Aloha, Baby!: The Escape Series, #0.5

By Ann Omasta

Ready to escape to Hawaii?

Let this novella whisk your mind away to where the palm trees sway!

Alone and pregnant... 

 

Leilani Kehele never thought those words would describe her, yet that is exactly how she finds herself in Aloha, Baby!

 

Feeling like a huge disappointment to her family, Lani turns to her two handsome and loyal best friends, Kai and Honi, for advice. 

 

In an attempt to arrange the best possible outcome for this challenging situation, the three hatch a plan to give Lani's baby a father. Will it work? Will Lani and her baby discover their happily-ever-after ending?

 

This novella is part of The Escape Series, which includes the Scout winning book, Getting Lei'd, Cruising for Love, Island Hopping, and the sweet short story, Coconutty Christmas. You can read and enjoy these books in any order!

 

Escape into the enchanting Hawaiian Islands now with Leilani, Kai, and Honi while you read this heartwarming friends-to-lovers romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: More Happily Ever Afters
• Release date: Aug 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386752615

Ann Omasta

Ann Omasta is a USA Today bestselling author.  Ann’s Top Ten list of likes, dislikes, and oddities: I despise whipped cream. There, I admitted it in writing. Let the ridiculing begin. Even though I have lived as far south as Key Largo, Florida, and as far north as Maine, I landed in the middle. If I don't make a conscious effort not to, I will drink nothing but tea morning, noon, and night. Hot tea, sweet tea, green tea––I love it all. There doesn't seem to be much in life that is better than coming home to a couple of big dogs who are overjoyed to see me. My other family members usually show significantly less enthusiasm about my return. Singing in my bestest, loudest voice does not make my family put on their happy faces. This includes the big, loving dogs referenced above. Yes, I am aware that bestest is not a word. Dorothy was right. There's no place like home. All of the numerous bottles in my shower must be lined up with their labels facing out. It makes me feel a little like Julia Roberts' mean husband from the movie Sleeping with the Enemy, but I can't seem to control this particular quirk. I love, love, love finding a great bargain! Did I mention that I hate whipped cream? It makes my stomach churn to look at it, touch it, smell it, or even think about it. Great––now I'm thinking about it. Ick! ** I would LOVE to send you a free copy of my novella, Aloha, Baby! Visit annomasta.com for details. ** Stay up-to-date on new releases and insider info by liking / following Ann: - Facebook: facebook.com/annomasta - Goodreads: goodreads.com/annomasta - Bookbub: bookbub.com/authors/ann-omasta - Website: annomasta.com

Book preview

1

Pregnant and alone . These are words that I never imagined would apply to me. Like everyone else I know, I had always dreamed of finding true love, getting married, and then (and only then) having a baby, and living happily ever after. That is the natural order of progression. It is the way things are supposed to go.

So, why in the world did I go and get myself into this predicament? What had I been thinking? I hadn't been thinking. That is the only explanation for my reckless behavior. I allowed myself to be swept away by romanticizing what turned out to be a dalliance, and in the process, I managed to ruin any chance I had of enjoying a 'normal' and traditional life.

The most I can hope for now is finding someone who will love not only me, but also my fatherless child. I have severely limited my options and possibly alienated my soul mate. After all, how many men are dreaming of finding their one true love, who also just happens to already be knocked up by another man? My guess is that the answer to that question is a big fat zero.

I have been dreading telling my parents about my 'situation.' They are both very conservative and traditional. They have always warned me about the dangers of falling for someone from the mainland. I'm afraid that my news will shock them immensely. Or worse yet, they'll use the ultimate parent guilt-trip phrase––I'm disappointed in you. Those words tend to cut particularly deep for me.

Being their only daughter, I have always tried to live up to their extremely high expectations. I've attempted to appear perfect to them, despite knowing that I am nowhere near that level. In school, I became the straight-A student, the cheerleader, the Homecoming Queen, and the lead in all of our high school drama club plays. I did all of this in the hopes of making it up to my parents for being a girl.

My brother never had to work so hard (or at all) for their love. He was praised just for being alive and male. I, however, consistently felt like they wished I had been their second son. Having heard my father speak of an heir and a spare more times than I care to remember, I was well aware that I wasn't the 'spare' he had dreamed of. So, I became the consummate overachiever in a desperate attempt to compensate for being born without a penis.

Not going to college had been my first overt act of rebellion. Turning down my full-ride scholarship is something for which my parents will probably never forgive me. I hadn't felt ready to leave behind everything and everyone I had ever known, especially my two lifelong best friends, Kai and Honi, to go to the mainland.

I was afraid to leave and risk losing an important part of myself in the process. Our island's culture and traditions are ingrained into my soul, but I was concerned that my distinct sense of self might become blurred if I were to leave. I didn't want to become part of the melting pot. My parents should have been proud of me for that. Unfortunately, all they focused on were the unredeemed possibilities.

Whenever the opportunity arose, they liked to point out the fact that I was still just working at 'that little hotel.' The disparaging words they used to describe the fabulously authentic resort where I worked made my blood boil. Even the fact that I have become a profit-sharing owner in the successful seaside escape didn't sway their opinions of my career choice.

Rather than admitting that I am already building a sizable nest egg through a career that fulfills me, my parents choose to point out at frequent intervals that I am a glorified maid. In some respects they are right. I do fill in for housekeeping. I also fill in for bartending, reception, grounds, and whatever else needs to be done at the time. All of the employees jump in and help out wherever we are needed. The direct result of the employees being shareholders in the resort is that we all love it as our own (because it is our own) and will do whatever it takes to make it a smashing success. After all, it's in our own best interest.

Even Kai, whose family built the resort from the ground up, isn't afraid to plunge a toilet or launder the sheets and towels. Though he runs the resort, he quickly volunteers to work in the trenches when the need arises. In return, he expects the same from the rest of our close-knit crew. We all gladly comply with anything he requests of us because he respects us and rewards us generously for our loyalty and hard work.

Honestly, it doesn't even feel like work at the resort. We all have fun and love our jobs. It's like getting to hang out with a second family that you like better than your real family. Plus, the longer we stay employed there, the more ownership percentage shares we acquire, which leads to earning more money. Talk about a win-win situation. We have yet to have our first employee/owner quit since Kai instituted the employee shareholder plan. It's that terrific of a place to work. My parents fail to see any of that, though.

Speaking of my parents, my phone is jingling with the song Mother Knows Best from Rapunzel's movie, Tangled. Mom hates the choice I made for my phone's ringtone for her, but the title perfectly describes how she feels. She seems to think that I should just do whatever she says simply because she feels that she knows better than I do. She has always been heavy on the because I said so reasoning in lieu of a valid explanation.

Even though she is returning my call, I chicken out and don't answer. I fully intend to tell her and my father about the pregnancy––just not right this second. I have to do it soon, though, because my body is starting to betray my secret. My belly is already protruding like I just scarfed down a jumbo basket of Parmesan truffle fries. I smile to myself, realizing that I know exactly what that looks like from first-hand experience.

The supply of brown paper bags tucked away in my purse is the other dead giveaway to my pregnancy. The near-constant nausea and frequent vomiting this pregnancy has 'blessed' me with are becoming difficult to explain away. Fortunately, I've become extremely adept at quietly slipping away to a hidden corner and throwing up with minimal sound into one of my trusty bags. I guess that's fortunate, anyway. It's not exactly a skill that I had ever dreamed of mastering...Leilani, Queen of the Quiet Pukers. I can't understand why my parents aren't proud.

Chuckling at my silly, wayward thoughts, I am once again distracted by a song playing from my phone. This time the lyrics to My Girl by The Temptations are blaring to indicate an incoming call from my father. It startles me so much that I nearly drop my phone. The song brings back instant, wonderful memories of the time when I was about 10 years old and Dad was in a rare, silly mood. He danced down our hallway one morning, holding my hand and serenading me with this tune. It is