Luka threw back his door and darted toward the entrance, spotting his mother with her arms blocking the open door and Gia, who stood a good foot taller than his mother but who had at least twenty pounds on her, shouting over the woman’s shoulder.
“Luka, you better…” The threat died on Gia’s lips when she spotted him.
Her frown softened and she rounded her eyes before glancing at his mother, jerking her chin toward him. The older woman looked over her shoulder seeming to give up her small sentry of the door to turn toward Luka and throw him the same disappointed, hard-pinched glare that seemed to always be on her face when she looked at him.
“Can you explain…this?” his mother asked, tossing her fingers in Gia’s direction. “I don’t recall agreeing to any visitors, Luka, and certainly not…loud ones.”
Luka rubbed his neck, unable to keep the smile from his lips. He’d only ever seen one other woman stand up to his mother. Kona’s girl, Keira and it fascinated him. These haole girls were bold and rude and just didn’t seem to give a solitary shit about pissing off his mother.
Gia folded her arms, waiting for his answer, standing calmly at his mother’s side, both women quiet, expectant as though they wanted him to make a choice. Neither one would be easy. Either Luka would have his girl and be happy, and his mother would never stop yelling at him, or, he wouldn’t have Gia and…
Hell.
There was no ‘and’ for Luka.
“Makuahine, this is Gia Jilani. She’s my…” He licked his lips, glancing once at his mother’s angry frown before he decided to ignore it. “She is my girlfriend and wherever I am, she’s welcome. Always.” He ignored the noise his mother made when he waved his fingers, silently calling Gia over to him. She moved around his speechless mother, muttering a quiet, “excuse me,” before she let Luka pull her against his chest. Gia curled into him, taking his kiss when he stole it, oblivious to the noises his mother continued to make and how they got louder.
“Luka, this is not appropriate. You are not allowed to have…”
“Ah moʻopuna … is this your milimili?”
He paused, tapping Gia’s back when his grandfather shuffled into the entrance, his wide smile stretching as he looked between Luka and the girl he held in his arms.
“Yeah, kuku. This is Gia. But don’t…”
He didn’t get the warning out in time before his grandfather picked Gia up, hugging her tight, speaking to her in words she’d never understand. And then, like the good grandfather he was, kuku started telling stories. Lots of stories Luka had heard a thousand times. Stories about how he’d met his first and second wife while he was stationed in Paris during World War II (divorced) and then in Germany (annulled). Then how his third wife, Luka’s mother’s mother, “an ugly woman with a plump ass from the Big Island,” according to kuku, had chased him until he caught her.
The stories had the effect the old man had aimed for and within ten minutes, Luka’s mother forgot her anger about Gia barging into their home. She forgot it enough that she waved kuku off when he asked her if she remembered another story he’d always told about the girl of twenty-two he wanted to marry when he turned sixty-five and had been widowed ten years.
Luka led Gia from the entrance, grinning at the wink his grandfather shot him before he opened his bedroom door for her.
“Here, let me get that,” he told her, pushing a stack of dirty clothes off his bed to give her a clean space to sit. But Gia seemed to have other things on her mind than sitting down to chat with him about his grandfather or viper-mean mother.
“So,” she said, arms crossed as he faced her. He wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on her face or if the tightness around her eyes was from anger and some lingering irritation she felt after confronting his mother.
“So,” he tried, standing in front of her. God, it felt like months and not just a week since he’d seen her. He itched to touch her, taste her again. “Gia…” He leaned forward, stopping short when she held her hand over his mouth to stop him. “Hmm?” he said against her palm.
“Girlfriend?”
Luka moved his eyebrows up, realizing his mistake. Realizing only just now what he’d called her and to whom. The label had always bothered him. He’d never wanted to