Page 44 of Until You

“It is.” He turns on his heel to walk down my driveway and calls over his shoulder, “Good night, Tenny.”

“Good night, Crew.”

He whistles as he walks, and you bet your ass I watch him until I can’t see him anymore with a goofy grin on my lips and my head in the clouds.

Crew kissed me.

Whew.

Third time is a charm, I guess.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Tennyson / Tessa

Four Years Earlier

“Tessa.” Kaleo’s tone is one I’ve never heard him use before with me—more threat than warning—and it stops me in my tracks.

I stare at him, quite the picture against the dark night sky. His eyes glint and hands clench and unclench.

The party continues on the decks below us. The music is loud and the laughter even more so. I can’t help but feel like it’s all a ruse. That something is going on. The same something that has made me feel so uneasy over the past few days.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s just work, Ku’uipo. I know you’re tired. Why don’t you go to bed?”

Chills chase the length of my spine, but they have nothing to do with the cool breeze coming off the ocean. His words may be a question, but they are definitely a demand.

He no longer wants me at the party.

So many things from the past few months flash through my mind. The late-night meetings. The constant phone calls he needs privacy to take. His sudden need to be back in Hawaii more than our penthouse in San Francisco.

The agitation and stress that never seems to lift from his shoulders.

Most women would fear that her husband was having an affair. They’d say I’m naïve in thinking he wasn’t. Not me. Not with Kaleo. We have a bond that is indescribable. One that was forged the night we met and that hasn’t stopped in the three years we’ve been together.

“No,” I say.

Anger flashes in his eyes. If there is one thing my husband doesn’t like, it’s being disobeyed by his employees.

But I’m not his employee.

I’m his wife.

And I want answers.

“Tessa,” he says as he types something on his phone before setting it down on the table beside him. I now have his undivided attention. Something I haven’t had all day. “I need to finish up some business. Have some conversations with my guests downstairs before the night grows too long, before they drink too much, and before they leave.”

“You control the tenders back to the shore, so I don’t think they’ll be going anywhere until you say so.”

“Now is not the time to be difficult,” he says. “Please give me the time to do what I need to do.”

“What’s wrong this time?” I ask, the beads on my dress causing reflections to shine on the yacht’s deck all around me as I throw my hands up. My patience and curiosity have been exhausted. “The shipments aren’t on time and your customers are pissed?” Isn’t this the same excuse he’s been giving me over and over the past few months? “What’s the excuse as to why you tore me away from the studio without any notice and demanded that I be here? With you. If I’m here to schmooze or keep up pretenses for your clients at these ridiculous parties, the least you can do is tell me the truth. But no, you want to send me off to bed like an errant child. I’m your wife.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose in an obvious show of frustration. But I’ve been patient long enough. “You’ve thrown one hell of a party here tonight. Thank you.”

“That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”