,” I concede, wanting to drop the subject now.

Johnny just nods. “It’s a magical night. Breathe it in. Appreciate it. See people in a new light. The torches illuminate so much more than the surface. A luau is about thanks and celebration of family. Give thanks for being here. Celebrate your
ohana
. Your family.” He pauses. “And remember Shephard is your family too. Not just because of Juliet.” He finishes the rest of his drink. “More punch?”

“Yes please,” I tell him, handing him my cup. As Johnny goes off, I look around for Charlie, wondering where he’s gone. I spot him in the parking lot talking to to Kate about something heated. Kate’s throwing up her arms like he’s said something that’s gotten under her skin, which is a rarity, and Charlie is rolling his eyes.

I don’t mean to spy, though I do mean to grill Kate when we head back to the unit later.

Eventually Johnny comes back with more punch and we have a few more cups until it’s time to serve dessert. Despite all of us feeling tipsy, and now Charlie and Kate having totally disappeared, we manage to get out the buffet of mango and rice pudding, lilikoi cheesecake, and coconut pie.

As the night wears on, everyone is drunk and happy, guests included. Dan was right about making that punch extra potent. Johnny, Dan, Jin, and Logan put everything away after the guests leave, so the girls can relax. I have a few more drinks with Nikki and our Saturday waitress, Lucia, sprawled out on the coarse, spongey grass, tiki torches wavering in the breeze. Above us the sky is dark and open, the stars a dusting of sparkling sugar.

“Where is Kate?” I ask, rattling the ice in my cup.

Nikki laughs, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Do you see Charlie?” Lucia asks wryly. “No. Put two and two together.”

“In other words, don’t head back to your apartment so soon,” Nikki says with a smirk.

“Figures,” I mutter. Fighting leads to fucking. Well, for everyone but me.

“Hey, can I ask you guys a question,” I ask after a few minutes, my voice low as Daniel takes in some of the chairs back to the restaurant.

“Sure, what?” Nikki asks.

“After my sister died…was there ever anyone else? I mean, with Logan?”

Nikki and Lucia exchange a furtive glance.

“What?” I ask because that glance sure as hell meant something. “One of you?”

“No, no,” Nikki quickly exclaims. “Not us. Nothing like that anyway.”

“What do you mean?”