Read Online Rolling in the Deep: Hawaiian Heroes, Book 2 by Cathryn Cade - Free Book Online
Authors: Cathryn Cade
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the delight and applause of the other brewery patrons.
“Any more surprises?” David asked Daniel dryly.
“You mean besides the extra hot peppers on your side of the pizza?”
“That’s it—I’m having the kalua pork.”
“I’ll eat his share of the pizza,” Zane said. “I’m starving.”
“You’re always hungry, surfer boy.” Daniel looked at his cousin’s slender frame and shook his head. “Got nothing to show for it either.”
Zane grinned. “You’re jealous ’cause you’d sink da board, you tried to catch a wave.”
“Don’t need a board. Anyway, sandwiches, pizza and salad are coming. I told them right after the hula.” The meal at the Royal K had been delicious but light. He could eat some more, and his father and David no doubt would too.
“We must all eat, keep up our strength,” Hilo said. “Tomorrow’s our turn to make hula, yeah?”
“’Ae!” They raised their glasses high. Tomorrow night was luau. Melia’s family would be here from the mainland, and the other guests as well.
“We start the imu tonight,” Homu said. “Nice big pig from da Yee farm.”
The party broke up early. The Ho’omalu men were proud of their kalua pig roasts. Hilo and Homu would both be up in the wee hours to help stash the pig in its bed of hot coals and banana leaves, where it would roast slowly half the night and the following day until the meat was tender, smoky and falling off the bones. The caterers would serve it with a huge spread of local favorites and some of Melia’s new recipes that she’d created using local ingredients.
But after he said good night to the men of his family in the parking lot, Daniel headed off in a different direction. He wanted to know what the locals were talking about.
The Kolohe was tucked in behind a tattoo shop on the main road across the side of Mauna Loa. Set on the uphill side where real estate was cheaper, there was no ocean view and no umbrellas in the drinks. The food menu was limited to whatever patrons brought in from one of the local cafes. The tattoo shop was closed, a crooked sign hung on the doorknob, but light spilled across the gravel parking lot from the open doors and windows of the bar.
Daniel sauntered in and glanced around. The woven grass blinds were all rolled up to let in the soft night air. The Sons of Ni’ihau sang of their white, sandy beaches from speakers mounted high on the wall, over a glassy-eyed swordfish wearing a dirty captain’s hat.
And behind the bar stood Kahni, with bold eyes and long, streaked hair, her impressive breasts stuffed into a low-cut dress. Without asking, she produced a bottle of Kona Red and set it on the bar. Daniel smiled at her, handed her a twenty and slid onto a barstool.
“How you doin’?”
She smiled back, deposited the bill in her till and made change. “Okay, how you?”
She set his change on the bar and leaned forward. He let the money lie, enjoyed the view because she expected it, and took a pull on his beer. Didn’t taste as good as the tap brew he’d been drinking, but he wasn’t here for the beer. And her breasts weren’t as pretty as another pair he’d seen today, but he wasn’t here to compare.
“You busy later?” he asked.
She tossed her long hair, preening. “Yeah, sorry. Already got plans.”
He nodded, realizing with an inward groan that he felt no disappointment. Damn, Claire Hunter had thrust her pretty fingers into every cranny of his life. Sand in his shorts, hell—she was more like chunks of lava rubble.
Before he’d met Melia, David had had a series of flings with haole tourists. Daniel’s one try had been a spectacular fail. After convincing him and herself she was ready and willing for rough play, the little foolrealized too late she was in over her head. Although he’d stopped as soon as she asked him to, driven her home, even tried to see her the next day to make sure she was all right, she’d accused him of rape, and he’d narrowly
“Any more surprises?” David asked Daniel dryly.
“You mean besides the extra hot peppers on your side of the pizza?”
“That’s it—I’m having the kalua pork.”
“I’ll eat his share of the pizza,” Zane said. “I’m starving.”
“You’re always hungry, surfer boy.” Daniel looked at his cousin’s slender frame and shook his head. “Got nothing to show for it either.”
Zane grinned. “You’re jealous ’cause you’d sink da board, you tried to catch a wave.”
“Don’t need a board. Anyway, sandwiches, pizza and salad are coming. I told them right after the hula.” The meal at the Royal K had been delicious but light. He could eat some more, and his father and David no doubt would too.
“We must all eat, keep up our strength,” Hilo said. “Tomorrow’s our turn to make hula, yeah?”
“’Ae!” They raised their glasses high. Tomorrow night was luau. Melia’s family would be here from the mainland, and the other guests as well.
“We start the imu tonight,” Homu said. “Nice big pig from da Yee farm.”
The party broke up early. The Ho’omalu men were proud of their kalua pig roasts. Hilo and Homu would both be up in the wee hours to help stash the pig in its bed of hot coals and banana leaves, where it would roast slowly half the night and the following day until the meat was tender, smoky and falling off the bones. The caterers would serve it with a huge spread of local favorites and some of Melia’s new recipes that she’d created using local ingredients.
But after he said good night to the men of his family in the parking lot, Daniel headed off in a different direction. He wanted to know what the locals were talking about.
The Kolohe was tucked in behind a tattoo shop on the main road across the side of Mauna Loa. Set on the uphill side where real estate was cheaper, there was no ocean view and no umbrellas in the drinks. The food menu was limited to whatever patrons brought in from one of the local cafes. The tattoo shop was closed, a crooked sign hung on the doorknob, but light spilled across the gravel parking lot from the open doors and windows of the bar.
Daniel sauntered in and glanced around. The woven grass blinds were all rolled up to let in the soft night air. The Sons of Ni’ihau sang of their white, sandy beaches from speakers mounted high on the wall, over a glassy-eyed swordfish wearing a dirty captain’s hat.
And behind the bar stood Kahni, with bold eyes and long, streaked hair, her impressive breasts stuffed into a low-cut dress. Without asking, she produced a bottle of Kona Red and set it on the bar. Daniel smiled at her, handed her a twenty and slid onto a barstool.
“How you doin’?”
She smiled back, deposited the bill in her till and made change. “Okay, how you?”
She set his change on the bar and leaned forward. He let the money lie, enjoyed the view because she expected it, and took a pull on his beer. Didn’t taste as good as the tap brew he’d been drinking, but he wasn’t here for the beer. And her breasts weren’t as pretty as another pair he’d seen today, but he wasn’t here to compare.
“You busy later?” he asked.
She tossed her long hair, preening. “Yeah, sorry. Already got plans.”
He nodded, realizing with an inward groan that he felt no disappointment. Damn, Claire Hunter had thrust her pretty fingers into every cranny of his life. Sand in his shorts, hell—she was more like chunks of lava rubble.
Before he’d met Melia, David had had a series of flings with haole tourists. Daniel’s one try had been a spectacular fail. After convincing him and herself she was ready and willing for rough play, the little foolrealized too late she was in over her head. Although he’d stopped as soon as she asked him to, driven her home, even tried to see her the next day to make sure she was all right, she’d accused him of rape, and he’d narrowly
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