Free Knots by Chanse Lowell Page A

shoulder and took off, never to return?
    He swallowed, watched Jeanie hug Marly and when they were done greeting each other the way women did with chirping voices and excited gestures, he expected her to leave him behind.
    “Mark—this way. I wanna show you something,” Jeanie said, holding her hand out for him to take it.
    His smile doubled in width, and he took it without even thinking about it.
    Marly’s eyes narrowed for a second, then she smoothed out her expression.
    “What does he need to see?” Marly asked, voice tight.
    “The garden . . . I always loved your mama’s gardens. They’re so peaceful, and she grows things here I’ve never seen anywhere else.”
    “Taro,” Marly said, clucking her tongue at the end and rolling her eyes.
    “What’s wrong with taro?” he teased her.
    “No one likes poi. That’s old people food. But Mama insists on making it anytime we have a gathering. I think she made some for you today. Bluck! I’m not eating it.” Marly loped away.
    “Wow, she made me poi? That’s . . .” Jeanie put a hand over her throat.
    “What’s the big deal? She’s made it for me before,” he replied.
    She tugged him along toward the backyard. They entered through the side gate that was wide open.
    “It’s considered a sacred, hallowed tradition. Pono told me I shouldn’t ever turn my nose up at poi when it was offered. It’s part of their culture from long ago, and if it was presented at a table, they thought of it as a way to bring in the spirit of Haloa.” She paused and inhaled sharply, her eyes glazing over as she stared at the ground, unseeing. “Oh God . . . They’re summoning Pono for me.” Her head dropped further. “Haloa is the spirit of their Hawaiian ancestors. Why would they do that? I wanna move forward, not wallow.”
    “I’m sure it’s not what you think. I mean, they’re not even Hawaiian—they’re Tongan.”
    “Yeah, but they lived in Hawaii for quite a while and adopted a lot of their customs. I thought you knew this . . .”
    He cupped her chin, tipping her head up to him. His stomach flipped when she licked her lips like she was ready for a kiss. He glanced around, and when he saw there was no one around, he stole a quick one. “I was teasing you. I did already know that about them. But you taste good, too. Very distracting. Mmm . . .”
    “Stop. You’re giving me a big head, Sir,” she said with a soft giggle.
    “Yeah, I’ve got a similar problem right now.” He dropped his eyes to his groin.
    She clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled a little louder. “You’re so bad.” She averted her gaze.
    “Not for you I’m not,” he said, leaning in and whispering in her ear as he brushed her long, dark hair over her shoulders. “I’m very, very good for you .”
    “That remains to be seen.” She sauntered off, leaving him behind.
    He chased after her. “Always wanted to re-enact the Garden of Eden. Sounds like absolute Heaven to me to make love to my woman in a lush, green garden of sin.” His voice was low, gritty and completely filled with longing.
    He brushed the back of his index finger down her arm.
    Her jaw clenched for a second.
    All right—he wasn’t that big of a dick. He needed to cut it out before he pissed her off, or worse—scared her away.
    She jerked her head toward the garden. Was she hinting she wanted him to take the lead?
    Well, fuck . . . Of course that was what he wanted.
    He stepped forward, and she almost matched his stride, lagging just barely behind him.
    A rush of adrenaline rippled through him as visions hit him of having her on a leash, following along this exact same way.
    He took a deep breath, and they moved into the garden surrounded with berry bushes on all sides.
    Reminded him of the story Secret Garden with how secluded it felt.
    His arms flexed, begging him to hold her and kiss her again, but instead, he turned to her and said, “What do you like best about this place?”
    “I like how I’m