"Turtle tracks." Alex's voice had dropped to something almost reverent. "Recent. From last night,probably."
He moved toward the nest site with careful steps, gesturing for her to follow. The depression in the sand was barely visible—she would have walked right past it without knowing—but Alex knelt beside it with the certainty of someone who knew exactly what to look for.
"She came back to check the site," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "Good sign. Means the eggs are developing normally."
Lily crouched beside him, and Alex became acutely aware of how close they were. Her shoulder nearly brushed his. He caught the scent of her shampoo—something floral mixed with salt air—and had to force his attention back to the sand.
"So how does this work?" she asked. "The hatching, I mean. Do you just... wait?"
"Mostly. Incubation takes about sixty days. These eggs were laid roughly fifty-two days ago, so we're in the window. Could be any time in the next week or two." He traced the outline of the nest with his fingertip, not quite touching the sand. "When they hatch, they dig their way to the surface—usually at night, when it's cooler and there are fewer predators. Then they make a run for the ocean."
"That sounds terrifying. And kind of inspiring."
"It's both." He glanced at her, and for a moment, his guard was completely down. "I've seen it happen twice. Both times, I cried. Don't tell anyone."
Something softened in her expression—surprise, maybe, or tenderness. Whatever it was made his chest feel too tight.
"Your secret's safe with me, Dr. Carmichael."
"Alex."
"What?"
"You can call me Alex. I think we're past the formalities."
She smiled, and Alex felt warmth spread through his chest despite himself. "Okay. Alex."
They stayed at the nest site for another twenty minutes while Alex took measurements and made notes in a battered journal. Lily watched, asking occasional questions, genuinely curious about the process. He found himself enjoying her attention more than he wanted to admit—the way she leaned in to see what he was writing, the thoughtful pause before each question.
Who even are you becoming, Carmichael?
"There's something else I want to show you," Alexsaid, tucking the journal back into his bag. "If you're up for more walking."
"Lead the way."
The hidden lagoon was Alex's secret.
He'd discovered it during his first week on the island, stumbling across it while mapping the interior terrain. A geological quirk—some ancient volcanic activity combined with centuries of erosion—had created a perfect swimming hole, sheltered from the ocean but fed by underground springs that kept the water crystal clear.
He'd never planned to share it with anyone.
And yet here he was, watching Lily's face as she emerged from the final stretch of jungle and saw it for the first time.
"Oh my god." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Alex, this is..."
"I know."
The lagoon was roughly the size of a large swimming pool, ringed by dark volcanic rock softened by ferns and flowering vines. The water was an impossibleshade of turquoise, so clear you could see straight to the sandy bottom. Sunlight filtered through the canopy overhead, casting dappled patterns across the surface.
It looked like something from a fantasy movie. Like a place that shouldn't exist in the real world.
"You've been hiding this?" Lily turned to him, half-accusatory, half-awed. "This whole time, this has been here, and you didn't mention it?"
"I wasn't hiding it. I just..." He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. "It felt private."
Her expression softened. "So why show me now?"
Because I wanted to see your face when you saw it. Because I'm apparently a complete idiot. Because I can't seem to stop finding excuses to spend time with you.
