She shoved a handful of thick blond hair from her face and finally glanced up.
Seeing him for the first time, her gaze widened and her jaw fell open. Then she smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Shari.”
“McGarren.”
She used his grip to pull herself to her feet then didn’t let go. “Did anybody ever tell you you look like that action-movie actor The Rock?”
“No.”
“Well, you do. And he’s sooo hot!”
“Uh-huh.” She thought comparing him to some random movie star was going stroke his ego? Thanks but no thanks. Still, The Rock? He hid a smile.
Kye lowered his goggles. “You need to get back and change before a chill sets in.”
She touched his arm again. “How about you come along and warm me up?”
Ignoring her, he pointed at the snowplow two EMTs had pulled up. “They’ll take care of you.”
After a quick conversation with the EMTs, Kye put on his skis, scooped up Lily, and headed for the bottom of the slope.
This assignment wasn’t working out as he’d planned. He was here to relax. Sort of. A working vacation. The only kind he allowed himself. Too much time on his hands gave him time to think about what might be missing from his life. That’s why he kept busy.
Four years ago he and Oliver Kelly, an Aussie with an appetite for adventure and a keen understanding of K-9 dogmanship, had formed a professional search-and-rescue company. They named it BAR K-9s, short for Bolt Action Rescue K-9 Service. Everyone quickly shortened it to BARKS.
They managed more than two dozen teams of K-9 handlers and dogs who worked every sort of search and rescue, from natural and man-made disasters to war zone recovery and jobs where local law enforcement needed additional expertise in tracking and rescue. Even ski patrol. Whatever kept them in the black.
At the end of his shift, Kye returned to his room and stripped out of his ski gear, every major muscle group protesting the day’s effort. Within minutes he was settled into the liquid heat of his personal hot tub laced with a muscle soak that smelled of birch bark. “Ah, sweet.”
A huff answered his sigh of contentment. Lily watched him from the doorway with her head kicked over. That was her puzzled look. As much as she liked streams, ponds, and snow, she didn’t understand the use of water when it was hot and bubbly. On the other hand, she saw nothing wrong with making a snack out of his worn skivvies. A pair of them hung from her mouth.
“Lil-lee.” Kye stretched out her name for emphasis. “Drop it. Now.”
She looked away, mouthing the tighty whities a few more times before unhinging her jaw and letting the soggy material drop to the floor.
It was her only fault. Lily was mouthy.
Kye decided her fondness for his undies was a form of affection. He’d never met a woman who wanted to chew his drawers. Well, except for that one time. In his thirty-six years, he’d met some wild women.
He picked up and tossed Lily one of the chew toys he kept lying around as preferable to his personal items. “Good girl. Out.”
Lily picked it up, glancing at him reproachfully before turning tail and walking out.
“And don’t chew my socks or tee or … anything.” He leaned back and stretched both muscular arms along the rim of the tub to let the heated bubbles work the kinks out. The warmth of the water reminded him of home.
Hawaii born and bred, his full name was Kekoa Alena Maleko McGarren. Kye for short. He’d spent his childhood seeking and riding the smooth rolling curl of a perfect wave. Skiing had its pleasures. Surfing was riding barefoot on the back of a sea god.
He loved nothing better than the feel of a wave beneath his board, undulating like a live thing. Crouched with his arms wide, he felt like a tern swooping along on the flow of a sea breeze. Salt on his lips. The sting of seawater in his eyes. The caress of the wind on his sun-bronzed shoulders. Life didn’t get any better.
He opened his eyes and squinted at the bubbling water surrounding him. What the fuck was he doing here when he could be stretched out over the warm undulating body of a smiling wahine who tasted of sea salt and sunshine?
*
The sound of Hawaiian drummers woke him from a dream of warm salt breezes and a nighttime family beach luau with a perfectly roasted pig wrapped in banana leaves that had just been dug up from its sandy pit.
The smell of imaginary roasted pork lingered as he jabbed the ANSWER button on his phone without bothering to check caller ID. “Yeah?”
“Battise here.”
Kye jerked fully awake at the sound of Law’s voice. They’d served together in the military police CID overseas but hadn’t exchanged a word in years. “I knew I should have turned over instead of answering.”
“This isn’t a social call, McGarren.”
Kye sat up and rubbed his eyes. His ex-buddy’s tone was professional, and distancing. Better that way. “Okay. Shoot.”