Chapter 28 #2
Koa comes across the sand with Shaka and Loco in tow, all three of them backlit and ridiculously handsome, and I have to remind my heart to act normal.
Koa strides across the sand flanked by his brothers, bronzed and hotter than the sun, and every contestant on this beach sits up a little straighter once they spot them.
I get to be smug about it, because that sexy swagger, that broad chest, those shoulders, and those dimples are all headed directly my way.
Shaka and Loco are in board shorts and T-shirts, but Koa is in his unofficial uniform, jeans and a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, and he’s wearing the trace of a wicked smile meant just for me.
“We’re here to murder the runway,” Loco announces.
“Dismantle,” Koa corrects with a frown.
About ten women swoon. I’m one of them.
“Dismantle the runway,” Loco amends with a short-lived smile.
“It was a beautiful runway,” I tell them. “It hosted a crowning and an arrest in the same evening. Most runways go their whole lives without either.”
Ruby gives a thumbs up. “It was a full-service infrastructure.”
“It’s going to be an infrastructure for the chickens if we leave it up another day,” Shaka says. “Three of them have moved in. One’s nesting under the stage.”
And with that, Shaka and Loco head down the beach toward the water to take apart the only structure on this property that didn’t end in a lawsuit.
I’m watching them go when Jelly drifts over with Spam Musubi trotting at her heels on the coral leash. Jelly’s red hair is pulled back in a jaunty little ponytail and she has on yoga wear that matches the pooch’s collar.
“I’m heading out,” she says. “I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. You figured it out, Jinx. You got justice for Vera and Flash both.” She smiles down at the happy puppy. “And you put up with this ball of energy all week.”
Spam Musubi spots Koa, and all common sense leaves her tiny little body.
She lights up, strains against the leash, her tail whipping like a propeller as she lets out one high, joyful yip aimed entirely at him.
She gazes up with her whole goofy Shiba heart in her eyes, utterly and shamelessly smitten.
Same girl. Same.
Spam lifts his head from my arms, surveys the dog’s display with one slow, withering, contemptuous look, and growls low in his throat.
The look says, plainly, that he has seen barnacles with more dignity, that she is a disgrace to quadrupeds everywhere, and that he cannot believe he is expected to share an island, let alone a name, with this groveling embarrassment.
“What’s going to happen to the little cutie?” Ruby asks, melting on cue. “Look at that goofy grin.”
Lani nods. “Where’s she headed? Home with you?”
Jelly’s smile dims. “Back to the humane society, actually. She was a foster. They let me take her for the week, but that’s about as far as I can go with her.
” She bends to scratch the dog’s ears. “It’s a good shelter, though.
No-kill. They do it right. Besides, having her with me this week kept her out of a cage. ”
I groan before I can stop myself. The poor thing is going back into lockdown after a week of frolicking along Hanalei Bay. And she helped catch a killer. The cute little furry thing needs to be deputized at this point.
“Oh, no.” I look down at Spam Musubi, at the goofy grin, the hopeful little wiggle, and the absolute devotion pouring out of every fuzzy inch of her.
I scratch under her chin, and she melts into my hand.
Well. That’s alarmingly adorable. “You helped save my life last night, you know that? You sat right on a murderer’s head.
And now you’re going back to the—” I sigh.
“I’m sorry, sweetie pie. I know from personal experience the Gray Bar Hotel is no fun.
I did six hours. You don’t deserve a cage. ”
Koa clears his throat. “She’s not going back,” he says.
I look up.
“Spam Musubi’s coming home with me.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he hasn’t just rearranged my entire heart. “I stopped by the shelter on my way over. I figured she was headed back today, and I didn’t see the point of putting her through it.”
He bends and scoops her up one-handed, careful of the bandaged arm, and the sweet pup absolutely loses her mind, wriggling and yipping and washing his entire face with frantic, ecstatic kisses while he stands there and takes it.
He’s grown comfortable being worshipped. It’s one of his better qualities.
“You adopted the smiling gremlin?” I ask.
“I adopted the smiling gremlin.”
“On your way to deal with the aftermath of a homicide? You detoured to a shelter to adopt a little lovebug so she wouldn’t have to spend another night in a shelter?” I’m stunned, and I don’t know why. I should have seen this coming.
Lani and Ruby coo in unison. Jelly swoons. I think Spam Musubi fainted. Koa’s dimple digs in.
“Don’t make it a thing.”
“It’s a thing,” I tell him. “It’s a huge thing. You’re a marshmallow in a badge.”
“She’s persistent,” he says, exactly like he said it on the beach a week ago, and the little fluff muffin licks his ear, and that’s that.
“Oh, I’m going to cry,” Jelly says, delighted as she wipes away tears.
“This is perfect. This is exactly what she wanted! She adores him, look at her. Thank you, Detective. Thank you so much.” She kisses the sweet angel’s head, says her goodbyes all around, and floats off up the beach looking eleven pounds lighter, and coincidentally leaving Koa holding eleven pounds of pure puppy love.
“I love a happy ending,” Lani sighs.
“I love a man who can’t say no to a cute pooch,” Ruby says, fanning herself. “It’s the best thing I’ve seen all week, and I watched Charlotte set her own head on fire.”
I look at Koa, at the ridiculous little fluffball who’s clearly convinced Koa has access to an endless supply of bacon, and shake my head. “Okay, I have to admit you’re awfully cute together.” I hold up a finger. “But she’s the only other woman I approve of kissing you senseless.”
He laughs as he gives her a quick scratch behind the ears. “I’ll let her know she made the list.”
I wrap the both of them in a hug with my own little Spam pressed along for the ride, and a sharp yowl of protest erupts from somewhere inside the huddle.
But before I can process it, an annoying little Birdie appears in my line of vision. Birdie Makai. Koa’s ex. That buxom Birdie, to be exact.
Her dark hair snakes around her shoulders, her mangoes are jutting out, and she lifts the hem of her dress a notch to ensure her long bronzed legs are on full display for all to see.
She comes sweeping down the sand in a sundress and oversized sunglasses, phone in hand, like she owns the beach and several adjoining beaches, and my entire body tenses on reflex.
She looks pert, perky, and pouty. Three of my least favorite P words. Have I mentioned pretty? At this point that’s a given.
“Don’t mind me!” she trills. “I’m just inspecting the grounds.
” She takes a moment to openly scowl at me.
“I’m the organizer of a little event being held here next week and I wanted to scout the lay of the land.
” Her eyes find Koa, and the little cutie in his arms, and she lights up.
“Koa Hale. Of course you’d be here. You know, I was going to call you. ”
“Birdie,” Koa says, in the flat voice of a man spotting a hurricane on the horizon.