Over the last few weeks, Will and I had become fixtures in each other's life. It was as if we were magnets—polar opposites yet when we were put together, nothing could separate us.
And, lucky for me, his family had embraced me with their whole hearts. Will had met my parents, and we’d had lunch with Hayden when he’d come into town to visit. I'd never felt more accepted.
"Yeah, kid?"
"Can I come next time?"
"When you're ten," I reminded him gently, gratefully accepting his offered hand. "But I promise, the moment you're ten, you and me, we're gonna go down and see the pirate ship."
"Swear?"
I nodded solemnly, crossing my heart and holding out my hand, my pinky cocked. "Pinky swear."
He linked his pinky with mine, giving it a shake. "Cool."
I hip-checked him. "Come on, let's eat."
Over lunch, Will and I regaled the boys with stories of what we'd seen while Ruth drove the boat, taking us back to the Capricorn Cove marina.
"You want the rest of my sandwich?" I asked Ryan, offering him the chicken club.
"You sure?" he asked, eyeing the delicious morsel.
"Yeah." I patted my stomach as we hit another small wave. "This rocking isn't sitting well with me."
"Thanks!" The teenager stuffed half of it in his mouth, chewing enthusiastically as we listened to Will describe the wreck for Sam.
Will's eyes met mine across the boat, his gaze warm and concerned. I waved him off, communicating without words that I was fine.
I twisted, tilting my head back, allowing the sea breeze to blow through my hair.
I'd never been in a relationship where I felt so at ease. There wasn't anything hard about this. We just clicked. Ever since the caves, Will had become my cheerleader and supporter. We finished each other's sentences, we laughed without saying a word, I sometimes found myself handing him something before he'd even asked for it.
This kind of instant connection was the type of thing I read about in books, not something that I'd ever expected to experience.
And yet, here I was. Living it. Living an actual love story.
My stomach jumped, my mouth filling with saliva as I twisted, bending over to puke over the side of the boat.
Well damn.
Will was immediately there, brushing back my hair, holding me as I retched.
"I got you," he soothed. "Sam, can you get Karrie a bottle of water?"
"On it, Dad."
I closed my eyes, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I have no idea what's gotten into me. I was fine on the way out, and it's way less choppy now."
Will shrugged, hands still soothing over my hair. "You're fine. Don't worry about it."
But back on land, the nausea didn't abate. A day passed, then two, with the nausea continuing.
"That's it, I'm taking you to the hospital," Will declared on Tuesday morning. He stood in my doorway, hands-on-hips as he stared down at me curled around the toilet bowl.
"It's just a gastro bug," I protested weakly. "I'll be fine."
"Hush. We'll let the doctors work it out."
