CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER

1

E

den McLaughlin tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, the Hawaiian spring wind trying to whip it right off her head. Once she got around the corner up ahead, she’d get some relief.

If only she could get the same reprieve from her thoughts simply by rounding a corner. But no, they continued to go round and round even after she got away from the wind. Deciding to take a break, she found a level piece of ground on the trail she’d escaped to in the wilds of Hawaii—if such a thing could be found.

And it could. Getaway Bay was thriving and growing, but there were still plenty of off-the-beaten-path trails and hikes and opportunities on the island. Sure, she had to drive a little. Yes, hers was the only car in the parking lot—which was little more than a patch of dirt next to a non-marked trailhead.

But this kind of back-country exploring was what Eden thrived on. She sat down and pulled out the survival tool she’d jimmy-rigged to be everything she needed while hiking. Part knife, part can opener, part pair of scissors, it literally had everything—even a compartment for a solar blanket and a six-foot length of cord she could use for a dozen purposes.

And no one wanted it.

“Billionaires.” She scoffed out the word as she pulled the portable stove from her pack. Another invention of hers, she could heat a single serving of whatever she wanted in something the size of a can of beans.

None of the billionaire investors that had flocked to Fisher DuPont’s huge eyesore of a hotel on the beach wanted to give her any money to get her line of survival gear off the ground. Her latest meeting had been yesterday with a man named Darius Blood. Yes, Blood.

“More like blood

sucker

,” Eden muttered as she got the container of chicken casserole from her pack and scooped it into the can. It had two bottoms, one of which was connected to the other with thin strips of metal, allowing her to stuff grass and small sticks into the gap between the two.

Using her multipurpose tool, which also held matches, she lit the debris and got the flame going. No need to just pack sandwiches anymore. The speeches she’d prepared for her products lingered in her mind, always just out of reach. Ready to be called upon, should she get asked a question in line at the grocery store or on an elevator.

After all, she understood the seven degrees of separation better than almost anyone, and it could be that the cashier could have a brother who knew someone, who knew who owned the biggest and most profitable survival company in Getaway Bay.

Explore Getaway Bay.

Eden had tried to find out who really owned the company. It seemed like every door that opened, five more closed—and she worked as a tour guide for the outdoor department of the company. And she still had no idea who really signed her checks.

Not that there were literally any checks to sign. Not in this digital age.

Sometimes Eden wanted to rewind time, go back to when she had to have cash to buy something, and everything passed from person to person. Now, people could buy whole islands with virtual money, and Eden didn’t understand any of it. She loved the land, the island, the act of going outside and exploring.

And that was what she did, six days a week. Well, seven if her own exploration of Getaway Bay on her day off counted.

The ocean in front of her brought a small measure of comfort, and she watched the horizon, wondering how long it took for the water way out there to crash against the rocks on the cliffs below her.

Probably as long as it had taken Jeremy to know he didn’t want to see her again. She’d been on six first dates in the past couple of months, and she couldn’t get a man to commit to a second.

Maybe she talked too much about her inventions. Maybe she didn’t talk enough. She’d tried both and failed both times. She told herself it didn’t matter, because between working in the shed in her backyard to make awesome outdoor products, her real day job, and all her investment meetings, she certainly didn’t have time for a boyfriend.

She’d tried the app that had sent the island into a tailspin—Getaway Bay Singles—but she’d struck out there too.

Eden leaned her head back against the rocks, deciding this week just sucked and she needed to hang in there until next week.

Next week, she’d be on the submarine, her favorite tour, and that would make this week better. She had no more investment meetings, and she’d just take a break from the shed.

That all decided, she ate her chicken and rice, her mood lifted somewhat by the food and the plan to move forward. Still with her back against the cliff, she pulled out her phone and sent a group text to her sisters.

Maybe I don’t understand men because I don’t have any brothers.

The message went zipping through cyberspace, where it would land on her sister’s phones. They’d send back condolences about Jeremy, who Eden had been very hopeful about. Then they’d throw in stories of their latest dating disasters, and Eden would offer to make dinner at her place that night.

She’d always felt a bit out of place among her sisters, but they were her best friends at the same time. She wasn’t sure why her parents had gone for plant names for all of them, but she’d gotten Eden.

Orchid, Iris, Ivy—and Eden. It might have made sense if she was the baby of the family. Like the Garden of Eden. But nope. She was the second oldest, and the twins—Iris and Ivy—had just celebrated their thirtieth birthday.

The sky darkened, and Eden glanced up. Concern flowed through her, and she realized she’d been staring at her phone instead of paying attention to the weather. Things could shift suddenly out in the ocean, and she knew better than most. How many times had she said that to tourists coming through the office?

Thousands.

She hastily stood up and packed up her things, the first drops of rain already falling though the sun was still shining in parts of the sky. She’d climbed for a good hour before stopping, and it would be slick and hard to get down if the rain continued for very long.

Big, heavy drops kept pounding the ground around her, soaking her face and hair before she’d even shouldered her pack. What a perfect way to end this horrible week, and it felt like God and Mother Nature had combined forces against her.

She took a few steps to the corner and hesitated. Perhaps she should just stay here. One step into that wind, and she might blow away. Her calves burned from standing on the downward slope, but she couldn’t see very far behind her to know if there was a cave or a small divot in the rocks where she could at least find some shelter from the storm.

Most storms like this raged for fifteen minutes or less, and if she could just wait it out, she’d have a much smoother hike back to her car.

Turning, she headed back the way she’d come, passing the flat spot where she’d eaten lunch. She kept one hand continually on the cliffs on her left, her situation growing more and more dire by the moment.

She finally stopped, unable to keep climbing due to the slope and the slippery mud the path had become. Feeling stupid—how lame would a headline look about one of Getaway Bay’s top outdoor tour guides getting stuck in the wilderness?—she pulled out her phone and texted her sisters.

Stuck out a Bald Mountain Cliffs. If I don’t call someone in an hour, send help.

Help?

Orchid’s text came right back, and Eden tried not to roll her eyes. Orchid never wore anything but heels, the thought of actually hiking a horrifying one.

Eden couldn’t focus on the text string right now. She needed to get out of this rain. After zipping her phone back in her pants pocket, she turned back down the trail. Maybe she’d missed something, but it was pretty hard to tell.

In the end, she crouched down close to the face of the cliff and ducked her head as low as possible, covering it with her hands. The storm would just last a few more minutes. Microbursts. That’s all Hawaii got, unless they’d already braced for a tropical storm or a hurricane. And there hadn’t been anything on the weather report that morning.

She wasn’t sure how long she crouched there, but it couldn’t have been long—her knees didn’t even hurt yet—before an awful, cracking, crashing, thundering sound filled the air. Filled her ears, her whole soul.

She gasped and lifted her head, trying to locate the source of the noise. But it echoed from everywhere, as if the sky itself had split open and the Earth would be ending in the next few seconds.

The warm rain pounded against her face, blinding her, and Eden ducked her head again, true fear flowing through her.

The ground beneath her began to shake, and she bolted to her feet.

“The mountain is coming down.”

Sure enough, in that moment, Bald Mountain Cliffs started shedding off rocks like a snake does its skin. Eden had nowhere to go to escape—not this time.

She got swept away by the landslide as it rammed into her back, stealing her breath and shooting toward that corner she’d rounded. She knew the landslide wouldn’t turn and follow the path, but go right off the side of the cliff.

And she was going with it.

She screamed as she fell, landing much sooner than she’d have thought. She rolled as more mud and rocks continued to rain down on her, pain flashing through her temples, her knees, her back, and her hands.

All at once, she found shelter from the rain and all the debris flowing over the path above. She drew in a shaky breath, the edges of her vision turning white.

“I’m going to pass out,” she murmured, glad she’d texted her sisters.

“Hey,” a man said, and Eden jerked toward the voice. Bad move. Her head swam, and she couldn’t see very well at all.

She groaned and started to tip forward, the man catching her in his arms at the same time he said, “Eden?”

Eden looked up in the gorgeous, if not a little bloody, face of Holden Holstein. Ah, Holden. This was a nice dream. One where he held her in his arms, kissed her, shared his deepest sorrows with her.

“Are you with me?” he asked, and Eden’s eyes snapped open again. “Don’t pass out, Eden.”

But she couldn’t hold on. Of course Holden—the one and only man she’d ever loved—would have to be in this cave. Had to be a witness to her falling off a cliff and passing out.

“Holden,” she murmured. She’d wanted to say so much to him before they’d broken up all those years ago. But she couldn’t then, and her tongue was too thick and her brain too slow now.

So she settled into the warm darkness, the scent of Holden’s skin and cologne lulling her right into unconsciousness, the way it had so often in the past.