Heat Wave

I pat him on the back. “Look, we’re allowed to have time off every now and then.”


He grumbles something and shoves some kind of miniature Spam roll in his mouth. “At least the Spam still tastes like Spam.”

Hawaiians and their Spam, I’ll never quite understand it.

“Aloha, ladies,” Dan says, coming over to us with two drinks in his hands. His hair is loose tonight, to his shoulders which is a change, and his Hawaiian shirt is more understated than usual, peach and grey tones. On his head is one of the plastic top hats. “Brought you some drinks.”

“Aye,” Johnny says while we take the drinks from Dan, “where’s my drink?”

“Let me guess, you wanted a martini, shaken not stirred.”

“Who the fuck stirs a martini?”

He follows Daniel back to the bar grumbling all the way.

It’s not long before the rest of the staff enters the room, followed by some of the guests. Everyone looks great, happy to be here and dressed up for the occasion. But I’m still waiting for Logan, briefly wondering if he’d come in a tuxedo too and if he did, what exactly would he look like and where the hell could we escape to for a quick screw because that shit would be like kryptonite to me.

And then he appears. Not in a tuxedo, but in black pants and a black dress shirt, a loose grey tie around his neck. I should have figured he wouldn’t be going for a suit. One of my first thoughts about the man was how uncomfortable he looked in one.

He sees me from across the room and our eyes lock in a wordless gaze. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smile and he nods. I do the same, watching as he enters the restaurant and starts greeting the guests one by one, offering them his gorgeous smile.

I love watching him work like this. For all his broodiness and quiet mannerisms and, well, inclination to be grumpy, he’s actually really good at what he does. He cares about the guests here, more now than when I first started, and is personally invested in how they are doing. It’s no longer just to make money, to stay afloat. It’s because he actually is concerned and wants them to be happy.

And when they’re happy, he’s happy. So many nights I’ve stayed up with him at his house going over the budget and reports and the feedback from the guests, and he’s giving everything he has to not only keep the business alive but to keep it moving forward. He wants to take what he had with Juliet and he wants to improve upon it, bit by bit.

And he wants to improve upon it with me. Not in so many words, but he’s hinted at my career long-term here. Becoming partners in the place. In having it more than just my job.

I honestly don’t know what to think. I don’t want to get ahead of myself and I don’t want to jinx anything, because running Moonwater with him would be a beautiful dream. But we’ve been good about not talking too much about the future. We’ve just been enjoying being in love and that alone is a lot to handle (in the best way) before we start making those kind of plans.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. I do. And every single thought I have of the future always comes back to him. He’s my people, my heart, my home. He’s my world and reason for everything and I don’t ever want anything different.

“He’s really changed,” Kate says in a low voice. I’d forgotten she was standing next to me to be honest, lost in my Logan-induced daze.

“Yeah,” I agree quietly.

“I mean it,” she says. “The place has never been better. I’d like to thank you for that. Love has fueled him well. He’s connected to this place, to this island again. The aloha spirit. For a while there he was lost from all of this.” She nudges me in the side. “If you wouldn’t mind telling him to pass that aloha spirit onto me though, that would be great. I could use a raise.”

I give her a wry look. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Soon the restaurant is pretty much packed, a few more guests showing up than we had planned but everyone is having a great time. The catered food is just fine – sorry, Johnny – and Dan’s drinks are keeping us all loose and lubricated.

“How are you doing?” Logan asks, coming over to me and Charlie while we mow down on coconut shrimp.

“Great party,” Charlie says, munching away. Even he’s managed to dress up – a white and red Hawaiian shirt and dark pants, his normally spiky hair smoothed into a mini pompadour. “Though I’m waiting for someone to get wild.”

“It’s still early,” Logan says, checking his watch. “Another two hours, then we’ll see.” He raises his glass at me. “Aren’t you drinking, Freckles?”

I look around. “I put my glass down somewhere, not sure what happened to it.”

“What are you having?”

“The champagne punch.”

He nods, a small smile on his lips. “Coming right up.”

As he turns and walks over to the drinks, I take a moment to admire his firm ass as it disappears into the crowd.

I can feel Charlie’s eyes on me. He clears his throat.