He’d walked right into that one. Rubbing his head, hot in his starchy designer suit, Everett muttered a curse. How’d he get to be the villain in this story?
The scent of grilled meat drifted to his nostrils. The sounds of laughter and chatter surrounded him. It wasn’t his scene—he was more comfortable in air-conditioned five-star restaurants—but he couldn’t deny that Kelsey would find a certain charm in a local beach party. He’d assumed she was making friends easily, but maybe that wasn’t the case.
Regret clawed at him. He didn’t agree with how she’d snuck off without telling him, but knowing Kelsey helped decorate and set up this party gave him second thoughts. Not that he was listening to Rowan. She was probably filling his daughter’s ears with nothing worthy of her attention.
But she’d laughed . . .
Kelsey stamped out, face set with misery. Her appearance suddenly struck him. She’d ditched the designer clothes and accessories. Her youthful skin held a natural glow. She was dressed in a sea-green T-shirt advertising the surf shop. Her hair was pulled back in a casual tie.
She looked like his daughter again, before life snatched her innocence.
His throat tightened with emotion. She stopped before him, waiting to follow.
He broke. “We can stay to eat, but I’m still not happy with the stunt you pulled. From now on, you check in with me if you go somewhere. Deal?”
Her smile returned. She was so beautiful it tore at his heart. “Deal. Thanks, Dad.”
She gave him a hard squeeze and then ran back, shouting, “I can stay!”
Everett shook his head and made his way toward the grill. Might as well grab dinner himself.
He’d just make sure to keep away from Rowan.
Chapter Five
Rowan tried not to glance over at Kelsey’s father.
He was just as jerky as she’d imagined. At least he’d allowed his daughter to stay, even if he was clearly not happy about it. She saw the way his lip practically curled in disdain when he looked at her. His obvious judgment of her clothes and the casual atmosphere brimmed with arrogance. Everett thought he was better because he had money, wore a designer suit, and believed his job made him smart.
But she’d seen plenty of his type. Men who left their lavish city life to build tourist hotels that were crippling their ecosystem. Rowan burned with outrage at the way these executives treated the island—tearing it up to serve vacationers cocktails and overpopulated beaches without care. When the job was done, they flew back home without another thought to the damage left behind. Most hotels talked a good game about wanting to blend with the locals, but after the publicity died down, not much changed. Tourism was a necessary evil, and Waikiki relied on the income, but there was rarely much respect for the locals.
Oh, yes, she knew Everett Hale well. Underneath the polished surface lay a cardboard soul. Flat. Boring. Predictable. One good wave could rattle him and then he’d be on her level, with no way to use his money to survive.
“What are you thinking about?” Tino asked. He worked the grill like a master, the tongs an extension of his fingers. Rows of chicken and steak seasoned with pineapple and mango sauce smoked delicious scents.
Rowan grabbed a plate and took some chicken. “The suit,” she said carelessly. “He looks ridiculous.”
The image of him marching over the sand in those expensive leather shoes kept replaying in her mind. Instead of sliding or stumbling, he evoked an aura of power that made her stop to watch his progress. She’d ducked her head when he got closer so he wouldn’t catch her staring.
The sleek charcoal suit was classic, along with the narrow pink tie, his only nod to the islands. His body was the typical executive type—hard muscles from the gym, lean strength from eating clean protein without indulgence, and an air of superiority from believing he was better. At least his face was a bit more interesting. His nose was slightly crooked, setting off the perfect chiseled jawline that only Barbie’s friend Ken owned. His lips hinted at fullness, but he’d have to relax them enough to smile for Rowan to confirm. Charcoal hair was thick with a bit of a wave, but he’d cut it too short to allow the curl. His eyes were dark—so dark she wondered if his pupils were dilated to swallow up any rim of color. When he trained his gaze on her, shivers crept down her spine.
Not from attraction. From irritation. He was too much. Too good looking, too smug, and too cardboard to be Kelsey’s father. Kelsey was interesting—full of color and edges—on the verge of claiming her vision in life.
Everett was already a lost cause. What a pity.
Tino glanced over to study Everett with curiosity. “Hmm. Did you give him a hard time?”
She grinned and moved on to grab salad. “Maybe.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure he’s doing the best he can. Not easy being a single father.”
“Mine did it. And he was amazing.”
Tino’s eyes shone with understanding but no pity. It was a quality that made her comfortable enough to mention her father. Usually, the topic was too raw. “Yes, he was. But we know his journey. The ocean spoke to him and gave him a true north. He had you, but also us. A makeshift family.”
She tipped her chin but didn’t say anything, the memories tumbling over her. If he were here, he’d be working the grill, trading lighthearted banter, and sharing stories around the campfire while they toasted marshmallows. Her father had been a respected pillar of the surfing community, but it was his other roles that had carved a place in everyone’s hearts.
A great father. A loyal friend. A leader who cared.
