Tropical Kiss And Tell (Tropical Kisses Book 2) Read online

  Tropical Kiss and Tell

  Tropical Kisses Book 2

  Liwen Y. Ho

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  1. Introduction

  2. Revelation

  3. Caution

  4. Objection

  5. Confrontation

  6. Separation

  7. Declaration

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by Liwen Y. Ho

  Tropical Kiss and Tell

  Copyright © 2017 by Liwen Y. Ho. All rights reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Oreo, Sesame Street, Dumbledore, Hogwarts, Harry Potter, Ron, Hermione, Chris Pratt, UCLA, Berkeley, Curran Theater

  Cover and Interior Design: 2 Square 2 Be Hip (www.2square2behip.com)

  Publisher: 2 Square 2 Be Hip (www.2square2behip.com)

  First Edition

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks go out to my awesome beta readers who gave of their time and heart to support me and this story: Tabitha Kocsis, Christy Chu Klein, Janine Acevedo, and Michele Chung.

  Introduction

  January, 15 years ago

  Lucy

  “Can’t I stay home? I can eat cereal for dinner.” Lucy Choi fisted her hands and placed them on her hips. She stared at her father who was busy straightening his shirt collar. He stood before one of four mirrors hanging on the wall, all of them different sizes and shapes. The entryway was the brightest place in the house, displaying everyone’s expressions and actions when they walked by. Tonight, the reflection looking back at her remained unfazed.

  “No and no.” Her dad, Lucas, turned to face her and shook his head. For as long as Lucy could remember, he’d always had a line between his brows, especially when she opened her mouth to speak. The rest of his face though appeared young and wrinkle-free; the only sign of aging a few gray hairs that came in at his temples when he turned thirty-five recently. “You don’t need all that sugar. And you are not staying home alone, Lucy. You’re only ten. I can’t believe you would even suggest such a thing.”

  “All my friends stay home alone.” She tried hard to keep her voice even since whining never seemed to work. “It’s not like I’m a baby or a little kid like Lexi.”

  Her five-year-old sister glanced up from where she sat on the tile floor. She held up her left foot and announced, “I’m a big kid. I tied my shoe-waces all by myself!”

  “Great job, sweetheart.” Lucas gave her a thumbs-up and Lucy a quirked brow. “No more arguing.”

  “But Dad,” Lucy continued to make her case, “I’m practically a teenager.”

  He rolled his eyes as he put on a coat. “You may sound like one, but you’ve still got a few years to go. And until you’re an adult and living under your own roof and able to support yourself, I’m responsible for you. I’m the head of this family and it’s my job to take care of you, your sister, and your mom.”

  The twitch of her dad’s jaw muscle confirmed she was pushing his buttons—again—but she didn’t care. The last thing she wanted was to meet their neighbors. She hadn’t wanted to move to this new house or change schools in the middle of fifth grade. But had anyone asked her what she wanted? Of course not. She crossed her arms, unwilling to back down. “I can take care of myself.”

  Her dad walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I know you can’t wait to grow up, but trust me, you are not ready to take on the world. Listen to your dad. I’m a cop and I’ve seen a lot of things. I know what’s out there—”

  “And it’s not pretty,” Lucy finished for him, her tone flat. How many times had she heard this speech?

  “Exactly,” he declared with a smile. “So, you have been listening to me. Great work.”

  Was that approval in her dad’s voice? “See how mature I am? I’m ready to stay home by myself.”

  “Not quite yet, Luce. Come on, it’s only dinner. We won’t stay long since we have church tomorrow. Now will you put on your jacket? Please.” He kissed her on the forehead, then glanced at his watch. “Where’s your mom? Sammie,” he called up the stairs. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

  “Coming!” The cheerful voice grew louder as a woman in a red dress came running downstairs. Her black hair swayed around her shoulders in loose curls and her face was lightly made up with mascara and a natural lip color. Rummaging through the leather handbag in her hands, she exclaimed, “Has anyone seen my gold bangles? They were here, but now I can’t find them.”

  “No, dear,” Lucas replied, “but you look beautiful without them. Let’s go. The Chans said six o’clock. We only have six minutes to spare.”

  “Lucas, you do realize it’ll only take us one minute to walk next door,” Sam smirked as she slipped on her nude colored heels.

  “Not at the pace”—he cocked his head in Lucy’s direction—“some of us are going.”

  “That’s why there’s Asian time. At this rate, we’ll be early,” she joked. “Why don’t you wait for us outside?” Sam ushered him out the front door, then gave Lexi a hand with her right shoe and sent her after him. She turned to Lucy with a hopeful grin. “You ready, Luce?”

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?” She grabbed a pair of flip-flops from the hall closet and put them on. If she had to go, she’d go in comfortable shoes, especially ones her dad hated. He had a thing about being proper and presentable, and flip-flops were anything but on his list. They didn’t go perfectly with her sweater or the chilly weather, but she didn’t care. Winter in the San Francisco Bay Area was pretty tame anyway. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Sam locked the door behind them. As they followed Lucas and Lexi down the driveway, she put her arm around Lucy’s shoulder and whispered, “The Chans have a son who’s a little older than you. I have a feeling you won’t be bored tonight.”

  The wink Sam added made Lucy smile. She had to admit, she had the coolest mom around. For someone in her mid-thirties, she actually treated kids with respect, plus she had an awesome fashion sense. She’d introduced Lucy to the teen section of department stores and picked out the sweatpants she wore today: gray ones with the word “sassy” in purple cursive on the back. Her wardrobe had been one of the reasons she’d been so popular at school … that is, until they moved during Christmas break a month ago. They still lived in the city of Milpitas, but now all the way across town. Not only was she an outsider at home, she was also one at her new school. It wasn’t fair.

  Those three words ran through her mind as she pushed her food around her plate half an hour later. She and Lexi had been
relegated to a square mah-jong table covered with a plastic tablecloth while the adults sat at the dining table. Her sister didn’t mind as she’d become fast friends with the Chan’s daughter. The two kindergarteners giggled together and played with a row of animal figures standing between their plates. Who did she have to talk to? No one. The Chan’s son was running home late from volunteering at the animal shelter.

  Lucy stabbed a pot-sticker with her chopsticks, holding one stick in each hand to poke holes in the doughy outer layer. She’d almost separated the filling from the skin when a shadow fell over her. Biting her lower lip, she looked up, expecting to see her dad’s disapproving face. Instead a teenager with a lopsided grin sat down beside her. He had a head of thick black hair and dark brown eyes like the color of Oreo cookies. His white polo shirt was covered in black hair, likely from a dog or a cat.

  “I eat pot-stickers that way, too. I thought I was the only one who did that.” He set his plate of food on the table. “I’m Micah, by the way. Sorry I’m late.”

  She set her chopsticks down. Was he actually talking to her? The only boy who ever paid attention to her was her cousin Benji, but he and his gross bathroom jokes didn’t count. Micah seemed different, taller and more serious and mature. Maybe even cute. A strange sensation tingled in her tummy, making her cheeks warm. “I-I’m Lucy.”

  “Hi Lucy. “Micah reached over to ruffle his sister, Hope’s, hair. “It looks like these two are having a good time. I hope you weren’t too bored with no one to talk to.”

  “No problem,” she shrugged, trying to sound cool. “This is what lunch is like for me at school every day.”

  He eyed her for a moment and a line appeared between his eyebrows. “That’s not cool.”

  “It’s okay,” she offered, even though it wasn’t. “I’m getting used to it.”

  “I hope you don’t. We all need friends. It may take time, but I’m sure you’ll make some new ones soon.”

  How could he be so sure? “How do you know? Have you ever had to move?”

  “No,” he answered between bites of food, “but a lot of things work out after a while. God’s in control and there’s a reason for everything that happens.”

  Wow. Micah wasn’t just mature, he was ancient. No kid talked this way. “How old are you?”

  “I’m thirteen. Why?”

  “You sound older than that.”

  His mouth curved up in a confident grin. “I do, don’t I? I think it’s ’cause my voice is getting dee … per”—he grimaced as the vowel came out as a squeak—“most of the time that is.”

  Lucy giggled to see the tips of Micah’s ears turn red. “I didn’t mean your voice. It’s what you said. You talk about God the way my pastor does. He’s got white hair and wrinkles, kinda like Santa, but wiser.”

  He chuckled. “I only talk that way because it’s true. God works out everything for our good, for those who love Him and are called to His purpose. There’s a verse in Romans that talks about that. You’ll see.”

  “But the Bible was written like a bazillion years ago. How do you know what it says still works today?” Sure, she’d been going to Sunday school her whole life, but she still wasn’t sure about half the stuff she learned. Maybe Micah understood it.

  He glanced over at the adults’ table where their parents were trading stories about work and parenting. Lowering his voice, Micah confided to her, “I saw it happen with my family. My parents split up for a while when I was eight. My mom and I got into a car accident, but because of that, my dad started spending more time with us and they got back together. I also prayed for a sibling and God gave us Hope. Everything worked out in the end. You just need to have faith.”

  She saw he meant well, but his words sounded empty to her. “That’s easy for you to say. Things worked out for you, but that doesn’t mean they always do. Sometimes people get sick and they don’t get better. Sometimes”—she clenched her hands—“the people you love die.”

  Micah stopped eating, a pot-sticker inches away from his mouth. He set it down and cocked his head. “Did someone you love pass away?”

  The fried rice on her plate became a blur of white, yellow, and green hues as tears gathered in her eyes. How embarrassing. Micah would think she was a cry-baby. She took a deep breath and looked up. “My mom. She had cancer. She died when I was three.”

  “I had no idea. I’m really sorry,” he frowned. “So that’s your stepmom?”

  “Yeah. She’s cool though. If I could’ve picked someone to be my mom, I would’ve picked her. I’m glad my dad married her. That part worked out, I guess.”

  One side of his mouth curved up. “It makes sense now. I was wondering why you don’t look like them.”

  Yeah, she’d never be as Chinese as her parents or her half-sister. She was like the oddball in Sesame Street’s “one of these things aren’t like the others” game. “My mom was part Irish and part English. People always wonder why I look different from the rest of my family. When I’m with my parents and sister, I’m too pale. When I visit my grandma—my mom’s mom—people wonder why my hair’s not blonde and my eyes aren’t blue. Sometimes I wish I could dye my hair black so I’d kinda fit in somewhere. Then people wouldn’t stare at me.”

  “I think your hair’s cool. Black’s pretty boring if you ask me. Don’t tell anyone, but when I get older I want to dye my hair, too.”

  “Really? What color?”

  “Maybe some streaks of blond or white. Then I’d look like Dumbledore.” He paused. “He’s the headmaster of the Hogwarts, you know, from Harry Potter.”

  Lucy shook her head. “My dad won’t let me watch that. But I hear kids talk about it all the time. He’s the good wizard, right?”

  “Yep. He’s super smart and watches out for everyone. That’s what I try to do, help my family and friends whenever I can.”

  “That’s cool. I’ve always wanted an older brother or sister. It’d be nice to have someone to look up to. Hope’s lucky to have you.”

  Micah’s eyes brightened. “Hey, now that we’re next door neighbors, I’m sure our families will be hanging out a lot. If you want, I can be your honorary big brother. You could ask me about classes or homework or even boys—”

  “Eww, yuck,” Lucy piped up with disgust. “I don’t like boys. They’re disgusting.”

  “Okay, no boys yet,” he laughed. “But if you have questions about anything, you can ask me. I’ll be happy to help.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. And the best part is you don’t have to share a bathroom with me. What do you think?”

  Micah’s offer made Lucy feel accepted for the first time in a long time. Dinner was turning out way better than she expected. With his help, she’d find a way to fit in at her new school. She picked up her chopsticks, her appetite suddenly returning. She gave him a wide grin and nodded. “Thanks, Micah. I’d like that.”

  * * *

  Present Day (January)

  Lucy poked her head into Micah’s counseling office. “Ready to go, Mikey?”

  He looked up from his desk and motioned for her to sit. From the way his brows were drawn together, Lucy assumed he was in the middle of a serious phone conversation. She tapped her manicured nails on the wooden armrest and exhaled. If they didn’t get going soon, they’d hit traffic. Rush hour usually started at three o’clock in the afternoon, but it got a lot worse by five, the exact time of their appointment. They couldn’t risk being late, not today. Not on the day she was introducing her boyfriend to her big brother.

  Lucy smiled. The smartly dressed man in a blue dress shirt and khakis wasn’t her blood sibling, but he might as well be. Micah had kept his word since they met to do everything an older brother would do: answer questions, give advice, and tease her whenever possible. He had changed in many ways over the past fifteen years—grown half a foot, gained a deeper voice and enough facial hair to require shaving daily—but his heart was the same. Always willing and eager to help people and watch out for them. B
eing a school counselor was the perfect job for him. He’d helped her navigate through some of the toughest times in her life and now he was doing the same for the students at Union High School.

  She considered it a privilege to see him in his element. After she experienced what her dad referred to as a reality check (and what she called being broke), she’d given up on her dream of becoming an actress. Instead, she was helping to train up future actors as a drama teacher. It wasn’t as glamorous as Hollywood, but she was able to support herself. And the best part? She worked with Micah every day.

  He hung up the call and placed the receiver down. “Hey, sorry about that. Let me lock up and we can go.”

  “No problem.” His voice was more weary than normal, even for a Friday afternoon. “Is everything okay? I bet a lot of the juniors are freaking out about how they did on the SAT last week. Did you have kids lined up out the door to talk to you today?”

  Micah’s lips curved up for a split second. “You can always tell when I have something on my mind. That was a parent of a student who’s having a hard time.”

  “Is he or she going to be okay?”

  “I hope so.” Sighing, he closed the file cabinet behind him and locked it. “These kids should be enjoying their classes and having fun with their friends, not acting out.”

  “Let me guess, the family’s going through some problems?”

  “Yes, the parents are separating. I know how painful that can be.” He grabbed his messenger bag and coat and headed for the door.