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MINUTES LATER, THEY WERE ZOOMING DOWN THE COASTAL HIGHWAY,

though Cal had to pinch himself to check if it was real or the dream he’d used so often to remain sane. But those really were Cynthia’s arms around his waist, and that really was her chin resting on his shoulder.

For the first mile, she tried to keep some distance between their bodies, exactly as she had after her car had broken down on the side of the road in the Adirondacks. But trying not to touch was hopeless, and they both knew it. For one thing, the angle of the seat made her body slide against his. And old habits were hard to break, even if they pretended not to think about the intimacy they had once shared.

Eventually, Cynthia gave in to the inevitable, and her arms grew ever more comfortable around his waist. Cal wished the ride to town were longer so he could stretch out that glorious feeling. He couldn’t see the long, silky strands of her black hair whipping in the wind, but he could sense all that movement back there. All that excitement too. Cynthia felt it. He felt it. And damn, it was almost like they had a third passenger: destiny.

A thousand scents bombarded him as they buzzed along – some exotic, some familiar. The rose-and-willow scent of Cynthia’s skin blended with that of giant pink flowers that grew on the side of the road. A green bird flitted by, brighter than any animal Cal had ever seen. The Triumph cruised past two young guys in a beat-up old Toyota with a pair of surfboards sticking out the back. It was as if all of Maui was trying to cheer him up, saying, Hey, you’re in Hawaii now. Hang loose, man.

Then, out of nowhere, Cynthia motioned to a beach park on the right. “Pull over.”

Cal glanced back, wondering why she had tensed up. But he did as he was told and pulled into the parking lot. Then he turned expectantly.

Cynthia’s face was etched with worry lines, and her eyes were downcast when she whispered, “We have to talk.”

The surfers cruised their Toyota into the parking lot just as Cynthia said talk, and for a moment, Cal had the crazy impulse to pretend he hadn’t heard. Talking was scary, because words were tied to emotions, and behind them loomed a mountain of hurt.

But Cynthia motioned him to move the bike a little farther along, stopping under one of those picture-perfect palm trees that featured on postcards. The kind with happy lovers under the swaying fronds, not couples who had been ripped apart then thrown back together by a tempest called fate.

“We have to talk,” she said again.

Briefly, Cal considered reminding her about picking up Joey. But that would be a cheap ploy to avoid a talk, and Cynthia was right. They needed this. So when she slid off one side of the bike, he dismounted off the other. That left the bike standing silently between them, representing the wall that had grown up between them over the years.

Her lips quivered, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. He cupped her face, brushing it away with his thumb.

“I’m so confused,” Cynthia whispered. Then she bit her lip and looked him in the eye. “Why?”

He tilted his head. Why what? “You said you loved me.”

Cal gave a jerk of a nod. “Of course I do.”

Oops. He’d meant to say I did — past tense.

Cynthia’s eyes flashed with dozens of emotions, all mixing and colliding the way his were.

“I can understand why you left. I had to marry Barnaby, and I told you to go. But…” Her voice faltered, and her eyes burned with tears. “But when I heard you went off with Sheila…”

Cal’s mind spun. What was she talking about? “How could you?” Cynthia blurted.

“How could I what?”

Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say, because Cynthia’s eyes sparked in anger.

“I was forced to accept Barnaby. But no one forced you to head straight into the arms of another woman the minute you left me.”

Whoa. He stuck a hand on the Triumph’s fuel tank while the world around him spun. Cynthia thought he’d gone off with some other woman? Why would he do that?

“I…what?” Anger boiled up in him, and sentiments he’d never meant to utter came bubbling out. “You were the one who married another guy. Do you know what that did to me, knowing you were with someone else? Night after night…” He trailed off because the thought made him sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have come to Maui, after all.

“It wasn’t night after night.” Cynthia glared.

“It was twelve years. Twelve.” Cal snorted. “And you’re accusing me of going off with someone one time?” He was going to add that he’d done no such thing, but Cynthia cut in.

“Believe me, Barnaby was about as enthusiastic about mating as I was.

We had separate bedrooms. Separate lives.”

Cal made a face. “And that’s how Joey came about, I suppose?”

She glared. “I slept with Barnaby twice, Cal. Twice in nine years. And believe me, it was all business. Business that made me feel sick. Ashamed.”

“Right. Like any guy married to you would be fine with just once or twice. There’s no need to make Barnaby into a goddamned saint.”

“I never said he was a saint.” “Then what are you saying?”

She paused as if on the cusp of some great secret, her eyes darting from side to side. Then she leaned in to whisper.

“Barnaby was gay, Cal. Gay.”

The words rang through Cal’s mind, but somehow, he couldn’t quite grasp their meaning. “What?”

She looked around again as if a member of her nutty family might be eavesdropping. “I said, Barnaby was gay.”

“Gay?”

Cal’s jaw dropped. He would never, ever have guessed. But suddenly, it made sense. A slightly older dragon who’d put off mating as long as he could, even when it came to a woman as desirable as Cynthia. A man who’d only touched her to do what the family line required.

“It was just as hard for him as it was for me,” Cynthia said, choking up again. “But he was good to me. And he was a great father. He loved Joey more than anything.” Cynthia looked as if she might cry, but she straightened her shoulders and composed herself. “I hated what I had to do. But no one forced you to take off with another woman. We promised we would always keep our love alive even if we couldn’t be together. Why did you break your word?”

Cal nearly yelled in protest. But the past decade had taught him a lot, like when to keep his mouth shut and think.

“I didn’t go off with anybody,” he said at last. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cynthia scowled. “You deny it?”

He just looked at her, letting his eyes do the talking. He’d never, ever touched another woman after meeting Cynthia. He’d never been the slightest bit tempted to do so. Why would he? Cynthia was his mate. There was no one else for him, and there never would be.

Cynthia searched his face, and when she spoke, the hard edge of her voice had faded slightly. “Sheila. They told me you went off to Sheila.”

Finally, a lightbulb went off in Cal’s head. “My aunt? Yeah, I did head down to visit her after you said goodbye. Way down in Georgia, just to get away.”

Cynthia gaped. “Your aunt? But… They told me…” “Who told you?”

Cynthia’s eyes wandered over the beach, but he could tell her mind was on the past, grasping at foggy memories. “I asked my cousins to find you and pass on a message. To tell you how much I loved you, one more time. But they came back, saying you’d gone off to a woman named Sheila.”

“And you believed them? You jumped to the conclusion that there was someone else?”

For a moment, Cal teetered on the razor’s edge of fury and forgiveness.

How could Cynthia believe such a thing?

But he finally had a chance to talk to the woman he loved — maybe even a chance to patch things up. So he held his breath and counted to ten before speaking again.

“Who told you that?”

“My cousins.” Cynthia tapped her fingers as she thought. “Presley and… Presley and…” Realization flashed over her face as her voice broke off.

“Presley and Moira.”

The name came out like poison, and Cal recoiled. “Moira? And you believed that, coming from her?”

Cynthia paled. “I always thought Presley was okay. And Moira…” The fingers tapping on her arm took on the distinctive curve of talons as her dragon side showed. “Moira was different back then.” She made a face. “Or maybe she wasn’t. Maybe I just hadn’t realized how cruel she was at that point.”

Cruel didn’t begin to describe Moira. The woman was evil – pure evil. But if Cal really thought about Cynthia’s story, it made sense. Back then, Moira hadn’t started her steep rise to power. No one could have predicted she would become anything more than a nasty third cousin the family tended to ignore.

Cynthia hugged herself tightly, but that didn’t hide the tremble in her arms. “At the time, the only thing that stuck in my mind was that you’d gone off to see a woman. I didn’t think about who told me that.”

“Well, I guess they weren’t exactly lying. I did go visit my aunt Sheila.” “The way they said it was a lie. And God, I believed it.” Cynthia’s

shoulders crumpled. “It’s my fault. God, it’s all my fault.”

Cal figured he could agree with Cynthia and make things worse, or he could reach deep down and be a man about it all. He went with the latter, coming around the bike to wrap his arms around Cynthia while she shook and cried. Every muscle in his body worked at it — holding Cynthia tight but not too tight, all the while wishing he could strangle Moira. But there was a time and a place for everything, and this was the time to hold his mate.

My love, his wolf whispered again and again.

For the past decade, he’d lived in a cloud of hurt and hate. Holding Cynthia didn’t make the pain go away, but his anger receded, at least for a

while. It was a little like when he’d first arrived on Maui – disembarking the plane, feeling all that sunshine. That nice, warm temperature, working its way to his core.

“Cal,” Cynthia whispered, stroking his chest.

The surfers had to have been on their fourth or fifth wave by the time Cynthia stopped crying. But, hell. Cal didn’t care how long it took. He could stand there holding her all day. But then the reason they’d set out hit him, and he stiffened.

“Joey…”

Cynthia wiped her eyes, still sniffling. “Oh God. I’m such a bad mother.”

Cal shook his head. “Don’t you say that. I’ve seen you with him. You’re a great mother, Cynthia. All that cuddling, all those bedtime stories…”

He shut up before she caught onto the fact that he had always been nearby, protecting them both. So near, yet so far.

He cleared his throat gruffly and turned to the bike. “Anyway, you’re right. We ought to get him.”

Cynthia studied him too closely for comfort. But finally, she wiped her face and nodded. “God. I’m a mess.”

He tipped her chin up and flashed a weak smile. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Their eyes locked, and a slideshow of every moment he had ever shared with Cynthia, good and bad, flashed through his mind. And not only that, but images of a future he never thought he would have. Dangerous territory, in other words.

Quickly, before he got all mushy on her — or worse, kissed her, because who knew where that might lead — he slid onto the bike and kicked the engine to life. Then he nodded her onto the back, having had all the talking one lone wolf could handle for a while. Thankfully, Cynthia mounted in one

practiced move, and a moment later, they were humming down the highway with her hanging on even more snugly than before.

Just like old times, his wolf whispered, tempting him to hope. To dream.

To have his heart broken all over again?

Cal took a deep breath and pretended to concentrate on the road.

LAHAINA WASN’T FAR ENOUGH TO ALLOW CAL’S HEART TO SETTLE DOWN

again but, hell. They would need to cross an entire continent for that.

He slowed, passing the town limits sign, and followed Cynthia’s directions when the road forked. Before long, they were cruising down Front Street, the main drag of the historic town. Rows of two-story buildings lined the sidewalks, each painted a different color. Cynthia waved him into a parking space and motioned up at a green building with a balcony along the upper floor. An old-fashioned wooden sign hung over the sidewalk identifying The Lucky Devil and pointed upstairs.

The sign was decorated with a skull and crossbones, with a pair of red horns drawn on the skull. Cal raised his eyebrows in a question, but Cynthia just sighed.

“You’ll see.”

Chase stood at the door, doing a good job of flashing an expression that any man would interpret as Don’t even think about messing around in here and any woman would read as You’ll be safe with us. And though his face registered surprise at the sight of Cal and Cynthia, Chase let them both in without a word.

The creaky wooden stairs and malty aroma reminded Cal of one of the more questionable bars he’d brought Cynthia to once upon a time, where they had headed to a room upstairs, giggling and sweaty after an hour of dancing, ready for a little one-on-one.

Cynthia stumbled over the next stair, caught herself, and glanced back at him, blushing deeply. Cal hid a grin. Apparently, she remembered too.

He steadied her, and they continued upstairs. The corridor was dim, but the sunshine flooding in from above beckoned them on, as did the scent of frying bacon.

His wolf licked its lips. I like it already.

A bright, bubbly woman met them at the door with a menu. “Welcome to the Lucky Devil.” Her voice faltered. “Oh — hi, Cynthia.” Then she spotted Cal, and her voice dropped to a low, sultry purr. “And hello to you too.”

“Hello, Candy.” Cynthia stepped past the hostess, pulling Cal by the hand.

Cal was glad Cynthia’s firm grip gave him the excuse to hurry past the hostess — one of those overeager women who was already undressing him with her eyes. He turned his arm slightly, making sure she got a good look at his scars. Unfortunately, Candy didn’t seem turned off. On the contrary, she scurried after him.

“Can I get you a table? You’ve still got half an hour to catch brunch.” “We’re just here to pick up Joey.” Cynthia’s tone said Go away in bold

and underlined. Then her eyes fixed on someone at the bar, and her gaze softened to one mothers reserved for their offspring.

“Joey…”

Cal scanned the funky bar. Colorful signal flags hung from the rafters, and black-and-white photos of Lahaina’s frontier days decorated the walls. The pirate/devil theme was everywhere, but not as overdone as it might have been. And the view — well, wow. The Lucky Devil stood right at the edge of the ocean, and all that turquoise water was a sight to behold.

Dell was behind the bar, jabbering a mile a minute and flashing his trademark grin. His hands moved in a blur, juggling five or six glasses while he told a long-winded joke. Joey was perched on one of the stools at the end of the bar, listening to a grizzled fisherman spin a yarn.

Cynthia’s breath caught, and Cal saw all the terrible images her mind conjured up. The old man had to be an alcoholic, regaling Joey with all kinds of inappropriate stories, right?

He tightened his grip on her hand, reminding her to keep her composure as she rushed forward.

“Joey,” she called in a voice laced with fake calm. “Mommy!” The little redhead waved.

Cal followed as Cynthia strode up to the pair, crossing her arms to give the old man a clear signal that Mama Bear was there and on high alert. But her steps slowed as she got close, and her expression changed from one of anxiety to surprise.

“Bruce is teaching me checkers,” Joey announced.

Warmth crept back into Cynthia’s eyes, because Joey was fine. And Bruce, despite haggard features that spoke of a few too many drinking binges over the years, appeared to be on his best behavior for the kid.

“He’s a quick learner, this one.” Bruce patted Joey on the back. “Beat me twice already.”

Cynthia’s eyes scanned the area, no doubt searching for evidence of gambling or some other sin. But it truly was just checkers. A perfectly harmless, innocent game. And hey, Joey seemed to be having a good time.

“Hiya, Cynth,” Dell called, making her cringe. “Cynthia,” she sighed, drawing out each of the syllables.

Dell went on without taking notice. “Nice to see you. We’ve been having a great time. Right, Joey?”

Joey jerked his head up and down like one of those wobbly toys people kept in their cars, making Cal’s heart melt. Such a good kid. If only he could have a little more freedom.

Kill Moira, his wolf snarled. Fulfill the prophecy. Give the boy the freedom he needs.

Cynthia glanced over as if she sensed the dark cloud that slid over his mind.

Forget that stupid prophecy, he told his wolf.

Just because an old woman had seen a vision when he was born didn’t mean it was the real thing. Him, ridding the world of some great evil? He’d be happy just to keep Cynthia and Joey safe.

Dell pointed around. “Look. Joey’s got his checkers, his orange juice — vitamin-enriched and everything. We’re doing great.”

Cal hid a snort. The lion shifter could be annoying but charming as hell, and he had a way of calming Cynthia down. Lord knew the woman needed that, she was so high-strung.

His wolf grumbled. Keeping her calm is our job.

Yeah, he liked to think so, but he hadn’t been able to do that for the past too-many years. He should be grateful somebody had stepped in to help in his place.

Temporarily, his wolf snarled, giving Dell the evil eye.

“Well, that’s great. Thank you both,” Cynthia said, sounding truly grateful. “But we have to get going now.”

“Oh, come on, Cynth,” Dell groaned.

Joey cried at exactly the same time, “So soon?”

Cal tugged on Cynthia’s hand. Joey was having a good time. Why rush him back home?

“Last half hour to catch brunch,” Dell hinted.

Cynthia looked up with a blank expression that said, Brunch? I don’t do brunch. Certainly not in a place like this.

Cal squeezed her hand a little tighter, and if Dell caught the motion, who cared? Cynthia was his woman.

“We have a special offer,” Candy announced in her shrill, look-at-me voice. Cal watched as the hostess waved toward the dart board hanging on one wall. “Hit the bull’s-eye, and brunch is on the house.”

Dell flashed an amused grin. “Yeah. From behind that line.”

Cal snorted. Regulation distance to a board ought to be seven or eight feet, depending on the darts you used. But the line Dell indicated — a faded pirate sword painted on the floor — was at least twenty feet from the board.

Joey bounced up and down in his seat. “Cal can do it.” A glint crept into Dell’s eyes. “I’d love to see him try.”

Cal swung his jaw until it cracked, trying to resist the temptation. But Candy was already bounding to the board and back, bringing him a dart.

“Oh, I bet he could,” she cooed, fondling the tip of the dart. “That won’t be necessary,” Cynthia snipped.

Cal knew she was about to call Joey and head for the door, but heck. This was one of those It’s good for you moments he used to treat Cynthia to in more innocent times. The woman needed to get out more. To mingle with the lower classes — like him. To loosen up, have fun, and let her kid do the same.

So he took the dart, checked that the flights weren’t warped, and lined up his shot.

“No pressure,” Dell announced as more and more people fell silent and looked on.

Cal allowed himself the slightest smile. A dozen tourists and fishermen? That wasn’t pressure. Pressure was a dragon coming at you with its mouth wide open, about to smother you with fire.

“You could balance an apple on your head and stand in front of the board,” Cal said, keeping his voice smooth.

Everyone laughed — as did Dell, to his credit. “Nah. I’ll stand over here on the side. Just in case.”

Cal fingered the dart, getting a feel for its weight and balance. It was light

— much lighter than the objects he was used to hurling, but the principle was the same. Another four or five people turned to watch, and Bruce cackled.

“Good luck, mister. Your odds are about as good as me catching Moby Dick.”

Cynthia pursed her lips in one of those Is this really necessary? looks, and Cal hid a smile. This could turn out to be more fun than he’d thought.

Someone chimed in with a snarky comment about the one that got away, and a guy at the bar started taking bets. Cal kept his eyes on the dart board, letting everything around it fade away. Dell’s shit-eating grin. Joey’s all-too- hopeful gaze. Candy’s ever-fluttering eyelids. He even let Cynthia fade out for a moment, zeroing in on the board instead.

A deep, grizzled voice boomed in his head. A memory that said, You’re mine.

His lips curled upward. Those were the last words of a dragon who’d made the fatal error of underestimating him.

No, you’re mine, Cal nearly whispered, letting his mind turn the bull’s- eye into an enemy. Like that dragon — one of several Cal had hunted down and killed in retribution for attacking Barnaby’s place.

And, zip! With a flick of his wrist, he released the dart, hurtling it directly at the—

“Bull’s-eye!” everyone cheered.

Cal blinked and looked around, reminding himself he was in a quirky Maui bar, not on a battlefield. And whoa — Candy was coming at him with

what looked like a kiss for the lucky winner.

“Ahem,” Cynthia fake-coughed, stepping between them just in time. “I knew you could do it,” Joey cheered.

Cal shot him a grin.

“I knew it too,” Candy echoed, sidestepping Cynthia.

Cynthia countered by sticking her elbows out, and luckily, a customer called Candy away for a drink. Cal exhaled. Maybe fate didn’t have it in for him as badly as it sometimes seemed.

Dell brought his hands together quietly and mouthed a silent Bravo, then tipped his head toward a table. “Congratulations. You’re the first winner of the Lucky Devil’s Dart Challenge. Brunch is on the house.”

“But we were just…” Cynthia started, then slowly trailed off.

It was funny, how an idea could grow on a man. Cal hadn’t cared much about brunch a minute before, but when he pictured himself and Cynthia sitting across from each other, gazing into each other’s eyes…

“Sounds good to me,” he murmured, wondering what she would say. “Come on, Cynth.” Cal was surprised to hear Dell call. “One of our best

tables just opened up. You can enjoy the view.” Dell narrowed his eyes on Cal, giving him a look that said, Yes, she needs this. And as for you — you make sure you behave, you got me?

Cynthia stared at the seaside table. She didn’t sit down for long meals, let alone take in views. She was the high-powered, I have another thirty items to check off my list today kind of gal.

She sure looked tempted, though.

“Brunch,” Cal said. Slowly, carefully. Letting her form her own picture of how nice it could be. “Okay with you?”

She bit her lip, studying him. Then, with the slightest bob of her head, she nodded. “I suppose we could eat. Quickly, of course.”

“Of course.”

He grinned and started pulling her along before she changed her mind. Candy jumped in front of him, letting the strap of her body-hugging tank top slip down one shoulder as she showed them to the table. When they sat down, Candy slapped a menu in front of Cynthia. For Cal, she leaned way over and opened another menu to the centerfold, positioning it just so. The crease in the middle had a way of drawing the eye straight to her cleavage, but Cal kept his eyes firmly on Cynthia.

“Give us a minute,” he muttered, trying to keep the bark out of his voice.

When Candy sulked off, Cal pretended to study the menu. He didn’t actually care what he was having. Just sitting there with Cynthia was special enough. Out in public and everything, with no fear of someone coming along and saying, Aren’t you the Baird girl? How dare you be seen with this scum?

The memory must have shown, because Cynthia squeezed his hand, making him look up.

“Look at us,” she whispered. He sighed. “Yeah. Look at us.”

For a long minute, they gazed into each other’s eyes, letting the past mix with the present, washing in and out like the waves on the shore below. Ebbing in and out in a calm, steady rhythm.

So many years had gone by. So much time had been lost. But somehow, they’d found their way back to each other. His heart rate settled, and his mind did too. The mess of his life wouldn’t be resolved in one afternoon. But he could make a new memory – a good one – now.

So, they ordered — a Big Kahuna for him, whatever that was, and a Sunshine Special for Cynthia. He laughed when the meals were served. His was a huge platter covered with bacon, hash browns, the brightest orange cantaloupe he’d ever seen, and something that looked like fried fish wrapped

in leaves. Cynthia, meanwhile, got a yogurt, fresh fruit, and a smoothie. She raised her glass for a toast, then hesitated.

“To…”

Cal held up his water and waited.

“To brunch,” Cynthia finished a little lamely, though her eyes hinted at something else. Something she didn’t dare utter, and neither did he.

He clinked his glass against hers and echoed, “To brunch.”

For wolf shifters, meals were more of a destination, not a journey. A means of chasing away hunger rather than a process in themselves. But for once in his life, Cal slowed down and let every flavor dissipate over his tongue. The dark, smoky flavor of the bacon. The crisp contrast of fresh cantaloupe. The surprisingly succulent fish that just about melted on his tongue once he’d picked the meat out of the banana leaf it had been steamed in. He had to hand it to Maui — or to the Lucky Devil. It was the best damn meal he’d had in a long time.

Cynthia ate in small, dainty bites, torturing him with the way her lips closed over her fork, then slowly slid off. Every few minutes, her eyes strayed to Joey. Whenever Cal glanced that way, he caught Dell checking on him and Cynthia in the same way. Appraising. Judging. Sending a clear message that the person he cared for was not to be misused.

But Joey was having a good time, and Cynthia was too. Slowly, she relaxed, and so did Cal. Even Candy cantering over with unnecessary water refills didn’t faze them. When the meal was cleared away, they remained sitting, looking at each other or the view. Cal nearly reached for Cynthia’s hand, but he settled for resting a leg against hers.

You know, we were good together, he wanted to say.

Cynthia pursed her lips, and he heard her answer in his mind.

Yes, we were. Her eyes took on a soft shifter glow.

He hated the past tense, but okay. He would take what he could get.

The sun glinted off her pearls, and Cal smiled without knowing exactly why. He hadn’t forgotten how beautiful Cynthia was, but he had forgotten what it was like to kick back and have a nice time.

Feels good, his wolf sighed.

A boisterous party of four emerged at the top of the stairs, making Cynthia look over. Then she jerked her hand up, checked her watch, and jolted. “Oh, look at the time. We should go.”

Already? he nearly protested.

But she was right. Joey had played enough rounds of checkers, and they probably ought to vacate their table to someone likely to tip more generously than he was inclined to do, given the peep show Candy had kept up despite hints he wasn’t the least bit interested.

Still, he found it in his heart to round the drinks tip up from fifteen percent — after he finished arguing with Cynthia over who would pay, that was. When they stood to leave, Cynthia paused, looking out at the view, and he swore her chest rose and fell in a deep sigh.

He didn’t want to leave either. He never wanted that quiet, uncomplicated time to end.