A door at the back of the room leads to a bathroom with double sinks framed in marble and open shelving in the cabinets beneath, punctuated with bamboo baskets instead of drawers. Double mirrors, hanging pendant lights, and a bright atmosphere add the perfect touches. I like it.

Around a corner, I find a softly shadowed hallway, a huge closet, a king-size soaker tub, then another doorway. When I push it open, I find a giant walk-in indoor/outdoor shower made of gray lava rock. The walls on three sides protect anyone from seeing in, but whoever built this place was smart enough to cut an open window with a direct view of the palms and the ocean. There’s even a pedestal for bath items. Five shower heads line one wall that must be six feet long. A whole football team could probably shower in here at once and never touch.

“Oh, my gosh…” Keeley’s bare feet patter along the stone floor as she drinks it all in. “Can I just die here? This is…”

“Stunning,” I finish for her.

“Yeah. But not stuffy. Why would anyone sell this place?”

I shrug. “Hawaii is more of a destination than a residence for some people. They buy a house, thinking they’ll come here more often than they do. A few years slide by. They realize they’re paying taxes, maintenance, whatever…and just not finding the time or energy to come here enough to justify the money.”

“That’s crazy. If this place was mine, I’d forget ever going back to Phoenix. I’d live here and never leave.”

I see what she means. It’s secluded. Quiet. A stroll in gives me a sense that I should relax more, worry less, share this world with someone important. I glance Keeley’s way.

Dangerous train of thought…

“Well, we can’t stay,” I remind her as I grab snapshots of this bedroom and bathroom area. “Let’s see about the rest.”

On the other side of the main living area is another bedroom, similar in size and color to the first. This one is set up as a children’s room with two double beds, a big TV, and a pair of comfy chairs with a library of books and DVDs. The bathroom is smaller but stylish. More than adequate for a guest or two.

“So cute,” she remarks. “If I’d had this bedroom growing up…” With a shake of her head, she glances out over the expanse of the ocean. “I would never have sneaked out and found trouble.”

“You were a bad girl?” That surprises me.

“Terrible,” she assures. “When I was thirteen, my best friend, Betsy, and I toilet-papered the house of the cute boy down the street, then we took his bike, which he’d left on his front porch, for a joyride all the way to the end of the block.”

“Did you return it?”

“We did,” she concedes with a teasing grin. “But it was almost midnight.”

“Scandalous.” I shake my head as if I’m very disappointed.

“Totally. I followed that up at fifteen by sneaking out to study with some kids in my biology class at the all-night pancake house down the road.”

“You were worried about your grade?”

“No. There was another cute boy. He dared me to sneak out my window.”

I pause. If I dare her to lose those shorts and muss up one of these beds with me…

“Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no.” She shakes her head.

“What?” I go for innocent. “I was just thinking that we should look upstairs.”

“Sure you did, perv. Let’s go.”

She follows me up, onto the landing. I walk beyond the delicate chair and small table with the glowing lamp, then push open the double doors. A humongous bed on a raised wooden dais sits majestically under a teak ceiling. Just like the floor below, the usual doors have been removed in favor of a sliding glass wall that’s been shoved off to one side, allowing open skies and the Pacific breeze to stream in.

“Holy ocean view…” Keeley whispers beside me.

“Yeah.” Nothing but blue water, white sand, green grass, and swaying palms. It really is perfect.

Through the opening, a deck jets out onto the rooftop covering the lanai directly below. A round table, chairs for two, and a chaise take up the space. The vistas go on forever. I’ve lived on Maui for so long that I often think I’m immune to the sights of beautiful tropical beaches. I joke sometimes that I’m going to vacation in Alaska for a change of pace. Then a place like this comes along and reminds me why I didn’t move back to the mainland when I had the chance.

You just can’t beat Maui. It’s not perfect, but it’s damn well become home.

In fact, if I had my own family, I wouldn’t mind calling this particular place my home.

Keeley seems to float to the edge of the railing and stare out at the unobstructed views. I know in my head that there are neighbors nearby, but they’re far out of sight. Someone planted palms years ago along the property line so the illusion of being utterly alone with nature is completely maintained.

“Just…wow.”

I couldn’t agree more. I see beautiful places every day. I deal in them. I never look at anything that isn’t gorgeous. But this is special. Homey. “I know.”

“Not to depress myself, but what does a place like this cost?”

“About five and a half million. It would be more, except it’s only three bedrooms and three thousand square feet.”

“Only?” She snorts. “I could put four of my last apartment in here and still have room leftover.”

She isn’t exaggerating. I saw it as we moved her out and wondered how the hell she didn’t trip over her own two feet in there.

“I can see this as a bed and breakfast. It would be cozy and quaint. Exactly what I wanted…” Her face looks wistful, but her posture is completely defeated. “There’s no way I can come up with that kind of money.”

“There are less expensive places on the water. If you find something with good bones, you can fix it up and give it the kind of charm you want, especially if you’re handy or an out-of-the-box thinker.”

Keeley bobs her head. “Yeah…but I don’t know if I can ever accomplish this.”

“Don’t give up before you start,” I murmur as I step behind her at the railing.

It’s all I can do to keep my hands off her. I want to touch her—that’s a given. But I’d like to comfort her, too. Tell her I’ll help her and that it’s going to be all right.