of his kitchen. Next to the pineapples he got on the island, these were the best Kai had ever eaten.
“Mr. Pukui!” the old man said, when he caught Kai’s attention, nodding at him as he weaved through the crowd. He waved him over with his hat, fanning his sweaty face before he picked up a canvas bag that he offered. “I’m afraid I’ve only got four for you today.”
“Four?”
“Well, we’re getting close to the end of the season, aren’t we? This ain’t Hawaii. Pineapples don’t come year-round.”
Kai nodded, a little disappointed by how small the pineapples were, but still offered the man an appreciative grin when he paid him. “Thanks. This will work.”
“You gonna grill them?”
“I might. If they’re not juicy enough. But it’s a little hot to stay outside longer than I have to.” He looked around the vendor’s selection, spotting the vats upon vats of strawberries. There were hundreds, so many that strawberries seemed to have taken over the man’s booth. “What’s the deal with the berries?”
“Beg pardon?” the man said, blinking at Kai like he was just a little slow. “What you mean?”
“I don’t get it,” he admitted, picking up one berry to sniff it. “Are strawberries a big deal here?”
Two old women standing next to Kai jerked their gazes right to him, another clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, shaking her head while she muttered, “bless his heart,” before she walked away.
“Louisiana strawberries,” Kai heard someone say behind him, followed by the long, slender arm that weaved around his arm to pluck the berry from his hand, “specifically Ponchatoula strawberries, are the best thing you’re likely to ever put in your mouth.”
He repressed a groan, loving the sound of Gia’s voice so close to him and that sweet smell of her perfume as it hit his senses. Kai turned, taking back his berry, his stare centered on her full lips as they stretched into a smile. Then all thought left him as he spotted what she wore. He’d only seen so much of Gia’s skin in Summerland’s Mardi Gras night, but this was better. It was daylight. He had a better view and fuck did he like it.
Kai blinked, recovering from seeing her in that romper, putting a grin back on his face before he muttered, “I can think of…other things that would probably taste better in my…”
“Do not finish that sentence,” she told him, grabbing the berry back to hand it over to the old man. “How’s your day going, Mr. Blanchard?”
“I’m good, darlin’. How’s our boys looking?”
“Oh, everyone’s great. Except this one lineman,” she said, winking at the old man. “He’s a pain in my ass.”
“They usually are.” Blanchard picked up a canvas bag already full of strawberries and handed it over to Gia. “We’re lucky with this late harvest and all the rain this year. Never had berries so long in the season.” He grinned. “Oh, and we got a new crop of squash coming in about a month or two. And my wife told me she’s sending you that soup recipe.”
“It’ll be great if this heat ever leaves us,” Gia said, handing over a twenty. She glanced at Kai, then back to the old man. “Give him just a teaser. Don’t want him making himself sick with all those pineapples and strawberries. Besides, I need him fit for the opening game next weekend.”
The old man laughed, stuffing two green containers of strawberries into a smaller canvas bag before he passed it over to Kai. “Don’t eat them all at once.”
“No worries,” he told the old man. “If I run out, I’ll just steal hers.”
“You will not,” Gia said, pulling her bag away from Kai when he reached for it. “Thanks, Mr. Blanchard.”
The old man waved them off and Kai followed behind the GM, unable to keep his attention from her small waist and impossibly long legs. He’d never seen her dressed down before and decided he liked her this way, looking comfortable in all that glorious skin, wearing that thin, spaghetti strapped blue romper with a V-neck like it was made for her. Some women might feel self-conscious walking around with that much leg and cleavage showing, but Gia carried herself with confidence and oozed elegance. If people took second glances at her it was because she was beautiful, not because she was sporting a lot of skin.
“Are you going to ogle me, Pukui, or are you going to walk me back to our building?”
“Wasn’t ogling,” he lied, moving