One Bossy Dare

With her safely upright again, I drop my arms, giving up my hold on her and taking a step back.

I need space. Also, a week’s worth of cold fucking showers.

“Um, sorry. Must be these shoes,” she says breathlessly. “I’m still getting used to the new kicks I had to buy for the safety code here. I didn’t strap them tight enough...”

I smile politely, a total front for the beast inside me, which is howling to drag her against my chest and sniff her mahogany hair.

“You’ll need a more comfortable pair for where we’re going,” I say, enjoying the wonder in her eyes. “Fortunately, we don’t need to talk much. I came to tell you to pack your bags. We’re going to Kona for the next week or two.”

“Kona? As in Kona, Hawaii?” She blinks.

“Is there another Kona I don’t know about with premier acreage for the world’s best coffee?” I say sardonically.

She glowers, her usual shields back up.

“If there were, I’m sure you’d rub it in my face—but why?”

“You’ll get the details by email shortly,” I say, checking the time on my phone.

“So this isn’t just a crazy joke? It’s a real...what, a business trip? To Kona?” Her whole expression shines with disbelief.

I nod firmly. “Yes. Don’t make me repeat myself again, Miss Angelo. Now, I have one more call and arrangements to make with Destiny.”

I turn and start walking, tugging at my shirt collar to release the steam that’s still hissing inside my suit from this encounter.

“Hey, Lump—umm—Cole—” She shakes her head fitfully. “Mr. Lancaster? Will you tell me why we’re going to Hawaii?”

Fair enough. It’s not just the surprise trip to paradise. When I look at her, I can tell she’s as dazed from falling into my arms as I am catching her.

We had a moment.

A mutual effect.

A shared fever.

Regrettably, it doesn’t look like it’ll be cured anytime soon. Part of me already dreads ushering her off to a breezy island where she’ll be showing more skin to stay cool.

Another part of me roars with delight.

Fuck, maybe I should have just kissed her now and gotten it out of my system, consequences be damned.

You dumbass, you’re lucky you didn’t, a panicked voice yells inside me. Stop making death wishes.

“This call is too important. Sorry,” I say, annoyed that I’ve actually lost track of time.

“What call? What bigshot needs your ear this late?” she calls after me, her small voice bouncing around the massive lab.

“That’s confidential,” I yell back. “You’ll have the details soon!”

Enough.

I all but run, throwing the heavy door open before any of my legion of depraved thoughts turn into destructive actions.

Also, I really did schedule that follow up with Winthrope the Younger.

Cowardly or not, sweet distance is the smartest choice right now.

Tom waits outside, holding the car door open when he sees me coming.

Thank fuck my driver is always so early. I escape into the back seat just as my phone lights up with Winthrope’s call.

It only takes us ten minutes in late evening traffic to hash out some preliminary details. We’re tentatively moving forward. If all goes well, he’ll have a test batch for his team’s personal approval in a few weeks tops.

We’ll let a hundred emails and a small mountain of digital paperwork between our people hash out the rest.

This trip is a surprise, and for one person in my life, it could be a highly unpleasant one. The rest of the way home, I mull over what the hell I’m going to tell Destiny.

There’s a good reason why we haven’t been back to the old family estate on Kona for a decade.

She was just a kid then.

Now, she’s almost a young woman. I suspect she’ll be eager to prove to the world and herself that she won’t be limited by any trauma.

She’ll likely bound off the walls until she beats them down if I don’t let her tag along.

If only I had any idea how she’ll truly handle being there...

She may barely remember our last trip when Aster washed up on that beach. Not consciously, anyway. Subconsciously, though—fuck.

She doesn’t even like warm beaches since our shared nightmare.

When she was seven, I tried to take her for a vacation. I knew better than to try Hawaii again, and honestly, it left a foul taste in my mouth, too.

Aster would never win any awards for mother and wife of the year. She was young and beautiful and temperamental as hell. She damn sure didn’t deserve that final swim.

Maybe we were destined for divorce if she’d lived a few more years, but she had her whole life to change as a person. As a mother, for Dess.

Until she didn’t.

With Hawaii becoming a graveyard, we went to Thailand instead. Picturesque white-gold beaches and a rich cultural history.

My little bee had to be coaxed out of the hotel room perched above the gentle rolling waves. She screamed bloody murder when I finally tried to lead her to the beach.