Between Hello and Goodbye(27)

“What about the shave ice?” I asked. Now that I knew the minutes with her were ticking down, I wanted all of them.

“I changed my mind,” she said.

“Okay.”

We drove in silence the entire ride back to Kapa’a. In the lot in front of her complex, I threw the car in park and faced forward.

“Your family is great,” she said after a moment. “That little Kal is a cutie. He obviously worships you. Morgan too. You’re lucky to have them.”

“Yep.”

Another silence.

“I’m going back to Seattle,” she said. “Tomorrow. I’ve decided.”

“I figured.”

“It’s better that way for both of us. You’ve done enough for me. Too much, probably. I came here to try to have some shred of independence. To stop relying on men and take care of myself for a change, but I’ve needed your help since the moment I got here.”

I wanted to tell her that needing help wasn’t the same as mooching off someone, but she was right that this was better. Better for me to get back to normalcy and better for her to get back to her life in Seattle and carve a path to self-improvement that didn’t involve me drooling all over her one minute and pushing her away the next.

“I get it,” I said, unsmiling. “You have to do what you have to do.”

“Such a manly response.” Her teasing tone fell away. “Thank you for everything, Asher.”

“No problem.”

I still couldn’t look at her but heard her little sigh. She reached for the door, stopped, then filled my space with her nearness, her warmth, and the flowery scent of her perfume.

She planted a soft kiss on my cheek. “Goodbye, firefighter.”

Too soon, the kiss was over. Faith climbed out of the Jeep and retrieved her crutches from the backseat on her own while I was immobile, sitting in the feeling of her lips on my skin. If I moved, I’d grab her or tell her to stay, and then what? Another conquest with a tourist.

She’s not that. I don’t know what she is, but she’s not that.

Faith shot me a small, parting smile and I waited until she was safely in her condo. The door closed behind her, and this time, I knew it would be locked .





Chapter Seven



I’d just started to fall asleep when the roosters cranked up.

“Perfect.”

I’d hardly slept all night, tossing and turning as much as my ankle would allow, my brain tossing and turning too. Never in my life had unsettling thoughts kept me up—I’d never let anything bother me enough to lose sleep over it. But all through the dark hours, on the eve of my escape from Kauai, a nagging feeling gnawed at me. Now dawn’s first rays were seeping into the bedroom, and I was wide awake.

I tossed the covers back and crutched to the bathroom, then the kitchen. I was getting better at it, but the rubber arm braces dug-in painfully and I still couldn’t put weight on my foot without my ankle complaining.

I made coffee and managed—slowly—to crutch it to the living area while only sloshing a teaspoon or so down my good leg. I winced at the burn but persevered and sank gratefully into the couch. The sun rose fully, and I sat feeling as if I were waiting for something. I needed to call the airline to change my flight. I needed to call a service to help wrangle my luggage. But my phone sat beside me on the couch, untouched, and I realized what I was truly waiting for was Asher Mackey to come barging through the front door.

My phone chimed a text, making me jump and nearly spilling my coffee. Again.

Ignore this if you’re busy introspecting, but wanted to say hi and check in.

I smiled and hit call.

“Hey you,” Silas answered. “How’s it going over there?”

“Oh, it’s been a journey.”

He chuckled. “Already? It’s only been four days.”

Four of the fullest days of my life, I thought and glanced longingly at the front door. Stop it.

“Faith? You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little banged up.”

I told Silas about my mishap at the Ho’opi’i Falls and subsequent helicopter ride, leaving all mention of grouchy firemen out of it.

“Damn, Faith, I’m sorry. Wait, this happened on Day One? Why didn’t you call me? How are you getting around?”

I plucked at the couch pillow. “Well, that’s a whole other story.”

I wanted to confide in him about everything. My thoughts were still a tangled mess and needed sorting. Silas could tell me what to do. He could help me…

Or you could figure this stuff out on your own.

Asher Mackey was out of my life. That was definitive. No point in rehashing more man-drama with Silas. The only thing to decide was what I was going to do with my time. With my life. Give up and go back to Seattle or stick it out and do this on my own. Without a man’s help.

The idea of staying was daunting but going back felt like defeat.

“But I’m good,” I said brightly.

“You’re good.” Silas sounded dubious.

“Yep! My ankle’s not that bad and I can’t let one little sprain ruin my whole trip. I came here to do some work on me and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Saying it out loud helped solidify my decision, and a flood of optimism filled me.