It's Hotter In Hawaii. HelenKay DimonЧитать онлайн книгу.
Cal still had not said a word a half hour later when he pulled the rental Jeep into a parking space behind the beige one-story police station.
Cassie noticed how he found the building without any directions from her. The concrete office in the middle of a paved parking lot was not the usual tourist destination. Not a lot of green or any surfing here. Just a slight ramp that led to glass doors at the back of a nondescript building.
“You’ve been here before?” She put a shaky hand on the dashboard as she tried to stop her body from swaying now that the car had stopped.
“It’s on the map I checked out at the airport.”
The guy had an answer for everything. “Do you always drive like that?”
He slammed the car into park. “Nothing wrong with the way I drive.”
“Not if you’re on a racetrack.”
“I wanted to get here at a decent hour.”
“It’s six in the morning.” Which explained the lack of people and cars in downtown Lihue.
The area did not resemble Oahu’s Honolulu with its high-rise buildings and varied restaurant choices. The island of Kauai tended to the tourist trade like the rest of the Hawaiian Islands, but at heart, it remained an agricultural center and surfing haven.
Plush and green, with wide-open spaces, low-slung buildings, and a slower way of life, Kauai appealed to people looking for the Hawaii immortalized in postcards. Sun, surf, flowers, and land.
From the sweet scent in the air to the sweeping waterfalls of the Na Pali Coast that could only be seen by helicopter, boat, or on foot, Dan had loved this land. He retired from the military and returned to Hawaii, their home since their teens.
Whatever plagued Dan followed him here. Cassie vowed to figure it out and clear his name. To the extent Cal was the key, she’d drag him along for the ride.
“The way I see it,” the key in question said, “there’s no reason to wait to get our day started.”
Cassie disagreed. A shower, change of clothes, and a big cup of coffee sounded better than an early-morning drive around the island at a speed that defied nature. The sun just started coming up. A few more minutes in the car, and so would her granola bar.
“Kauai might not be Miami, but there are traffic laws here. I’m pretty sure the speed limit isn’t ninety.” Even though the car had stopped, her stomach continued to flop around.
“Panama City.” Cal turned off the engine, letting his keys dangle in the ignition.
“Are we throwing out the names of cities now? If so, I pick Minneapolis.”
He finally looked in her general direction. Or Cassie thought that was true. His dark sunglasses hid his eyes and any expression.
“I live in Panama City. Not Miami,” he said.
Probably a question she should have asked earlier. Not knowing anything about this guy except that he was the only person to ever take a good driver’s license photo lacked a certain level of safety.
“Mind telling me what you do back in Panama City?”
He flashed her a killer smile, showing off rows of perfectly aligned white teeth and an irresistible dimple in his left cheek. “Finally figured out you don’t know anything about me, huh?”
“Just answer the question.” Before she wised up and got nervous about being in a car with a perfect stranger.
“Yes, ma’am.” Cal pretended to snap to attention. Even shot her a half-salute. “Until a few months ago I was a lieutenant colonel in the Air Force with the Sixteenth Special Operations Wing out of Hulbert.”
“Hulbert?”
“Hulbert Field. Most recently, I’ve been training PJ recruits at the Combat Dive Course, which is why I’m in Panama City.”
She tapped her fingers on the console between their seats. “What did you do a few months ago that caused the switch?”
A warm, rich laugh escaped him. “You assuming I did something wrong?”
“Actually, yes.”
Cal rested his hand over the steering wheel, letting his long lean fingers hang down through the opening. “You sure know how to kick a man’s ego.”
A tiny spark of guilt flared at the edge of her mind. He had not given her any reason to expect the best in him except the fact he hadn’t shoved her in a closet and left her there after she turned the gun on him earlier.
Still…“Feel free to answer.”
“For the record, I didn’t do anything bad. I retired from active duty. Now I’m a consultant.”
“Military life not exciting enough for you?” She stopped tapping and wrapped her hand around the gearshift instead.
“Don’t touch that.”
“The car is off.”
“And your gun wasn’t loaded.” That dimple grew more prominent. “Yeah, I checked.”
She peeked in the side of his glasses and watched him track two officers as they walked out of the station and slid into a patrol car.
Not much action at this time of the morning. No horns honking. Just a few cars passing by and the light rustle of the warm breeze through the palm trees. Must not be much crime, either, if no one bothered to notice a car sitting just outside the back door of the building.
“So, you’re not going to tell me the real reason you’re a former military guy?” she asked.
“Let’s just say I was ready to move on to another, more exciting, challenge.”
Now there was a mentality she despised. Always seeking something faster, a thrill more dangerous, a better-looking woman. Typical.
“Once a flyboy, always a flyboy,” she mumbled in the direction of the window.
“I sense you’re not big on pilots.”
“I prefer grown-up men to little boys who dream of owning the skies.”
“Ahhh.” He drew out the sound to four syllables.
“Having a problem talking in complete sentences?”
“Nuh-uh.”
The guy should do a comedy show. “Any chance of you elaborating for those of us who prefer English?”
“I get the problem here.”
Since he was her main problem at the moment, she decided to ask. “Do tell.”
“It’s obvious.” He waited a beat. “A pilot dumped you.”
“You’re an idiot.” And far too clever for her taste.
Cassie had not only been dumped. She had been cheated on, humiliated, put down, and then dumped. Dating Han Rodman, pilot extraordinaire, had been the worst three months of her life. Escaping him with a piece of her self-esteem intact qualified as her best day ever.
Instead of taking the hint, Cal droned on, annoying her with every word. “Not every woman can handle a military man. Don’t be hard on yourself.”
Now he was being cocky. Part of the breed. An annoying part.
“So, why did we drive all over the island before I’m even awake?” she asked.
“Technically, you haven’t slept yet.”
“Believe me, I know.” A few more minutes and she’d be eating the steering wheel then curling up on top of it for a nap. “Are you ever going to tell me what we’re doing?”
“Just trying to follow your directions, boss.”
Funny