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  As he’d hoped, he found some sets of extra boots sitting in the corner near the barn door. Barbecue bonus: several pairs of jeans hanging on some pegs on the wall. That made sense, considering the island’s humid weather didn’t make it tolerable to drag down one’s legs in denim for hours.

  He found some boots in his size and a pair of jeans that were close. Though the pants fit low on his hips, they’d get the job done.

  After changing his shorts for the jeans, he walked back out to the corral. Leo didn’t miss his cue to let out a mocking grunt. “You trying out for a romance novel photo shoot in those jeans?”

  He moved on without pausing, stepping up on the fence and then swinging a leg over. “And do you want to get this horse in a bridle today or not?”

  Leo’s eyes went wide. Well gee fucking whillikers, the boy actually seemed surprised—and humbled. “Yeah,” he stammered. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Then shut up and listen.”

  A huge slice of the kid’s attitude slid away as he stepped back. “Her name is Isis.”

  He allowed a smile to slip free. “One of the most important goddesses of all time.”

  Leo rolled his eyes again, though the action came with humor more than attitude. “Well, it fits. And she knows it.” As he extended the pole to Tait, a full crack appeared in his veneer. Beyond it was a core of pure tenderness. “I’ve been trying to get this around her neck for weeks. She doesn’t get the pressure that’s on. If she isn’t fully saddle-trained by the time Benson gets his claws into this place, he’ll sell her to the glue factory along with the others.”

  He didn’t waste time on challenging the kid’s assumption. Even if the literal translation of the statement wasn’t accurate, real fear underlined Leo’s words. After a few minutes with Gunter Benson last night, Tait couldn’t blame the kid. The man carried a “concern” for the land only as far as it served him. If Isis wasn’t pulling her weight—or slogging it up and down the beach in use to the resort—she would be sold, perhaps to a fate worse than a glue factory.

  “You hang on to that,” he said, indicating the pole. “You’re going to be just as much a part of this, if you want the lesson to stick.”

  Leo nodded eagerly. “Good plan. So maybe you’ll distract her while I sneak up and—”

  He smacked the kid on the side of his well-groomed head. “Did you look up how to do this on YouTube or something?” He chuffed when the deep blush on Leo’s face supplied that answer. “Did you research how to date girls on there, too?”

  “Fuck no!”

  “Then what made you think you could learn to win this girl like that?”

  He let Leo stew about that while he walked around so Isis could see him. He took gentle, slow steps. The horse snorted, stamped a hoof, and backed away. He followed her with his head bent low, hands at his sides. When Isis stopped, he dropped to a knee, letting her sniff the air to get used to his presence.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Leo charged.

  Tait turned his head up, letting the filly watch his soft movements. He picked his reply to the boy with care. He had no idea what Franz had disclosed about him, though he doubted that his captain, who was a fellow and regular Dominant at their favorite BDSM dungeon back home, would’ve disclosed that morsel about Tait’s personality. Nevertheless, many of the tenets of this situation could be culled directly from the beginning stages of a loving and honest D/s relationship. Not that he’d possessed any desire to exercise those principles lately.

  “Tell me something,” he began. “When you’re going in for the major impression on a girl, like wanting her to beg you for the goodnight kiss in a few hours, what are the most important steps to consider?”

  “Well, you gotta have swagger,” the boy asserted. “Impress her with your moves, your mojo.”

  Tait exercised his turn for the eye roll now. He leaned over and let the idiot have the full, dismayed impact of it. “Seriously?”

  “Uh…yeah. What the hell’s wrong with—”

  “Dude, if you were a girl and saw Leo Kail sauntering into the room with that ’tude, would you be dreaming of some lip action?” He let the teen mull that over as he swiveled to face Isis again. Gently, he reached up to stroke the animal’s muzzle with the backs of his knuckles. “Before a guy locks you in a harness, you just want to know you can trust him, don’t you, girl?” He kept his voice low, his touch respectful. “You want to be sure he’s going to treat you right. That your obedience gets you a nice reward.”

  He pulled his hand away. Stretched into half a crouch and stepped back a little.

  Isis trailed him by a slow step, dipping her head and pushing at him for more.

  “Fuck,” Leo uttered. “That’s…amazing.”

  Tait chuckled and shook his head. “That’s just showing our girl how valuable her compliance is.” He turned his hand over, rubbing her with the flat of his palm. “You want to be good, don’t you, baby? You simply need to feel safe when you are.”

  Just as quietly, Leo walked back over. An amazed smile curved the kid’s lips, and he ran a reverent hand down the horse’s neck. “Wow. You did that in, like, five minutes.”

  Tait gave the kid a friendly shoulder clap. “Couldn’t have without the foundation you clearly built. You just needed a few pointers on closing the deal.” As Isis emitted a fluttering sigh, he instructed, “I’m going to step back again. Try the lead line now.”

  He made good on his word. Though Isis gave a little protesting nicker, she only jerked at the lead line a few times. Leo soothed her with soft tongue clicks and praising murmurs. “Good girl. That’s my beauty.”

  “Nice,” Tait complimented. “You’re doing great, man.”

  His chest warmed with a duality of sensation when Leo sent a grin of thanks. It was incredible to connect with the boy, to watch him accomplish an important goal because he got smart and listened. But “torture session” got a cruel new meaning with every glance at Leo’s smile and noticing every stunning similarity it shared with his sister. The deep dimples. The slight lift higher on the left side of his mouth, lending a mischievous air. The compassion in those silvery-bright eyes that spoke volumes about what the kid had already been through in life. Yeah, that one, especially. He and Shay shared a similar glint in their gazes.

  Damn. Damn.

  Had he been sent to this island and plopped next door to the woman as a blessing or a curse? Was Hokulani a sign to him or a punishment for him? And what good did it do to agonize over the answers? He wouldn’t be seeing the woman anymore. He couldn’t stand by and watch Slash slick her up with his Romeo act when the guy planned on carrying the whole plot through to its crap-fest of an end, figurative as it would be, in two weeks. Here’s to my love! O, true apothecary; thy drugs are quick! Thus with a kiss I die…

  Gag.

  “Bommer!”

  Leo’s eager whisper drew him back. He was glad to do so. They both held their breaths as Isis, remaining remarkably still, allowed the kid to fit the simple rope head-collar on. “Fucking awesome,” he stated. “Good job, Leo.”

  “Aha.” The kid chuckled as he rewarded the filly with ample caresses. “I knew you had at least one decent F-bomb in there somewhere.”

  Tait huffed. “I’ve been known to indulge from time to time.”

  “So…uhhh…speaking of indulging…”

  “Yeah?” He didn’t hide his suspicious tone, though he allowed Leo to see the teasing smirk he attached.

  “Does this psychobabble shit really work on girls, too?”

  Chapter Eight

  This wasn’t right.

  Lani was as sure of that truth as she was of the air in her lungs, the beat of her heart—and the tension that hadn’t left Kellan’s eyes in the last three days. Seventy-two hours in which he’d chosen to remain at Hale Anelas instead of going back to Franz’s place to smooth things out with Tait. The brief trip he’d taken yesterday for some fresh clothes hadn’t counted, especially because he deliberately took it aft
er Leo announced he was meeting Tait for a horse ride up the coast, ensuring an “all clear” status for Kellan’s trip.

  The whole situation troubled her. Even more upsetting was when logic stepped in, telling her it shouldn’t. The guys had only a little over a week left here, and then it would be a miracle if either of them returned to the island. Why should it matter to her if their friendship was bashed beyond repair and they chose to torpedo it and their careers in the names of pride and pigheadedness?

  But even after her brief time with the men together, she knew the answer to that too.

  They were better than this.

  They were worth more than this.

  Franzen had known it when he’d moved the army’s version of heaven and earth, then tossed in the keys to his family home, to give them this opportunity at repair. If their captain knew what was really happening instead, what would he do?

  She’d tried posing that question to Kellan last night at dinner but received his version of a shutdown—which was to drop beneath the table, spread her legs, tear her panties free, and declare he was in the mood for a different kind of “tasty meal.” After his tongue had taken her body apart in a million orgasmic pieces, he’d dragged her to the floor, growling how he intended to make her scream for dessert. She’d done just that—three more times. Shit, shit, shit. If the man insisted on having the maturity of a fourteen-year-old, was it necessary that he possess the sex drive of one, too?

  Because the mind-blowing sex didn’t confuse things enough, their physical chemistry wasn’t the only perk of having the man around all the time. Crazy, what happened when a girl owned a house with fifteen rooms and had the Energizer bunny hanging around, ready to screw her in all of them. With every new space they visited in his sexy version of a property tour, Kellan was also swift to notice everything that needed repairing there. Within the next hour, she’d hear him hammering, power drilling, tinkering, or even cursing his way through the fix. If she came in to see what was happening, he’d simply flash that stomach-flipping grin and give her a cocky wink before throwing his focus back into the work.

  She’d left him doing exactly that to a ceiling fan in one of the upstairs guest rooms, tripling her guilt about lying to him when she left. It hadn’t been a total fib; she really did run to the bank and the grocery store. Could she help it if Franz’s place was on the way home and she had an extra bag of groceries thanks to some good sales? Could she also help it if Kellan hadn’t been here since his ride over a day ago, nudging her a tad over the “reasonably worried” line about Tait? The guy had been riding with Leo a few times, but they had to skip the outing today due to Leo’s fencing match. That left a lot of hours open for Tait to drink himself into another stupor—a potentially dangerous one, judging from Kell’s assessment of how frequently the guy had been hitting the juice lately.

  She rang the doorbell and knocked.

  Three times each.

  Damn. Either Tait wasn’t here or really was shitfaced again. Both theories compelled her to fish out her own key to the place. Since she and Leo came over often to check on things for Franz, she could let herself in with one easy turn.

  As she crossed the living room, she peered around in wonder. Though Tait had been the only guy actually living here, she expected the place to resemble the wake of a hurricane. Every day, Leo demonstrated the housekeeping nightmare even one male could create.

  A deeper frown took over. While the minimal mess was a pleasant change, her perusal didn’t include a Sergeant Bommer sighting, either. The three bedrooms and den, all reflecting the Franzen family’s taste in comfortable island décor, were also empty.

  She moved into the kitchen to put away the groceries. Still no sign of the man.

  Checking her phone confirmed the time, four o’clock, which meant she’d been gone nearly an hour. She estimated she had another fifteen to twenty minutes before Kellan started his protective freak-out, so that was how long she’d wait too.

  Or…maybe not. What were her intentions if Tait showed up? She couldn’t shoot the breeze about the weather, which had been eighty and unchanged since the storm three nights ago. If she started to meddle, would the men appreciate it or resent it? Was she plowing her nose somewhere it didn’t belong?

  Just when she’d decided on a yes in answer to that question, car tires crunched on gravel outside. As the engine cut, Lani pulled in a breath with the intent of calming herself, but her choppy exhalation accomplished the opposite.

  She stood in the middle of the living room, attention on the front door. And waited for what felt like an eternity.

  “Hokulani?”

  “Ahhh!”

  Her yelp filled the room. Though his inquiry was quiet, its issuance from three feet behind her was as startling as a scorpion.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I will be after my heart climbs out of my throat.” She stepped back before she could help herself. The shock of his ninja-style entrance from the lanai was only half the cause. His utter resplendence formed the other half. Even in board shorts that fit him way too well and a blue V-neck tee that hugged his body even better, the man seemed like a half-god sent from another realm. His gaze matched the late afternoon sun for depth. His hair, a little better combed today, still made her fingers tingle to touch it. And his mouth, luscious and smiling… Ohhhh no. Too dangerous. Don’t go there. No use studying the strong column of his neck, either. Or how the masses of his biceps pushed from the short sleeves of his shirt. Or how those shorts defined things so perfectly from his waist down…

  Thank God he wasn’t at a sudden loss for words.

  “Sorry.” He gave up an awkward laugh, betraying how much he meant it. “When I saw the unfamiliar car outside, I had no idea who was here.”

  “So you decided to get the badass warrior jump on them.” Teasing him brought back a welcome wave of control.

  He grinned. “Something like that.”

  A longer-than-comfortable silence descended. She glanced up, only to see that his stare was just as fixed on her as before. So much for regaining composure. “So.” She twisted her lips. “Are you okay?”

  “You’re stealing my lines, dreamgirl.”

  Oh God. He hadn’t forgotten his drunken nickname for her. And just her luck, it sounded much better when he was sober. Dangerously better. Low and silken and…intimate.

  How the hell could the man be amazed that his partner had gotten horizontal with her inside a couple of hours? Kellan probably learned the technique from him. It was all she could do not to fantasize about letting him croon that word again, down the length of her neck. In her ear. Against her lips…her breasts…her abdomen…and lower…

  You are going to hell, Hokulani. And your panties are going to be soaked when you get there, thanks to your wicked yearnings for two men at the same time.

  She needed to refocus. Fast. Needed to think of boring things like…paying the bills. Cleaning out the storm gutters. Picking snails off the rosebushes. Going to the bank and fending off Dexter Greene’s skeevy invitations for dinner. Grocery shopping.

  “Groceries!” she blurted.

  “Excuse me?” Tait exposed his crooked canine in a curious half smile.

  “That’s…errrm…why I—” While nodding toward the kitchen, she nervously twisted the ends of her summer scarf. “I just had some extra groceries and stopped by to share.”

  “You had ‘extra groceries’? With a kid like Leo in the house?”

  She winced. “All right, you got me. Maybe I was checking in on you. Just a little.”

  Only when he chuckled again did she realize she was tensing for a different reaction. Based on what she knew of Franz, these Special Forces men were stubborn, prideful, and secretive. The traits weren’t character flaws; they were job essentials. By coming here, she’d pushed at the first two and shattered the third with Tait. But the man actually smiled wider before replying to her.

  “Guess I can’t blame you, after the sloppy first impression I gav
e.”

  “Or the fight you had with your best friend the morning after?” she countered. “Because of me?”

  His smile dissolved. “You think you caused this?” He shook his head. “Stop it. Right now. This is a bigger mess than what you see, Hokulani. It started before we got here. Way before.”

  She let a meaningful pause go by. “It started with Luna?”

  His jaw went granite hard. “He told you about her?”

  “Only because I asked.” She caught him by the forearm as he wheeled toward the lanai. “You called me by her name,” she blurted, “when you were still blotto on my couch. But you sounded so tormented, so I had to know.”

  “Now you do.” He grabbed her fingers with his free hand and pushed them away. “Happy?”

  She let him escape to the porch. After he’d stood out there a long minute, his posture so proud but his profile tautening by the second, she walked out to join him. “What is it about me,” she finally asked with soft care, “that brings her back for you?”

  He snapped his head at her. Grief, desperation, and confusion flashed out from his gaze. “Nice follow-up, lady. Was Slash not so inclined to answer it, or did you want to save it for this special occasion?”

  She let his words fall into another long silence. At last she asserted, “You’re off the clock here, Sergeant. There’s no answer required. I never asked Kellan to answer that, nor are you required to.”

  He pulled in an unsteady breath. “So…how’d you even know to ask it? Is there some cool mind-reading algorithm out there these days? Maybe a magical quiz in Cosmo, Just How Fucked Up is the Guy Next Door?”