As if she was reading my mind, she took two sticks from the pile and started rubbing them together, gently blowing on them. She was clearly wasting her time, but it was pointless to reason with her. Just when I opened my mouth to tell her it was time to give up, a perfect stream of smoke piped up from the stick. I slammed my eyes so far in the back of my head that it hurt, but oddly I wasn’t even surprised at this point.
“I learned how to do this for my movie.” A pleasant smile grew on her face as she fed the fire leaves and branches until a good-sized flame grew. Then she sat back right next to me, crossing her legs in front of her like it was normal for us to sit so close. When her gaze slid over toward me, the reflection of the flame danced in her eyes.
I had noticed she was this stunning when I first saw her, but I started to feel a nervous unease sitting this close to her. I’m not anti-social, but she kept batting her lashes, as if she truly believed I was her husband. It sent a nervous flutter to mygut, and just when I couldn’t handle it anymore, I jolted and stuttered, “A-Ah, let me look at that knot on your head.”
She didn’t resist when I scooted over and examined her head, running my fingers along her scalp. Even though the knot was huge, it wasn’t cut or bleeding. “It looks mostly okay. Be sure to take it easy, especially if you get lightheaded.”
She was quiet about my assessment. When I returned my gaze to her face, there was a peacefulness in her eyes that drew me in. “Tell me about us,” she said in a dreamy voice. “What kinds of things did we like to do together?”
She seemed so hopeful, and I didn’t have the heart to destroy her fairytale. Not today anyway, and I certainly didn’t want her to go back into her crybaby mode, so I tried to come up with something. “Uh, normal stuff. You know, eating. Talking—”
She leaned closer, the reflection of the flames dancing in her irises. “Do we dance?”
“Um....” My voice squeaked, and a nervous sweat beaded my brow. I mean—not nervous—but from the heat of the fire. I wasn’t cut out for this storytelling stuff. I had never been in any sort of a romantic pairing before. I wasn’t a huge fan of dancing, but I would imagine if we had been a real couple, we would enjoy dancing together. “Yeah, we do like to dance,” I lied, slapping another layer of sweat on my brow.
“I knew I would marry a man who loved to dance.” Her eyes locked on me, and they shone with an endless spiral of sparkles, emitting so much undeserved affection. “When I was little, and first saw how Prince Charming held Cinderella so lovingly, I knew I wanted a man like that.”
“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath, trying to turn my attention to the fire. “I think you told me that story once.”
She laughed a good-natured laugh that brightened up her whole face. “I’m sure more than once, right?”
Pulling my lips into a forced grin, I replied in my best even tone, “Many times.”
“Ah…” her sigh was wistful, the kind you’d make when you were remembering your most cherished memories. “So,” she went on, “you said you are a ship captain?”
I started to agree but stopped. What would she say if I told her the truth about myself? How I was a nobody. How I had grown up alone—many times going days without food—and became a professional thief. How everyone feared me, and no one had ever loved me.
It seemed ironic now. I spent my life devoid of love, wondering what it would be like, and here I was, by accident, with this insane woman who had been so easily convinced she was totally in love with me. So much so that the way she looked at me made my insides twist in turmoil. Shebelievedwe were together. She wouldn’t look at me like that if I told her the truth. “I am, yes, a captain.”
She slid her arm around my back. Warm goosebumps dotted my arms, and she giggled as she leaned even closer. “Do you always feel so rigid when we cuddle?”
Clearing my throat, I did my best to relax. Hating myself for lying, I yelled in my head this was the only way to get through the night because she wouldn’t believe me if I did tell her the truth. “I’m apprehensive about what we are going to do next.”
“Oh—” Her mouth made a perfect round circle when she tacked on, “a rescue boat will come for us sometime tomorrow.”
My lips formed an amused grin, and a small chuckle slipped out. As much as I wanted to tell her she wasridiculous, there was something weird about this island. I wanted to believe her, so I kept my lips sealed.
“I’m telling you, babe.” She butted her chin to rest on my arm, nestling her face into me. “It’s all going to work out. It always does.” The sensation of her being so affectionate toward mecaused my breath to hitch in my throat. I don’t think I could have spoken if I had wanted to, I didn’t even try. I glanced down at her at the exact moment she lifted her face to mine. We were so close; her soft breath tickled my cheek. Then in a voice, barely above a whisper, she said, “I bet you are the goat of husbands.”
Snorting, I bit back more waves of laughter. That was not what I had been expecting her to say. As hilarious as it was, the word husband seemed to burn deep in my chest. Her eyes were cemented on mine like she was expecting a response. I couldn’t lie with her being so close to me. I came up with the most honest answer that would fit. “I never expected I would ever be anyone’s husband.”
“Really?” She looked honestly shocked; maybe even hurt. “You didn’t want to marry me?”
“Oh, no,” I rushed to defend how that came out all wrong, and from instinct, I pulled her even closer. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I never expected to be so lucky to find someone like you.”
“Right.” Her eyes refilled with the sparkles they had held before. “Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? Like when you meet your person, you know it’s different.”
I sunk my teeth hard into my bottom lip. This whole conversation was tripping me out. She was a stranger I had met only a couple of hours ago. Now her eyes pierced mine like I was her whole world. I kept playing along, and whispered, “I think so.”
If I hadn’t known better, I swore disappointment flooded her eyes. Instead of asking a follow-up question like I had been sure she would, she lowered her gaze and got quiet.
Her jaw clenched, almost as though she was holding her breath. When it seemed she couldn’t hold it anymore, her cheek twitched, and her breath flowed out of her chest. Obviously deep in thought, she seemed to be working through her ownmemories. I didn’t want to interrupt her, but I wasn’t shy about letting her catch me looking at her. Oddly, I wanted her to know I was here.
When I was finally convinced her words had fallen away forever, her eyes slid over to mine, and before I had a chance to offer her a reassuring smile, she asked, “So, where were we going tonight, before our boat crash?”
Now, I swiped my brow, buying a few seconds. How am I supposed to play along with this story?I can’t just make up memories for her.
At the same time, I’d be a complete jerk to go back on my word now, and say we weren’t married.Just get through this one night and then you can ditch her.
