I'm Kona Love You Forever (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series Book 6) Read Online Free Page A

everyone knows fish take to water.”
    I took a deep breath and walked through the front door. People were standing shoulder-to-shoulder so it took a few moments to spot Farrah. She looked better than I’d ever seen her, all tanned skin and smiling white teeth. Her navy cotton shorts and form-fitting tank top showed off a body you’d expect to see on a marathon runner. Except for the boobs. Her impressive display of pulchritude hadn’t suffered a wit from her recent weight loss.
    Okay, I felt a small pang of jealousy. But it passed in the time it takes to blow out a candle.
    “Pali,” she squealed when our eyes met. “Get over here, girl.”
    We hugged like a couple of teenage girls who’d been reunited after a scary night of being lost in the jungle. I started to pull back but she held on.
    “Not yet,” she said. “I want to take in your scent.”
    Alarm shot through me. Had I remembered deodorant that morning? The room was stifling with dozens of people crammed in there. And the paltry overhead fan was no substitute for A/C. None of these old houses had either furnaces or air conditioners, so we were used to sucking it up on the occasional days when the temp dropped below sixty or soared above eighty-five. But the heat radiating off thirty bodies at ninety-eight-point-six degrees made the room feel stuffy and close.
    She sucked in a deep breath. “I love how you always smell like toast,” she said.
    Toast ?
    “I’ve missed you so much,” I said.
    “Me too.” Tears pooled in the corners of her brown eyes.
    “Are you okay? ” I said. “Are you enjoying married life?”
    “I love it. I love Ono nearly as much as I love you,” she said.
    I glanced over at Ono , glad to see he was out of earshot. “What are you saying? Don’t you love Ono more?”
    “No way. I’ve only known him a few months. I’ve known you forever. We’re ‘ohana , remember?”
    “Of course. But Ono’s your ‘ohana now.” ‘ Ohana is the Hawaiian word for family. Family is at the tippity-top of the social pyramid as far as island people are concerned. Your job, your school, your neighbors, your pets—they’re important. But they will always be relegated to a lesser status than family members. And in the case of Farrah and me, we’d become ‘ohana in fourth grade. We’d each picked a scab and pressed our bleeding knees together and became “blood sisters.” Nowadays such tribal rituals were no doubt frowned upon due to concern over blood-borne diseases, or even good hygiene, but back then it was a common schoolyard practice.
    “He ’ll be ‘ohana in time,” she said. “But for now we’re just groovin’ on each other. We’re not quite there, but we’re working on it.”
    I gave her a kiss on the cheek and went to greet Ono. He gripped me in a tight one-armed hug since he was holding a gigantic tiki-shaped plastic cup in the other hand.
    “Hey, you,” he said. “We both missed you.”
    The meeting was bittersweet for me. I’d known Ono long before he’d ever met Farrah.  He and I had shared a fleeting glimpse of the boyfriend/girlfriend thing, but we hadn’t clicked. Ono is the poster boy for the laid-back boating lifestyle, but not in a Tommy Bahama way. He’s not “casual chic” as much as simply “casual.” He’s a transplanted mainlander with a checkered history of success, loss, despair, and redemption. Now and forever he’ll be an avid friend of Bill W and he takes his sobriety seriously. No doubt his tiki cup held pog—passion fruit, orange, and guava juice. It was his signature cocktail.
    “Did you have a great sail?” I said.
    “The best. I got to wake up every morning with the most beautiful girl on earth—uh, you being the second most beautiful, of course—and sail brilliant blue water to islands so green they make you squint.”
    “Wow,” I said.
    “Yeah. ‘Wow’ is the only way to describe it. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for bringing Farrah into my life. It’s