Chapter 13
“I’m kidnapping you,” Koa announces, and there’s something in his eyes, mischief mixed with determination, that has me reaching for my flip-flops before my brain catches up.
The sky is quickly turning purple as he leads me down toward the black sand beach next door, and the sound of waves crashing over the shoreline sounds like a love song.
“I’m being kidnapped by one of Kauai’s finest,” I say. “Does that mean I get to file a complaint?”
“Only if I don’t return you in one piece.”
“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is. But I’d like to go on record as a fully willing hostage.”
He grins, and it transforms his whole face from brooding detective to something dangerously sexy. “Are you up for an adventure?”
“After the day we’ve had?” I shake my head. “That couples therapy was brutal. Pretending to fight with you was harder than I expected.”
“We didn’t fight,” he says, his brow furrowing slightly. “I don’t remember a single misaligned word between us.”
“Exactly,” I tell him. “We’re supposed to have relationship problems, remember? We were too...” I search for the word. “Compatible.”
“Is that a problem?”
“For undercover work? Yes. For everything else?” I pause. “To be determined.”
His smile widens. “Go put on a bathing suit. And maybe a cover-up. We’re going somewhere.”
Ten minutes later, I’ve changed into my swimsuit and thrown a sundress over it, and Koa is driving us away from the resort in his beat-up 4Runner.
The sky is turning lavender, erasing all the coral and shifting into a vivid shade of pink before dipping toward violet.
Stars are starting to emerge like pinpricks in fabric, and the breeze carries the scent of night-blooming jasmine through the open windows.
“Where are we going?” I ask for the third time.
“Somewhere only locals know about.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer you’re getting.”
We drive north, past Hanalei, past the point where tourist traffic thins to nothing. The road narrows, red dirt shoulders giving way to jungle that presses in close. Koa turns onto what barely qualifies as a path, parks in a small clearing, and kills the engine.
“We walk from here,” he says.
The trail down is steep and rocky, carved into the hillside like someone took a machete to the vegetation and called it good enough.
Lava rocks jut out at odd angles, and the sound of waves grows louder with each step.
The balmy night air is perfumed with plumeria, and the moon winks above like it approves of naughty things to come.
Koa’s hand finds mine. “Watch your footing. Some of these rocks are loose.”
His grip is warm and steady, and I’m grateful for it because I’m wearing flip-flops on a trail that probably requires actual hiking boots and perhaps a death wish.
“If I die on this adventure,” I say, “I want it noted that I went unwillingly.”
“I thought you were a willing hostage.”
“I changed my mind,” I say as my right foot wobbles.
“Noted. But you’re not dying.”
“You sound very confident for someone leading me down a cliff in the dark.”
“It’s not a cliff. And I’ve done this a hundred times.”
Which is either reassuring or alarming depending on how the night ends.
We reach the bottom, and the view steals whatever sarcastic comeback I was formulating.
Koa nods to the aquatic wonder before us. “Welcome to the Queen’s Bath, Jinx.”
Queen’s Bath stretches before us like a natural pool carved into black lava rock, maybe thirty feet across, surrounded by walls of stone the ocean has spent far too long sculpting. The water glows faintly in the moonlight, smooth as glass, protected from the rougher surf beyond the outer rocks.
Stars peek through the darkening sky above, and the sound of waves crashing against the lava barrier creates a rhythm that feels ancient and alive.
There’s not another soul around on this hot summer night, and it’s like Kauai herself reserved the spot just for us.
“This is Queen’s Bath,” Koa says quietly, his voice softening like he’s sharing something sacred.
“It’s called that because Hawaiian royalty used to bathe here.
Only locals know when it’s safe. When the tide is right, when the swells aren’t too big.
Come at the wrong time, and the ocean will pull you right out. People have died here.”
“And you’re sure tonight is safe?”
He nods. “I checked the tide charts, the ocean conditions, and the moon phase.” His hand squeezes mine. “I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t safe.” His dimples sink in as he hooks those coffee-colored eyes to mine, and I know every word is true.
Something warm unfurls in my chest. The realization that he planned this, that he made sure I’d be safe, that he cares enough to check moon phases before kidnapping me to a potentially deadly tide pool makes my heart want to burst.
We climb down into the water, and I brace myself for the cold shock that usually comes with night swimming in the Pacific.
Instead, the water is warm.
Actually warm.
“Oh, thank goodness,” I moan. “This is amazing! I was terrified it would be freezing.”
“The lava rock absorbs heat all day,” Koa explains, sliding into the water beside me. “At night, it radiates back. It’s nature’s hot tub.”
“A hot tub made for two.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
His eyes lock on mine, catching the moonlight. “Exactly.”
He pulls me closer, and suddenly we’re floating in warm water under a blanket of stars so bright each one feels like a tiny spotlight set right over us. The ocean sings against the rocks, and I suddenly forget how to form coherent thoughts.
His chest warms mine, and I clear my throat. “We should talk about the case,” I manage.
“Should we?” His lips come ever so close to mine, and I can’t help but bite down on a smile.
“We should if Lani’s still a suspect.” I frown at him. “Her wooden spoon tested positive for peanut butter. That’s not going away.”
His expression sobers slightly. “I know. But I also know Lani. She’s not a killer.”
“She’s definitely not,” I say, blowing out a breath. “I keep thinking about what Doreen said. About Bubbles being alone in the kitchen, reorganizing everything. About the argument she overheard between Bubbles and Debbie Lee.”
“Bubbles had opportunity,” Koa agrees. “And if Debbie Lee was threatening her with something, permits, inspections, whatever it was, that’s motive.”
“But how do we prove it? How do we figure out what Debbie Lee had on her?”
“We keep digging. We talk to Bubbles. We find the evidence.” His hands settle on my waist. “But not tonight.”
“Not tonight?” I tease with a waggle of my brows. I have a feeling I know exactly what Detective Hale has on his mind, and it’s not murder. For once.
“Tonight, you’re not an amateur sleuth. You’re just Jinx. And I’m not the detective. I’m just the guy who wanted to show you something beautiful.”
My hands swim over his back as I nod. “Mission accomplished.”
We float there in the warm water, wrapped in each other’s arms as the stars multiply overhead and full darkness settles in. The ocean crashes beyond our protected pool, wild and powerful, but here we’re safe. Sheltered. Suspended in a moment that feels stolen from real life.
My heart pounds heavy over his, and I’m either going to devour the man whole or—a vision of Lani in handcuffs comes to mind, and I pull myself together.
“I’m worried about Lani,” I admit quietly. “What if the evidence keeps pointing at her? What if she ends up going to prison for something she didn’t do?”
“No one said she’s going to prison.”
“I have an active imagination.”
His mouth quirks. “I’ve noticed. It’s one of your more entertaining qualities.”
“Glad I can amuse you while contemplating my friend’s wrongful conviction.”
“Jinx.” He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. “I won’t let that happen. We’ll figure this out. Together.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
A streak of light cuts across the sky, a shooting star blazing its brief, brilliant path before disappearing, and we both gasp and give a little laugh.
“Wow, I hear that’s good luck,” I breathe, twirling a strand of his wet hair between my fingers.
“I hear this is better luck.”
Koa’s hand slides into my hair, and he kisses me.
Not the performative kiss from the therapy session. Not the quick, investigative kiss we used as a cover.
This kiss is real. Slow and deep and full of every unspoken thing we’ve been dancing around since the moment we met. His mouth moves against mine with a certainty that makes my knees forget how to function, and I’m grateful we’re in water because otherwise I’d be a puddle on the lava rocks.
He pulls me back against his chest, and the stars start flickering on overhead, one by one, as if they’re settling in to watch.
The water stays warm, the rocks stay ancient, and then his mouth finds mine again, and there’s nothing gentle about it.
It’s solid and sure and annoyingly convincing, a kiss that makes you forget your to-do list, your better judgment, and at least one murder.
When we finally come up for air, I rest my forehead against his and let the truth settle in.
Kauai didn’t just give me a resort to manage or another body to trip over. It gave me something much more dangerous.
Something worth staying alive for.