Page 27 of Fruit and Flash

“Such a dad joke.” Kai laughs and turns the lens his way. “Thank you all for supporting me in this new adventure. Aloha!”

When he lowers the device, I frown and lean on the door jamb, hearing the old wood crunch under my weight. “Doesn’t aloha mean ‘hello’ in Hawaiian?”

“Hello, goodbye, a way of life,” Kai shrugs. “I guess a haole wouldn’t know that.”

“I’m not sure if that’s an insult,” I say with a half grin to show I’m not insulted either way. I like hearing Hawaiian words in thesoftly accented way Kai has, which I have no hope of replicating. “But do you need anything?”

“It’s not necessarily an insult. It really depends on the situation, and you’re not really a foreigner here. On the islands, you’re a haole, though.” Kai explains all of this with a pleasant expression, his hands gesturing animatedly, but then he stops and looks around the shack.

It’s a fairly open space with a post to hold up the beam in the middle, a kitchenette on one side, windows on three sides, and decades of dust and debris. I’ve never bothered with it, because I don’t need the space. My sister and I played pretend in here when she was little and I didn’t have so many farm tasks.

“Oh! I need a measuring tape so I can start planning!”

“I would guess it’s about twenty by twenty in here, but let’s go to the barn,” I move, glad to have a direction to follow.

Kai stops to put his camera back on a black tripod beside his car, facing the little house. I'm looking forward to seeing how he presents the project and my farm. It’s like seeing the place through new eyes, and I’m oddly buoyed by the whole thing.

He follows me to the workshop where Shadow joins us, and I hand Kai one of my measuring tapes. “This is heavier than I expected.”

Blinking, I take in his words. “You’ve never used a tape before?”

“Nope,” Kai pops the P and I find myself staring at his lips before he turns and walks out of the barn. “You’ll have to show me how,” he calls over his shoulder, and I can hear the smile in his tone. The minx. Stopping back at his car, Kai pulls out his phone along with a bunch of stuff in his backpack. “I need to take notes.”

“What’s that box for,” I ask, pointing and wondering if it’s more filming equipment.

“Oh! I should show you this.” Kai opens the box to show a variety of smaller boxes, a little wooden brush and comb, some round containers and a couple little bottles. There’s a fancy logo on the upper lid, all in dark, masculine colors, which Kai reads. “Mustachioed Man. They’re offering me a sponsorship to use and post about their products. Except I can’t use them, obviously.”

Looking up at his face, I see the clean-shaven face without a trace of stubble. I don’t know if it’s his age or genetics, but I can’t imagine Kai with facial hair. Plus, it would hide his handsome bone structure.

“I have facial hair,” I say stupidly, aware I didn’t do anything but wash my face this morning.

“Yes, with an impressive mustache.” Kai chuckles and I feel my face heat. “Do you want to try these products?”

“For you to post?”

“Only if you want to. I don’t have to promote the brand. I can just keep the box and say I’m not interested.”

Kai’s words say it’s not important, but the way he furrows his brow and chews on his lip says otherwise. “Will they pay you money to use on the project here?”

“They would. And I’d be able to do more with the tiny house,” Kai admits, meeting my eyes.

“Then I’m game. What do I need to do?”

Clapping, Kai lets out an adorable squeal of excitement. “Come stand in front of the camera. I’ll have you use the product while I describe what each item is and you tell me how to use them.”

The whole process takes almost an hour, so I’m glad my hat gives me some shade. The process is oddly erotic, with Kai’s hands holding the comb to my face or rubbing things into the hair and skin around it. I’m glad he told me the camera is onlyshowing me from the waist up, because I’m hard by the time he’s done.

He records me saying how it all feels and shows me a picture, and I have to admit my beard is softer and my mustache less stiff than when I use pomade on it. I’m about to ask if we can continue what we started the day before in the air-conditioned house, but he needs to do measurements and editing. Kai falls asleep sitting up in bed with his laptop a little after I bring him dinner, so I tuck him in and go to bed myself.

The next morning, I’m doing chores with Shadow when Kai runs out holding his phone and a cup of coffee. It has been a few hours since my shower and coffee, and I’m dirtier than usual after more garden work and fixing a broken fence post. Plus, I spent a good portion of the night tossing and turning, thinking of the man now smiling in front of me.

“Hayes, you have to see!”

Pointing at the cup he’s holding, I ask hopefully, “Is that for me?”

“Yes.” Kai thrusts the cup in my direction, a bit spilling over the edge. “You only had half-and-half, so I added a splash. Sorry if you wanted sugar.”

“This is great. Thank you.” Taking a sip, I regard Kai over the rim. He’s in another short and shirt set, this one a light green, and he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet. “What did you want to show me?”