Hunter stepped toward me, and my knees pushed into his taut abs, as he reached for the rope and his fingers looped around the cable above me.
Our faces were on the same level, our noses a few inches apart. I stared into his blue eyes. My stomach did an odd flip—probably due to poor diet and over-exhaustion. It was rude to stare, but it was hard not to with him being in my personal space. Hunter hadn’t shaved in days, his stubble masking a tiny mole above his cupid’s bow and another at the corner of his mouth.
“You look as if you want to say something.” His heated gaze locked with mine.
“You’re in my face.”
His lips curved up, and his arm muscles tensed. He yanked on the cable. My knees crashed to the ground, my face now at his crotch.
“Is this better?” he asked.
Bastard.
I backed away as if he had burned me. Without losing momentum, he changed the positions of his hands and heaved once more. TheReely Nautiswayed and rocked, slowly lurching off its side and sliding into the holding stand with a loud swoosh.
Hunter looped the rope around a tree trunk and tugged on it hard. He placed his right foot against the trunk and groaned, pulling on the cable. His skin glittered, his back and arm muscles flexing and rippling with each movement. I averted my gaze from Hunter’s juicy, round ass that should be illegal for any man to have.
Hunter tied a knot and looked at me, his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Well, this is the moment we were waiting for. You ready?” He straightened to his full height and marched around the boat.
My chest hurt again, and I rubbed it. Of course I was ready. This was what I had wanted ever since I opened my eyes for the first time in Hunter’s hut: to go home. I jumped to my feet and rushed after him to face the moment of truth.
ChapterThirteen
And the truth was a total fucktastrophe and we were utterly screwed.
“Oh God.” I covered my gaping mouth. “It’s huge.”
“That’s what she said,” Hunter said in a low voice as if to himself, his eyes assessing the damage.
“I’m glad one of us still has a sense of humor.”
The giant hole facing us sucked in the last hope I had to get out of there. TheReely Nautilooked like a prop fromJaws. The rupture started from the middle of the starboard and ran at least five feet to the stern. One part of the opening was wide enough for me to slide through it easily. How did this happen? I looked at the bay with boulders sticking out in the distance, but the boat was secured to the dock, so it shouldn’t have a ravine.
Swallowing, I turned to Hunter. “Can you fix it?” Why did I even ask when I knew the answer wasare you kidding me?
He raked frustrated hands over his hair, then linked them on the top of his head. “Only with magic.”
I wanted to cry. Like really hard. Like a tired toddler. And I was tired. So, so physically exhausted. Never in my life had I done as much manual labor as I had in the last week. And it was all for nothing. We might need to play more “get to know you” games since we were screwed for an indefinite number of days.
“Can we at least try, please?” There was no hope in my tone, just desperation. “Stuff the hole with life jackets or those fishing buoys.”
He cast me a tired sideways look, his jaw clenching as if he was on the edge of impatience, before turning on his heels and marching into the shadows of the jungle where his workshop was.
My feet moved to follow Hunter, but I faltered. Perhaps he needed some time alone, a space to process our circumstances. Just like me, he had a life and business to get back to, and the Grand Canyon on the side of theReely Nautiwas a mega drawback. I had to find a quiet place where I could come to terms with the fact that I was stuck on this island until we could catch a ride on some random passing boat or seaplane.
I padded down the coastline toward the hut, my feet sinking into the warm sand. In the heart of the horizon, the sun hung low, its amber rays skidding upon rolling waves. As I neared the leaning palm tree, a bright green object perched on the black rocks stole my attention. The color looked similar to the washed-up toddler lifejacket we found yesterday while cleaning the beach. Changing my course, I walked to the water, concentrating on the piece of trash.
The closer I got, the slower my breathing became, and then my heart jolted when I recognized the floating bag holding the urn with my father’s ashes. Excitement rippled and a startling new hope shot through me: I haven’t failed my father. I could finish his mapped-out sailing trips, spreading his ashes. I couldlearn how to sail and buy a good boat with the money from the house sale. I didn’t have to do it all in one year. Or maybe I should? Take a gap year or two and say “screw it” to my job. Okay, I may have gone too far there.
I hesitated, turning to see if I could find Hunter first, but then a wave hit the rocks, its white talons grazing the bag.
Without further thought, I waded knee-deep into the water but stopped short. The wave had wedged the bag much higher than I could reach without first climbing the darn rocks. To this day, fear of the water snakes had kept me away from that foot of the mountain. I’d watched Hunter wade into the ocean up to his thighs and disappear around the corner only to reappear a few feet higher, climbing on large stones, before sliding between two rocks and vanishing from view again. Not once did he get hurt. Maybe the snakes moved out or died, and the crabs ate them.
The wind was calm, but the waves crashed hard, reaching the bag’s bottom. A wave could push the bag off at any moment, and it would be lost in the sea forever. The right decision was to wait for Hunter, but I couldn’t lose my dad’s ashes again. I took a deep breath and approached the area in the same way I’d seen Hunter do many times before when tides were low.
I closed in on the spot, my eyes searching for snakes in the water and on nearby rocks. None so far. A school of bright fish darted around my legs. My heart thumped hard against my chest. This was a bad idea. Green seaweed blanketed a broad area with a large rock providing a great stepping stone to get higher. I stepped on the slippery rock, the algae carpet soft below my feet, and quickly crossed to the flat slab. I stopped, checked for snakes, and climbed on it. From here, the path wasn’t straightforward, just chunks and bits of the mountain piled up as if, at some point, the wall had collapsed. Passing between stones, I ascended to the next level. After another inspection pause, I maneuvered to improve my footing and went higher.
Then I shifted sideways with my chest and stomach pressed hard against the boulder, the rays of sunlight warming my skin. With my fingers digging into the cracks, I navigated around the ledge, the unsympathetic surface of the stone abrading me. The bag was within my reach. Almost. My body trembled as I rose on my tiptoes, one hand holding onto the side of the rock and my feet close to sliding off its slick surface. I stretched as far as I could, reaching for the bag, my fingers hovering near the edge of the green plastic, so close yet unreachable. Unable to grab it, I rested my head against the stone. If Hunter saw me now he wouldn’t be happy, but I was sure he would understand later why I had to do this. Once he’d stopped being mad at me.
