Page 3 of The Seashell of ’Ohana

I was sure I had bags under my eyes, and my long hair was a tangled mess. I’d had a rough day at the art gallery and had rushed over here. I hadn’t met with clients today, so I had on an old pair of gray jeans and a white T-shirt, purple and yellow oil paint staining the hem.

A pause stretched between us. A few women passed, their eyes on Ian, admiring him a bit too long. He didn’t notice as his attention was on me. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so … seen.

“Pure. That’s my favorite.” Ian pointed at my hand, breaking the silence.

Apparently, I had forgotten what I was doing here. “Oh, yes. Pure is our favorite, too.”

“Do you need just one?” He let out the same delicious chuckle and made me want to hear him laugh again.

I gave him a sidelong glance. “Just one …?”

“Yogurt?” He sounded unsure.

“Oh, this.” I raised the yogurt. “Yes. I mean, no.” I shook my head. Stop acting like a girl with a crush. “I mean, I need a few more. Could you, please?”

His toned biceps flexed as he grabbed a container and placed it in the cart. My gaze lingered over his thick eyebrows framing deep-set dark eyes with killer eyelashes that gave the illusion he was wearing eyeliner. He reminded me of the hot pirate character in Tyler’s game.

He halted as he stretched his arm to grab another container, craned his neck to me, and slowly tugged his lips into a devilish grin. His eyes beamed with amusement that said—I know you’re looking at me.

I backed away a step with a nervous smile, noticing that my treacherous body had leaned toward him. He placed the one he held gently in the cart on top of two piles he had made by my purse.

“Will ten be enough, or do you need more?” he asked.

Ten? What? I had been too enthralled and hadn’t noticed.

“This is plenty. Thank you.” I offered a grateful smile and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Were you passing by? I mean, I didn’t see you.”

I lowered my eyes to the black plastic basket next to his feet. That must have been the thing that had clattered on the ground before he’d caught me. Inside, he had a loaf of wheat bread, two tomatoes in a clear plastic bag, and turkey sandwich meat.

Ian rubbed at his stubbled jaw and flicked his gaze to Tyler. “I was on my way to get some ice cream when I heard a squeaking sound, and I wanted to know who the cart belonged to.”

Perhaps lucky after all.

“So, are you back from a business trip?” I asked. “Or are you off to another country?”

I wasn’t trying to pry in his personal business, but it’d be weird to thank him and walk off. After all, he was Leonardo’s good friend. They were practically brothers. And it wasn’t like we were strangers.

Ian grabbed a couple of Pure yogurts and lowered them into his basket. “I got back from Singapore last night. I’ll be staying for a while.”

I nodded, and an awkward silence fell between us. I put my hand on the cart’s handle, about to tell him goodbye, but he said, “Will you be at your gallery any time soon?”

“I’m swamped at work, so I’m there every day.”

Ian picked up his basket with one swift scoop. “I need to buy some paintings, so I’ll stop by when I get a chance. Anyway, I better let you two get going.” He glanced at Tyler, who was shaking the box of cereal near his ear like a Christmas present.

“Thank you for rescuing me.” My cheeks heated. “See you around.” See you around? So lame. I wished I had a redo.

“I’d like that,” he said, then gave his attention to Tyler. “Take care of your mom. And …” He leaned lower, but gave me a sly sidelong glance as if he was saying it to me. “Don’t forget to buy chocolate chip ice cream. That’s my favorite.”

“Mine too.” Tyler’s eyes rounded.

Ian nodded at the box Tyler held, then held out his palm for a high five. “See you soon, kid. Ahoy, mate.”

“Blimey.” Tyler’s smile stretched wider, and he looked at Ian as if he was his hero.

I started when Ian swooped his arms around my waist and placed a tender kiss on my cheek.

“It was good seeing you, Abby.” His kind words caressed the shell of my ear.