Heat Wave

I look down at my hands. “I know it would look bad. That’s why we’re keeping it a secret and why you have to too.”


“And you’re just going to hide this forever? That won’t work. Believe me. People are already talking about how weird Logan has gotten lately, being all nice and smiling and shit like that. He wasn’t even like that with Juliet, and people are going to start putting two and two together.”

I get up, needing a shower badly and a good night’s sleep. “Well until they start adding things up, this is under wraps. Promise you won’t say a word.”

“I promise,” she says.

I hope for our sake she keeps it.





Despite Kate knowing our lurid secret, Logan and I grow closer. Or maybe it’s because of it, I don’t know. After Kate found out, I told Logan right away. He didn’t seem as concerned about the whole thing, not like I was, maybe because she’s on his payroll and because of that, he knows she’s not going to sell us out in the name of hot gossip.

It’s also made it a bit easier for us to sneak around. The last week or so has reminded me of that episode of Friends when Joey finds out about Chandler and Monica, and though we’re not quite that terrible, it is nice to have her cover our asses from time to time.

Like tonight. It’s my day off and Logan has officially asked me on a proper date. He wants to take me to a beachfront restaurant down in Kapa’a where no one will know our names. I have a hard time believing that, but at least it’s away from the prying eyes of the north shore.

And it’s a date. Frankly, I’m fucking giddy. I get to dress up for once. No more uniform or apron, no flip-flops and cut off shorts and trucker hats.

I take my time selecting my most elegant and sexiest dress – a strapless maxi in jade green – and pull my hair back so it’s high on my head, borrowing Kate’s curling iron to add some oomf to a few strands I’ve left loose in an artful way. I do a dusting of golden highlighter over my cheekbones and some peachy blush and enough mascara to let my eyes do the flirting. And, naturally, I’m not wearing any underwear. I’ve discovered I have an aversion to them whenever Logan is around (and his tendency to rip them off is leaving me with less and less).

Of course the trickiest part of any of this is getting to Logan’s since he can’t pick me up from the parking lot at work (that would be a huge tip-off), so I sneak around the complex, heading down the beach and toward Tunnels before I cut inland toward Logan’s house.

The moment I reach his driveway he steps out of the house.

Holy moly.

I mean, hell does he ever look fine. Black pants, a grey polo shirt that shows off just how hard he works those muscles. He looks like sex on a stick.

“How did I get so lucky?” I ask loudly as I open the gate and start down the path toward him.

He watches me in silence, running his hand over his beard, his eyes trailing up and down my body in amazement as I stop in front of him.

“Well?” I ask. “What do you think?”

He gives a slight shake of his head, licks his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want to skip the dinner and just eat in instead? Because, Freckles, I could eat you all night long. Every god damn inch of your body.”

It’s tempting, I have to admit it. But it was only a few nights ago that I made the signature Ohana Mahi Mahi in his kitchen, and even though another night of sex is always worth it, I really want to go out and be with the rest of the world.

“I would rather show you off,” I tell him as I run my hands down the front of his chest and kiss him softly on the lips.

“Can’t say I feel the same way,” he says against my mouth. “You’re for my eyes only, especially when you look like that.” His hand drifts down over my backside, giving my ass a firm squeeze. He groans. “Commando, too.” He pulls away, gives me a pleading look. “I promise I’ll be five minutes.”

“Let’s go,” I tell him with a smirk. “You said the reservation was for six, right? I want to catch the sunset.”

With a whimper, he grabs my hand and leads me to the Jeep. As we drive past Moonwater, I keep low and ducked over in my seat, just in case, and Logan laughs. “Believe it or not, I just saw Charlie in the parking lot. He would have the gums flapping if he’d seen you.” He pats my hand. “You’re safe now.”

I lift my head and look around warily. “I feel like I’m being smuggled.”

“People only smuggle what’s valuable. There isn’t much more precious than you.”

I give him a shy look. “Why, you’re spouting poetry already. So far this date is living up to its expectations.”