Page 33 of His Hawaiian Heart
I rolled my eyes. “That’s saying a whole lot of crap only to say absolutely nothing.”
He laughed. “Kaikua?ana, did you even listen to what you didn’t say?”
“Brother,” I said using the English translation of the same address he’d used, “for fuck’s sake, just spit it out. I don’t have time for all this dancing around.”
As I’d said, Kekoa couldn’t care less that he was irritating the hell out of me. He wouldn’t tell me a damn thing until he was good and ready. Fortunately, he tired of fucking around and shook his head.
“Seriously, Sam, take a minute and give it some thought. You might not be a doctor, but you can’t be that dense . Not and manage all this.” He gestured as if I needed a visual of what had been in the family for generations. Still, I guess he figured I might need a hint as he repeated, “What. Didn’t. You. Say?”
He then simply quirked his brow and stood there like the strong warrior he’d been named for. We’d played this game before and to the best of my recollection, he was so far ahead in the win column, I didn’t stand a chance. Instead of even trying, I took a minute to actually consider his question. I wasn’t the least bit interested in discussing why Katrina seemed to have flipped from wishing me luck to wishing me out of Sam’s life. I’d assured him Harriett, who he’d also claimed as his own beloved grandmother by calling her Tutu, was fine, and I’d shared how fascinating I found Samantha.
“You win. The only part I left out was the fact I’ve got a dinner date tonight.”
He shook his head. His hair was almost as long as Samantha’s and just about as curly. Kekoa even wore it in a ponytail though his was pulled straight back from his forehead and a piece of leather held it at the base of his neck. I’d teased him once asking if the ladies liked to run their fingers through his lovely locks. If his cocky grin hadn’t been enough of an answer, he qualified it by stating they liked to trace the outline of his tattoos even more. Hell, if I weren’t heterosexual, I’d probably find him ogle-worthy myself. The man was absolutely ripped in a sleek way.
“No, Sam, you left out what she looks like. For the first time since I’ve known you, you didn’t start off with her hair color, the color of her eyes, what shape she is, or if she’s short or tall. I have no clue if she’s as skinny as Olive Oil, has the hour-glass shape like Scarlett Johannson, a booty like Beyonce or is as kick-ass as Bethany Hamilton. I know she’s a scientist and artist, studies bugs, is smart as a whip, has a sense of humor. The fact she has to have the patience of a saint if she not only spent an entire day with you but is willing to suffer through dinner as well, tells me she must have at least a touch of masochism in her DNA, but I don’t have a single clue what she looks like.”
I was surprised to hear him lay everything out like that but realized that I didn’t actually care what she looked like. It was who she was that mattered.
“She’s Samantha. She’s as beautiful as she is intelligent, and if I don’t get my ass in gear, I’m going to disappoint her by being late.”
Kekoa nodded and once more slapped my shoulder. “I’m really happy for you. When can I meet her?”
“Not tonight,” I said instantly. “Tonight is just for the two of us.”
His eyebrow quirked again. “So, you plan on taking her through a drive-thru and eating in the car?”
“Ha-ha-ha. Nice try but I’m not giving you the name of the restaurant so you canaccidentallybump into us there. If everything goes like I hope, you’ll meet her soon enough.”
“That’s fine. You have dinner with your gal. I believe I’ll have mine with Tutu Harriett.”
“I’m sure she’d enjoy that,” I said, knowing that as much as he liked to poke me, he wouldn’t do a thing that might cause Harriett to be upset. Forcing myself to take care of business, I added, “And yes, I think it’s time we shift the cattle. Tell the rest of the men we’ll start rotating them the first of next week.”
“Consider it done. Have a good time, and, Sam?” He waited until I met his gaze. He smiled and I knew exactly why women were drawn to him. “I’m happy for you. Samantha’s a lucky lady.”
I shook my head. “I’m the lucky one.”
Instead of slapping me again, he hugged me and I knew he truly was happy. “See you tomorrow. And, don’t worry about being late, I’ve got your back.”
And I knew he did.
An hour later, I pulled the Range Rover off the road and put it in park. Not that I expected a great deal of traffic on this road, but since my date didn’t exactly live where I could pull up to the curb and walk to the door to pick her up, I didn’t want to block any traffic that might need space to pass. The change of vehicles allowed me to get a great deal closer to the camp, but a bit of a walk would still be required. Climbing out of the car, I paused to take off my jacket only to stop short when a whistle sounded.
It wasn’t the piercing one I’d heard before, but rather one associated with men who wanted to catch the attention of some woman in passing. Turning, I was prepared to pretend to be offended at the “cat-call,” but all pretense fled the moment Samantha stepped out of the trees.
I’d known she was beautiful, but that had been when she’d been in jeans and a t-shirt and her hair up in a ponytail. The Sam before me now was stunning. She’d exchanged the jeans and tee for a sleeveless dress that I knew was not but a shade or two darker than her eyes. Her hair, while up, wasn’t swinging as she moved, but was braided and pinned up into an elegant French twist. The only thing I could do was return the favor and give a long, very heart-felt wolf-whistle of my own.
Her smile was instantaneous and as she sashayed toward me, I felt my grin grow.
“You like?”
“Babygirl, I don’t like, I love. How you managed, in the middle of the jungle no less, to do this…” I swept my hand from her head downward and when I lost my train of thought, she burst into laughter.
“What’s the matter?”
Her attempt at being serious was marred by another laugh which I ignored. “What could possibly be the matter? You’re not only gorgeous, you’re practical,” I said, finishing my gesture to include her feet which were clad in the same pair of hiking boots she’d worn the day before.
“You’re a sweet man, Samuel… by the way, is there a reason you’ve never told me your last name?”
