Impossible Love: An Unforeseen Destiny Novel Book One (3 page)

“Wow,” Mom says behind me.

“This is like the best of both worlds right here,” I whisper.

Mom did well with picking out our condo. The views from the lanai alone are worth any amount of money. I sigh and then drag myself back inside to start the chores.

As I make my way to the kitchen, I can’t help but smile again. The entire wall is windows, giving way to the ocean scene that has entrapped me. This room is beyond awesome, and I can totally see myself staying here for an extended amount of time. Three weeks will not seem long at all with these views.

“We’ll take a drive to the grocery store and stock up as soon as we get settled,” Mom says. “This area is so nice. I feel like I’m in heaven.”

“This will be the best vacation ever, Mom. Thanks for this.”

“It’s the least I could do.” She blinks her eyes a few times and turns away. “I’m going to unpack my suitcase, and then we’ll take off.”

Chapter
Four

Kai~

The clanking sounds of glass bottles compete with the lead singer’s raspy voice as I take a swig of my beer. My gaze sweeps around the room in search for something or
someone
different. My lips press tight, and I swallow my disappointment. Any other Friday night, the bar would be packed.

“This crowd blows,” Kamp Mahona, my wingman since fourth grade, says. I owe my first girlfriend, Alani, to him. He’s a good friend and has had my back ever since.

“Yeah.” I take another sip and eye a couple of scantily dressed girls walking through the doorway. They pause and glance nervously around the room. “But it just improved.”

Kamp turns to where I’m staring. “Mmm, those haoles’ look lost. Should we navigate them to friendly territory?”

I raise an eyebrow and glance at Kamp. He’ll never stop with those stupid, cheesy pickup lines. Kamp shrugs, and I return to stare at the two blonde-haired chicks that obviously are not islanders. Rick’s is a local’s bar, so when tourists enter, they’re easy to spot. The dark lighting along with the low ceilings and bouncer, Tabby‌—‌the near three-hundred-pound wall of muscle‌—‌gives the place a threatening demeanor. Whenever mainlanders enter, they always have the same vacant stare. These girls are no exception.

My gaze follows the two blondes as they make their way to the opposite end of the bar. I take another drink, but come up dry. I tip the bottle to Laney, tonight’s bartender, and she nods. As soon as Laney brings the beer, those girls are mine. Well, at least, one. Or both. I’ll let them decide.

The corners of my mouth rise slightly, picturing the multiple violations we could get by with.

“Oh, no. I know that look,” Kamp says. “One of those girls is mine.”

Smiling wider, I nod. “I hear you, bro.”

“I’m not kidding. You’re not leaving with both girls again while I go home, alone.” Kamp’s voice may be stern, but the gleam in his eyes betrays him.

“Fine, whatever,” I try to say without laughing. “But the other night, those two girls were already mine. You didn’t stand a chance.”

Kamp chuckles and shakes his head. “Dude, you’re the luckiest son-of-a-bitch I know.”

I smirk at Kamp’s comment even though I’m not exactly proud. Casual sex gets old, but I’m not ready to settle with one girl. Most definitely not. Hell, I’m only twenty-four, and still have plenty of time to worry about that shit.

The noise level drops a few decibels when the band finishes their last song and announces a short break.

Laney plops my beer down in front of me and huffs. “Crowd’s slow tonight. Tips are gonna suck.”

“Is that a hint?”

My smirk grows to a grin as I hand her the money. Laney laughs and winks before walking away. I shake my head and leave extra cash on the bar. Damn vixen. She knows how to work it.

“Come on, bro. Let’s go be Lihue’s personal tour guides.” Kamp runs his hands along his torso. “Let the exploration begin.”

“Dude, seriously? Just‌…‌stop.”

Kamp laughs and slaps my back. “Come on.”

“You’re not leaving yet, are you?” a smooth voice says behind me.

Internally, I cringe. I know that voice well. I know every pitch that voice makes‌—‌especially when it’s moaning underneath me.

“Bethany,” I say.

I sneak a quick glance at the blondes. The girl on the end crosses her legs. Her skirt rides higher, revealing her long, silky-smooth skin. I sigh. Different flavor is not an option tonight. Kamp groans and plops beside me when I turn to face Beth. He never hides his disdain for her, but Beth and I ignore him.

“Nah, we’re not going anywhere.” My gaze drops to the deep V-cut shirt that’s not leaving much to the imagination. Of course, every inch of that body has been seared into memory. “I thought you were staying in?”

I force myself to look at her face and then stop myself from wincing. Her lips are pressed into a tight thin line as she stares past me. She must’ve noticed the girls.

“I can’t let you get into trouble…” Her gaze cuts back to mine. “Now can I?”

Bethany sits at the neighboring barstool. She has no right to say anything about who I pursue. She knows the score. We’re just a hookup. Beth knows there will never be anything serious between us.

“Now what fun would that be?” I run my hand along her thigh, just stopping short of the skirt’s hemline. “Or are we making our
own
trouble?”

Bethany shivers under my touch, and I chuckle which earns a slap on my shoulder.

“Ass,” she says with a laugh.

“I’m going in,” Kamp says. “By myself, apparently.”

I tilt my head to him and nod. Despite his dislike for Bethany, Kamp knows once she shows up; I’m out. He glides over to the two girls, and I force my attention back to Beth.

“So, whatcha’ have in mind?” I ask.

A slow grin crosses her mouth as her eyes darken. “I have a few ideas.”

A low guttural growl escapes, and I rise, grabbing her hand. Full bottle of beer forgotten, I release my hand from hers and place it on her back to guide her toward the door. Yeah, not settling down yet.

I walk past Kamp and shake my head at the girls’ giggles. Those cheesy lines always seem to work somehow. Maybe he’ll get lucky with one or even both tonight. Who knows?

The sea breeze welcomes us as we step outside. Bethany turns toward me and smiles. “Your place or mine?”

I stare at her for a moment. A twinge of guilt seeps into my conscience, and I contemplate going home alone. But this is the arrangement we devised a few years back‌—‌a friends with benefits sort of thing, even though we’re more like acquaintances. We never do anything together except have sex.

Beth raises an eyebrow and gives me a look.

“Yours,” I say.

Chapter
Five

Kayla~

Today’s the day I break out my wicked kayak skills on the Wailua River. Ha. I’ve never been kayaking before, but this goal I’m so accomplishing.

“Mom, today is going to be so incredible,” I say, beelining to the car.

“I knew you were excited to do this, which is one reason I slated it for the first day.” Mom loads our towels, along with her camera, into the back seat of the rental as I jump in the passenger seat, holding our lunch sacks.

“I’m
so
excited for the secret waterfall,” I say, slipping on my sunglasses. The waterfall is only accessible by foot, hence, the reason it’s considered hidden. At some point during the tour, we’ll abandon the kayaks and hike a small trail that leads to the cascading water. I pull out my phone and check the time. A little less than an hour, we’ll be there. “The anticipation is killing me.”

Mom laughs as she gets behind the wheel. She starts the car and backs out. “This day will definitely be amazing.”

The conviction in her voice makes me glance at her. I purse my lips but say nothing. That distant stare to her eyes reappears. The same look she had after we discussed coming here at Thanksgiving. I smile and shake my head.

Mom’s sentimental, always has been. That’s nothing new. But she’s the best. Raising me on her own all these years, I’m amazed at her tenacity.

“I love you, Mom. Thanks for this trip. I needed a break from college.” And that’s the truth. With my schooling coming to an end, well for my major, I’ve been busy. Lining everything up to apply to graduate school, I’ve been beefing up my resume. Although I’m pretty sure I’ll be accepted to Purdue’s Family Nurse Practitioner program, I still want my resume flawless to keep my options open.

“I love you too, sweetie.”

“This whole island is remarkable,” I say as we drive along Highway 56. “Everything is so green.”

And it is. Different shades of green from the varying plants line the highway. I remove my sunglasses and place them in the console to see clearer. I can’t seem to get enough of these colors.

“Yeah,” Mom says, and then sighs. In a faint voice, she adds, “I’ve missed this place.”

My head snaps to the left. “What? You’ve been here before?”

Her gaze flashes to me momentarily before returning to the road. She presses her lips together and shifts in her seat before clearing her throat.

“Um, yeah. A long time ago. I was pretty young. It was one of my early photo assignments.”

I’m not sure why this makes her nervous. What would it matter if her gig brought her to the island? Mom’s always flying to different parts of the country. Her job as a freelance photographer always has her traveling. When the shoots require her to visit the neighboring states, I used to tag along with her, thus developing my passion for nature. Woods, mountains, or prairies, it doesn’t matter where we go, I love it all.

“You’ve never told me this was one of your adventures. So, you should know where to go then.”

“Somewhat‌…‌it’s been a while.” She flashes me a mischievous smile. “I know where all the good spots are, though.”

I don’t respond as we continue along the scenic drive. I turn and stare out the passenger window and enjoy the sights.

A few missed turns later, we arrive at the kayaking tour parking lot. It’s no wonder we kept missing the location. The dilapidated wooden fence surrounding the place hardly screams “open for business.”

Mom pulls forward through the open gate, and I scrunch my face in disgust. The establishment seems like a junky residential home, not a place to conduct business. My stomach plummets as the thought of being scammed crosses my mind. We enter what appears to be the back side of the building. The structure, along with every single house along the street, is built on stilts.
Hmm‌…‌how often does the river reach this area? Or are they concerned about the ocean?

“You think I park over there?” Mom asks, pointing to the flattened, weed-patched area.

I glance at the muddy grass and nod. “Yeah, I suppose. You’d think they’d have gravel down. Or signs.”

Rather small in size, the place isn’t impressive, but then again, how much space does one need to store kayaks and take money? I suppose on an island every square inch counts for something.

“You park over there‌…‌go over there,” a shrill voice calls out.

Mom and I jerk our heads to the screeching sound. A curly-haired lady appears from underneath the house structure, pointing and yelling at the muddy field area. Her wild hair bobs up and down with every hand gesture.

Mom waves at her and pulls the car into the designated spot as the woman returns to a makeshift desk tucked beneath the dwelling. Mom throws the car into park, and we burst into laughter when our gaze connects.

“This is quite the establishment,” Mom says as we exit the car.

“Yes, it’s something all right.”

We both scan the surrounding area, but Mom chews her bottom lip as if she’s nervous. I know kayaking isn’t her thing and she’s only doing this for me, but I didn’t think she’d be this apprehensive. She doesn’t say anything and strolls toward the scary lady. I hang back to enjoy the sun beaming down. The brightness spreads its warmth across my skin, and I feel like a cat soaking up the sun rays. I’m so content; I could almost purr. Who wouldn’t like perfect temperatures of the upper seventies with comfortable humidity? We don’t get this back home. Ever. With elevated temps, the humidity is so high it’s unbearable. I bite back a sigh.
Why can’t I live in a perfect place like this?

Mom grabs the waterproof bag and lunch tote and places them on a picnic table. I stroll over to her and pull out the sandwiches from the plastic sack. A group of people arrives while we repack our lunch into the nylon cooler. I bite my lip, trying to suppress a smile at one particular couple who joins us at the table. Honeymooners. They have to be. They keep gazing into each other’s eyes, and their sickeningly sweet smiles are nauseating. Another couple appears older, probably around Mom’s age. I’m guessing in their forties. Another couple standing off by themselves are probably in their thirties. The group’s diversified, that’s for sure.

I glance at Mom, and she’s scanning the area as if looking for someone. My forehead wrinkles as I stare at her.

“Is someone supposed to be joining us?”

Mom’s gaze cuts to me, and fear crosses her eyes. “No. Who would be here?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “It just seems like you keep searching for someone.”

“No, I’m just taking in the scenery.” Mom hands me a black rubber-like bag and points to the camera. “This is the dry bag. Please make sure the camera stays safe.”

“Believe me, I know. You’ll kill me if this gets ruined.” I chuckle, dropping my concern to focus on her crazy expensive equipment. I place the camera into the bag and pause.

“Only eight today?” the deepest, sexiest voice I’ve ever heard says.

Chills. Literally, chills zing along my skin. Holy cow, please tell me his looks match that sexy-ass voice.
Please
. I slowly turn to find my answer.

It matches.

My breath catches in my throat. A tall, muscular-framed body stands about twenty feet away, and all I can do is stare.

My hands squeeze the rubberized material. I have to stop this urge to embrace him and trace my fingers through the barely visible waves in his short, dark-brown hair. My gaze lowers to his body. The charcoal-gray T-shirt covering his chest accentuates his perfectly tanned skin. He appears flawless, standing there in his khaki, cargo-style shorts. My gaze wanders back up his torso, and I can’t help questioning what he’ll look like without any fabric covering him. I suddenly want his shirt gone so I can‌…‌I can what? I squeeze the bag tighter. I cannot touch him, for chrissake!
What the heck?