“The trees,” Robby said. “The guyinthe trees. Check out what he has tucked into the back of his jeans.”
Carter scanned the little island until the man Robby was talking about came into focus. The dude had on a sky-blue T-shirt and jeans. And when he bent to pick up a palm frond, Carter saw what was causing Robby to have a conniption.
“He’s packing.” Those two words were little more than a growl as Carter handed the binoculars to Kenny. “That motherfucking ispacking.”
Chapter 11
1:34 PM...
Romeo wished he could take back asking Mia to call him by his given name.
He wasn’t sure why he’d done that. He hadn’t even realized he’dwantedto. But something about the moment had made him blurt out the request.
Maybe because they’d just survived a plane crash. Or maybe because she’d been so scared for him that it’d made him feel cherished and special in a way he never had before.
Regardless of why, he’d asked her to call him Spiro, and now she was all wigged out.
It was like when she first arrived on Wayfarer Island. She wasn’t just quiet. She was givingSilent Boba run for the money in the mute department.
She’d listened while he explained how they were looking for a place in the center of the island—preferably a small depression—where they could put the life raft and then build a windbreak with palm leaf mats. She’d nodded once theyfoundthat place and he started pulling down palm fronds. And she’d watched his hands with interest while he showed her how to peel off the individual fronds, remove the middle stick, and then lay the remaining leaflets out flat before beginning to weave.
She’d even hummed her interest when he’d told her, “I learned to make these when I was on leave in Thailand. An old woman on a beach in Phuket taught me.”
But she hadn’t made another sound since. And now the silence had stretched so far between them, he couldn’t figure out how to bridge the gap.
Once again, the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him.
The first time he’d spent the night with her and awakened to her new-found tenderness toward him, he’d presumed—wrongly—that she thought he was open to more than friendship. When he’d made it clear he wasn’t, she’d been quick to inform him that one, even though everyone was entitled to their wrong assumptions,hiswrong assumptions made him an ass. And two, just because she was sweet and caring toward him didn’t mean she expected romance in return.
Now here he’d asked her to call him Spiro, and damned if he didn’t get the impressionshewas the one worriedhewanted more.
The real kicker? She wasn’t wrong.
Hedidwant more.
He wanted toknowher. Know all the reasons she broke out one of her rare smiles. Hear all her dry jokes. Learn what it would take to make her sigh with happiness. Understand all her flaws and hear all about her mistakes the same way he wanted to understand all her strengths and hear all about her victories.
He’d never experienced anything like it. This craving toknowanother human being on every level. And if he’d been someone else, anyone else, he’d have jumped at the opportunity for more.
He wasn’t someone else, though. He washimand—
He was stopped from further reflection when he glanced over and found her lips curved into a wistful smile.
He’d always thought of her as slightly ethereal. But the expression on her face now was so soft and gentle, he almost leaned forward to brush a finger over her cheek. Just to make sure she was real and not a figment of his imagination.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked, glad to have something to break the silence.
She didn’t lift her eyes from the work her hands were doing, which meant he had to lean forward to catch her quiet words.
“I don’t know exactly.” She shook her head. Then, she reconsidered. “No. That’s not true. I’m smiling because I’m happy to be alive. I’m happyyou’realive. I’m happy to have two working hands so I can help you build our shelter. It’s the little things at times like these, right?”
When she laughed softly, he swore he heard the sound with something other than his ears. Something that beat heavily inside his chest.
“We humans are miracles,” she added, glancing up at him.
Like always, the instant their eyes met, he started drowning. Sinking further and further into her amber-colored gaze until he was deeper than he’d been when he’d followed the Otter on her final journey.
In so deep he could barely think.
