Page 45 of Until You

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” His sigh mingles and melds with the sounds of the ocean lapping at the boat’s hull as he crosses the distance to me. He reaches out and pulls me against him, resting his chin on my head. This is where I belong, where I fit best, and I hate feeling like something is between us when I don’t know what it is.

“I think I need to record that so I can replay it,” I say, the words muffled from my cheek pressed against his chest as I soak in everything about him. “It’s not often Kaleo Makani admits wrongdoing.”

“Just this once,” he murmurs, the heat of his breath hitting the crown of my head. “Look, I apologize. It was selfish and arrogant of me to pull you away from your students, but you’re right, there have been problems. Ships aren’t arriving on time. Clients are angry over it. The union is threatening to strike. The truckers are down our necks since they’re losing time waiting for the cargo. Then there are issues with the warehouses in Los Angeles. To say it’s been a shitshow is an understatement.”

And now I feel like the asshole for not knowing this. For being so busy with my own passion that I haven’t been paying attention to the details and the problems that weigh on him. Not that he normally says much. He’s been so adamant since we married to “leave work at the office” so to speak. Perhaps that’s why I’ve struggled over the last few months. He’s been so . . . distracted.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

He shushes my apologies by pressing his lips to mine in a possessive kiss that I love. My nipples harden as the ache between my thighs begins to burn. Kaleo knows this. He knows what he does to me, so when he pulls up the hem of my skirt to dip into the wetness there, he hums in appreciation.

“How could you have known?” Another kiss. “I needed you here with me. I wanted you here with me.” His fingers rub ever so gently. “Thank you for playing the part. For throwing the parties. For helping me make it seem like everything is perfectly under control. People are watching, always watching, and if you’re here, then they know everything is okay.”

“Kal—there are people downstairs. Don’t you need to deal with them first?” Say no, please say no. Your touch is magic.

“What people?” he teases, my breath catching as he tucks a finger into me, the heel of his hand rubbing at my clit. He chuckles against my lips, and it rumbles through me. “Let me finish what I need to finish and then I’ll make it up to you. Tonight. You know I make good on my promises.”

I nod, my breath stolen temporarily as he makes me forget about the many guests and the possibility of being caught, and shows me more hints of exactly what he’s promising. And I know from experience he definitely makes good on them. “Okay. Fine. Yes.”

“There’s my girl.” His lips find mine again as my body aches for more of his touch. “I’ll wake you when I come to bed, yes?” He presses a kiss to my forehead and smirks in the way only he can. “Until then, rest up because you’re going to need it.”

He walks back to the table, picks up his phone, and then disappears around the side of the boat where the stairs lead to the decks below and no doubt the bodyguards waiting to follow close behind.

It took some time, but I’ve gotten used to the bodyguards. To Kaleo’s paranoia over certain things. To the gun he often carries with him for protection. They all went hand in hand after I took the Makani last name when I married Kaleo and his shipping magnate family. When money was no object, but threats were a constant.

And my safety, my protection, is something that Kaleo takes with the utmost seriousness. Nothing is worth risking you, Ku’uipo. My sweetheart. That’s what he calls me in his native language, and it makes me smile, every time, without fail.

I glance over the railing and watch as Kaleo rejoins the party. His first step is toward his right-hand man, Rangi. They put their heads together for a beat, deep in discussion, before Kaleo steps back with a nod and heads toward the main group of our guests. The second he steps up to their circle, their body language changes immediately. Even after three years with Kaleo, it still marvels me, Tessa Miller, from a map dot town in Oregon, how the aura of money and power makes others react without question. Like how the men I’m currently watching give my husband the respect he demands and the attention someone of his authority requires without question.

All while I stand up here and get butterflies over the sight of and thought of him.

Is that why I stand here and watch their interaction I can see but not hear? Because while I’m pissed at him for pulling me away from my students at a crucial part of the course, I’m still hoping he can fix whatever needs to be fixed so we can salvage some of this time together. So we can enjoy each other without the worry that has been interfering over the past months.

“Mrs. Makani?”

I jump at the sound of one of the bodyguard’s voices. “Yes, Carlo?”

“Mr. Makani wanted me to bring this to you.” He moves across the deck with a glass in hand.

“What is it?”

He shrugs. “Just a little something to help you relax. To take the edge off, I believe were his words.”

I peer into the glass. Another one of Kaleo’s guava juice and rum drinks, most likely with a muscle relaxer dissolved into it. I appreciate my husband’s thoughtfulness, but that’s the last thing I want right now.

“Thank you,” I say, but Carlo remains standing there. “Yes?”

“He told me to bring back the empty glass.”

What? I chuckle. “Thanks, but I can manage my own dishes.” And yet he remains standing there, legs spread, hands clasped in front, staring at me.

“Christ,” I mutter. “I’ll be right back.” I stalk to our stateroom, irritated by Kaleo’s want for control over all things for some reason when normally it doesn’t bug me so much. Within seconds, I have the drink poured down the drain and am marching back to Carlo. “Happy?” I grit out.

His face is impassive when he meets my eyes. “I’m just doing my job, ma’am.”

“Yes. I know. I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “I love the man to death, but sometimes he drives me crazy.”

That comment gets a slight smirk from Carlo as he takes the glass from me. “Couldn’t agree more.”