Somewhere on Maui (an Accidental Matchmaker Novel) (21 page)

Adam pushed his sweaty hair off his brow. He and his sisters were cleaning out his mother’s things from his house. They’d picked a day and made each other accountable to do it together. He’d elected to deal with the closet, as the mere sight of their mother’s clothes had sent both of his sisters into a fit of crying.

He heard Charl
in the kitchen, sorting through a lot of the old crockery and extra kitchen items Kalia Rodrigues had never found the time to part with. Mele was in the laundry room sorting all the sheets and bedding, her new baby tied across her breast in a sling and tears watering his tender little head.

He scooped an armload of muumuus off the rack
, leaving them on the hangers. Even the energy to take them off felt like too much for him right now, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d need all those wire hangers from the 1960s for.

Kalia
’s will had been simple: After a list of items she was giving away specifically, the remaining assets of hers and Earl’s life were to be divided equally among the three children. After discussion, Adam had agreed to buy his sisters out of their share of the family home with monthly payments since Charl and Mele already owned homes they were happy in.

Adam had already taken over Rodrigues Building Company some years ago in a buyout with a business lo
an, so that was taken care of—but in the meantime, he was loaded with debt and obligations.

As usual.

Even in the midst of this difficult chore, Adam’s thoughts circled back to the message he’d left on Zoe’s phone. He slid his phone out of his pocket and checked it again—nothing. She hadn’t called him back.

He steeled himself. He was just going to have to try a little harder to win her back. If her sense of loss was anything like his, he’d wounded her deeply and it was going to take more
than one message to pull her back to him. He remembered holding the end of that gold silk tie, giving it a tug and the robe falling open to reveal her beautiful body—but more than that, he loved how she’d come right back and settled on his lap, fitting perfectly. The vulnerability on her face still glowed in his memory as she’d asked him, “Is this really happening?”

Yes. He was going to have to prove to her
it was real.

Adam gazed down at the bottom of the closet.
There was something so personal about shoes. He bent and picked up his mother’s shoes, letting the tears well up as he loaded the box for the Goodwill with the modest collection she’d reserved for church—ballet-style flats, most of them, and a pair of orthopedic-soled sandals. He knew his sisters wouldn’t even want to see the shoes, let alone consider keeping any.

Adam moved on to empty the dresser, a fine koa piece made in the 1950s that Charl had claimed, while Mele had gone for the sturdy koa dining room table, site of so many lively Rodrigues family dinners. Looking away and holding his breath against the scent of his mother that rose ever so faintly, Adam scooped his mother’s clothes in quick armloads out of the drawers into the Goodwill box. Like tearing off a Band-Aid, he told himself, blinking through the tears. Better him than his sisters, who were still taking it very hard. Adam knew the loss would be easier without his mother’s things around him, constantly reminding him she was gone.

Fixing his lunches in the morning as he headed out to his new job
site, a three-house mini subdivision, was still one of the hardest daily tasks he faced. He’d taken to buying his lunch in Wailuku, where the build was located, instead.

Thinking of Zoe, of what he needed to call and tell her next, gave him a surge of energy to finish the packing
. He had a true peace doing it. He’d had words from his mother in that therapy session, as real as if she’d spoken them when alive.

The
grief, while still cycling through him in waves of bittersweet nostalgia, was manageable.

He
carried the boxes to the back of Charlotte’s truck and loaded them in. His sisters were in the kitchen, more boxes all around them on the floor.

“
We’re taking these.” Charlotte pointed to three boxes. Her eyes were puffy, but she seemed more composed than when they’d begun. “The others are going to Goodwill.”

“
Okay. Any other furniture you guys want?” Adam sat down with a beer from the fridge.

“
No. Don’t have room for anything else.” Mele was nursing baby Earl, a sight Adam was having a little difficulty getting used to. Mele seemed to have stepped into her motherhood with real confidence, and something about having the baby was helping her deal with the loss of their parents in a new way.

“
I think Ben and I would like Mama and Papa’s bed.” Charl gazed at him over her glass of iced tea. “Unless you’d like to keep it?”

“
No. Please no. I’m hoping to start seeing someone, and that would be the wrong place to get anything started.” The idea of getting Zoe into his parents’ bed made him blush.

“
Bro, really?” Mele glanced up from the baby with the first smile he’d seen from her all day. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“
I’m afraid to say. It’s too soon,” Adam muttered into his beer bottle.

“
I know who it is. We’ve met her,” Charl said, with one of those intuitive leaps about him she’d always been able to make. “Remember the girl in the emergency room with the little dog?”

“
Oh, she was so sweet,” Mele exclaimed. “Go for it, Adam!”

“
I’m trying. We’ll see if she’ll have me. We kind of—got off to a rough start on a number of levels. I was with her the day Mama died.”

“
Oh my God,” Charl breathed. “I was so upset you weren’t there, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Adam, you know that, right? I mean, Mama fell asleep right after you left, and she just never woke up.”

“
I know that now. But I felt so guilty that I haven’t called Zoe, and I think she thought I dumped her. So I have to make up for lost time.”

“Get going, bro. You don’t want to let that one get away,” Mele said. “She was so great with the kids in the emergency room.”

“We better get going too.” Charl glanced at her watch. “It’s dinnertime already, and you have some romancing to do.”

His sisters embraced him as they left, and he realized, watching Charl drive the truck loaded with his mother
’s clothes and knickknacks away, that having his sisters’ approval mattered more than he’d known.

Zoe stretched and yawned
as she woke the next morning. Sylvester was hopping and whining to go out beside her bed. As she walked to the door to let him out, she saw her phone blinking with a voice message. Adam had called again the evening before, and she listened to a second message.

“I
’m going to keep calling and telling you something I should have told you the day we were together. Here’s what I should have said that day: I love your eyes. They remind me of everything green and growing, and I love the way they change color with what you’re feeling. They were light green just before I got that phone call from my sister. I wish I’d taken you with me and never let you leave my side.” 

Zoe smiled, listened to the message
again as she made coffee. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet, though. The fear, that fear that had come to her when he got up from bed that first time, swamped her. This feeling was too much, too intense.

It was too big.

It was damn scary.

She could acknowledge that she
’d gotten his messages, though. Show some tiny sign of encouragement—because she wanted more. Scary as it was, she wanted to hear his voice, that uniquely local Hawaii flavor in the way he said something beautiful to her, the hoarse note of honesty that somehow always went straight to her gut—the
na`au
.

In Hawaiian culture, the seat of emotion was considered
the
na`au
, she’d learned in her research, and Adam didn’t hide anything from her. Never had, probably never would—and if he hurt her, it would be because he couldn’t help it.

Zoe pulled up his number and sent him a text message—just a smiley face.
She set the phone back down and walked away from it, fixing coffee and changing into her exercise clothes. She left it in the cottage to keep from glancing at it, and when she took Sylvester to the beach, they walked for miles until her nerves unwound and she was back in her body and her life.

She might care about Adam
—maybe too much for her own good—and they might work things out. But she was her own woman and would take care of herself, and with or without him, she was able to be happy. She’d come a long way from the woman who’d gotten off the plane from California a little more than six months ago.

Sylvester began barking hysterically as she pulled up to her cottage on
their return, and she saw why: A giant wooden box of bumpy red lychee fruit sat on her top step. She got out of the Beetle, smiling, and took a postcard out from where it was protruding from under the box.

Let me take you to dinner at Mama
’s Fish House to make up for being a jerk. I’ve already got reservations at seven tonight and I’ll pick you up. Text a smiley face to me if it’s yes, a sad face if no. Hoping you’ll say yes. Adam.

She unlocked the door, nudging Sylvester inside with her foot as she hefted the full box into the cottage. “Guess we’ve got a few decisions to make, Sylvester. And a lot of lychees to eat.”

Adam pulled up at the door of Zoe’s little cottage that evening, and she walked out onto the step, prompt as always. She didn’t play coy games, and he liked that. She was wearing the backless halter dress she’d worn on their first meeting, with the turquoise fringed shawl he’d never forget. Her hair was a tapestry of brown-blond ripples touching her waist, and her face calm and very serious. He got out of the truck and gave her a gentlemanly A-frame hug, his heart hammering.

“I’ve missed you so much.”
It wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

“
I’ve missed you too,” she whispered. Sylvester gave a questioning bark, and Adam bent down to pet the little dog, composing himself. When he stood and she’d closed Sylvester back in the cottage, he said what he’d meant to say.

“
Thanks for giving me another chance.”

“
I couldn’t help myself.” Her voice was still low, and she finally glanced at him. Her eyes were the green of moss in forested shadow. “Thanks for the lychees.”

“I hope you can do something with them
.” Adam took her hand, trying not to show how his whole body hummed with sensual awareness at just that small contact. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her into the cottage and jump on her like a caveman—the need to be with her was almost overwhelming. Instead, he led her around to the passenger side, opened the truck’s door and handed her in.

“I vacuumed the truck out,” he
said with a grin. “My sisters would tell you that means I must have it bad.”

Zoe
just ducked her head shyly. He tried not to stare at her shapely legs as she tucked her dress around them, stretching out her feet in strappy heels. He shut the door and went around to his side of the vehicle.

Zoe twisted her hands in the fringe of the shawl, making sure it was up over her shoulders as the hostess sat them at a perfectly situated
table looking out the open window at the lawn, tiki torches, and moon on the ocean—the famous view from Mama’s Fish House, widely known as the best fine dining on Maui.

“
This is wonderful,” she breathed, glancing around at the lush sprays of orchids hanging from the ceiling, the carved statues and Hawaii-themed furniture.

“
Wait until you taste something. Anything.” Adam opened his menu. He’d already placed the drink order for a couple of mai tais.

She let herself
gaze at him as he perused the menu. His hair was curling and shiny black where it touched his collar. Long eyelashes hid those bronze-brown eyes, but she enjoyed the width of his shoulders, the way his capable-looking hands held the menu. The place where they’d touched her back ever so lightly as he guided her to the table still glowed from the contact.

“
I kind of thought this place was a bunch of hype,” Zoe said.

“
Some hype is there for a reason.” Adam was greeted by a couple of different staff people, whom he introduced as “surf buddies of mine from Hookipa,” and she liked the proud way he said “my special friend Zoe” as if he wanted to call her something more, but didn’t yet dare.

The dinner progres
sed, a series of delicious and exquisitely presented tastes of Hawaii. They made small talk, about building in Hawaii, the article she was writing on lychee.

Finally, she asked, “Are you okay? About
your mom?”

“I think so.” He gazed at her, his eyes the color of honey in the candlelight. “I had an epiphany. She wanted me to be happy.”

Zoe felt tears well, and they were matched in his eyes. She stared out at the moonlit ocean to get her composure back and cleared her throat. He reached across the table, taking her hand. She still didn’t look at him, afraid of the depths there. Feeling the warm strength of his hand steadied her. “And the kids? What’s happening with that?”

“
It’s all in the works.” He explained what was going on with his custody case, and eventually she was able to glance back at his face, acutely aware of the tiny circles his finger drew in the palm of her hand, on the thin skin of her wrist.

Zoe
could hardly concentrate on their stilted conversation or the food—she was too sensitized to the shape of his lips, the curl of his ear, the powerful line of his back in the silky brown aloha shirt, the vibration of his voice.

Finally, dinner was
over, and they stood up. This time when he walked her out, he placed his hand, fingers spread, on her bare back.

Zoe
gasped, hoping he didn’t hear it, or see her cheeks flame in the dim restaurant as hunger flushed through her body, tightening her nipples and loosening her knees. Somehow she made her legs work to carry her out of the restaurant. She paused below a coconut tree on the strip of grass fronting the restaurant.

“
Can we walk on the beach a little?” Zoe wanted to delay that moment when she had to decide outside her cottage whether or not to invite him in. The mere thought made her hands tremble as she bent down to untie the thin leather thongs that wrapped her ankles. Peeking up through the fall of her hair, she saw him staring at her bottom, and his eyes were glassy.

Good. She wasn
’t the only one suffering from the worst case of lust she ever remembered.

That gave her a little confidence boost, and she let the shawl slide off her shoulders as she to
ed out of her sandals and he took off his shoes. Carrying them and holding hands, they walked across the smooth grass of the lawn to the sand.

Immaculately groomed, the tiny beach
gleamed under the hammered silver light of the moon. Silhouetted palms swayed above them, filaments of cloud flying by high in the night sky. Waves purled along the smudge of reef lit by a glittering moon path over the ocean. Zoe anchored herself in the moment through the tactile sensation of chill sand on her bare feet.

They walked down the small beach until they reached the huge black boulders at the end. Glancing back, the lights of the restaurant and the tiki torches were comfortingly near but far enough away that the two of them were shrouded in darkness.

Adam gave her hand a tug to pull her against him. “Come here.”

She fitted perfectly into the notch between his slightly spread legs as he leaned against a massive boulder. She was surprised he didn’t try to kiss her, just held her against him, one hand stroking her back, the other playing with her hair. She could feel the hard ridge of him against her thigh, but he didn’t do anything except gentle her against him until she relaxed and lowered her head to rest in the notch between his neck and shoulder.

She breathed him in, closing her eyes, going boneless against his sturdy frame. She felt the molecules of her body opening, dissolving, as if somehow between the two of them, they would be able to form a new, powerful substance that was more than either of them alone.

Long moments passed. Zoe felt time slow and intensify, each second distilled to
its essence.

“I love you.”  His voice was hoarse. “I know
it’s too soon and I shouldn’t say it, but I want you to know I’ve never felt like this before.”

Zoe lifted her head, rested her chin on his chest to gaze up at the moon shadows falling on his face. “Well,
then, I shouldn’t say it either, but I love you too. It’s like a sickness.”

He gave a harsh bark of a laugh. His hands never stopped moving though her hair, along her back. The roughness of those work-hardened hands on her smooth skin almost made her purr.

“It’s like you were made for me, because everything about you is perfect to me. It’s the first time I’m glad to have the name Adam—because you’re my Eve. I’m sorry. That was terrible. I have a hard time saying what I feel.”

“I love you.” She said it again. Each word felt like a pearl dropping into his hand. “I love you for trying to tell me.”

“You could say we owe it all to Dr. Suzuki. If she hadn’t told me to try Internet dating…”

“And if the office hadn’t changed my therapy time…”

“She was our accidental matchmaker.”

“You’d have walked right past me in her waiting room.”

“But I had to kiss you instead.”

His head bent toward her, and she turned her mouth to meet his—and all the fire they’d tamped down surged up again. Desperate for that merging she’d sensed possible and beyond necessary, they fell frantic and twining into the shadowed darkness and cool sand behind the boulders, and Zoe discovered that going without underwear as Michelle recommended had
its benefits.

Adam stood, peeking around the rock. They’d used his underwear for cleanup, and behind him Zoe giggled, sounding slightly hysterical as she set herself to rights in the boulder’s shadow.

“The sand.
It’s—everywhere,” she gasped. “They don’t tell you that in the romance novels.”

“I’m sure we aren’t the first to discover that down at this end of the beach,” Adam said. As before, he felt the necessity to touch her at all times, and a new surge of protectiveness. He kept a hand on her shoulder as she brushed her dress, straightened her hair. “Act casual. Got some other people coming our way.”

Adam tucked the shawl over her shoulders even as he slid his used underwear into his pants pocket. It still shocked and delighted him to have discovered that she hadn’t been wearing any. Coming out from behind the boulder, they held hands, lightly swinging, as they headed toward another couple who had stopped, twined together in a deep kiss.

Adam squinted in the dim light—he recognized the lush backside of the
woman in the arms of a man whose blond hair shone like a silver helmet in the moonlight. They drew alongside, and his cousin Tami lifted her head, stepping back from her partner. “Adam! That you, cuz?”

“Tami, hey,” Adam said, pulling Zoe against him. “Just out for a beach walk.”

“Brad?” Zoe had gone a little rigid beside Adam. “Is that you?”

The blond-haired
man turned, one arm around Tami. Adam felt his hackles rise at the familiarity of the man’s tone. “Zoe! You seem recovered from the seasickness.”

“Yeah.” Zoe laughed, a rueful sound. “This is Adam. I’m going to be with him for the foreseeable future.” She squeezed Adam’s hand, and he squeezed hers back. Whatever this
man had been to her, it was no more.

“Ah. It all comes clear to me now.” Brad had a stiff note in his voice, but he shrugged, tightening his arm around Tami. “Good thing I kept my options open, or I wouldn’t have met Tami.”

“Small island,” Tami murmured, stepping away from Brad. “Nice to meet you, Zoe. Good luck with my cuz.”

Tami turned and strode off down the beach, clearly upset. Brad broke into a trot to catch up. Adam stared after them, and Zoe stepped closer, leaned in to him. He put his arm around her and they headed for the lighted path.

“He’s going to have his work cut out for him if he goes for Tami, and he seems like he’s going to have to start winning her over after this.”

“Brad likes a good chase.” Zoe gazed up at him. Her eyes were in shadow. He regretted he couldn’t see what color they were right now, but he knew he’d have all the time in the world to chart
their shades. “I was dating him to try to get over you. It didn’t work—for either of us.”

“Of
course it didn’t. You’re my Eve.” Saying it still felt cheesy, but better, as if he were stating a truth that would stand the test of time. He leaned down and kissed her, just to know again what he already knew—and wanted to keep knowing, every day for the rest of his life.