He motioned to press the screen. “Any red?”
She tapped the green wave then searched the entire screen twice to make sure. “No red dots.”
In one swift motion, he unhooked the lanyard from the Q40. “You did good.”
“You did better.” She smiled slightly then leaned in the other direction as he hoisted himself onto the Q40. “Don’t you need to get on from the back?”
He pointed beneath the seat. “This is outfitted with some extra grab handles. There’s a lot of advanced technology on OPAQUE’s Q40s.”
The distant sound of gunfire continued from the beach house. Sirens cut through the air. Even she knew that wasn’t good. “Should we go help them?”
“No.” Hard, deep, and barely a whisper, his voice cracked as he handed her one end of the ignition switch lanyard. “Clip that on.”
“Why?”
“If you fall off, the key pulls and kills the engine. Just like walking on a treadmill.”
She clipped it on her shirt. “What about you?”
“I don’t plan to go for another swim tonight.” He cranked the engine and pushed a button, which raised a windshield. “You ever ride a motorcycle?”
“Yeah, on the back.”
He throttled up and they moved across the water. Slow and silent. “It’s like riding a bike. Lean when I lean. Tilt when I tilt.”
Holding onto his sides, she inched closer to him, pressing her breasts tight against the Neoprene top stretched taught across his back. His muscles changed the instant he moved. She could lean. She could tilt. She could do this.
Being with him made her feel safe. Even here. And somewhere in her scared inner self, she knew he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
Freeing her mind from the thought of being on the water, she imagined she was zooming up Route One in California instead. Rental convertible. Top down. Wind in her hair. Sure, there was wind in her hair now, but so was a misty spray and the smell of fish.
She’d made that trip up the California coastline the summer before her junior year of college. The world, and her dreams, had stretched out before her. Beautiful beach views, along with a stop at a local winery for a glass of pinot noir, were all she’d needed to be at ease with the world. Why had she never found time to take that trip again?
This, on the other hand, was a trip she never planned to take again. Not even if she were on a boat next time…with a life jacket.
She wiped a sudden spray of water from her cheek. Funny thing was, she loved beaches and sand, waves and sea gulls, even loved being in a pool where she could touch the bottom or hold onto the sides. The idea of swimming in water over her head scared her to death. No matter how much her friends had told her of all the beautiful sights lurking beneath the surface, they’d never convinced her to try snorkeling with a life jacket. The idea of scuba diving with air tanks made her blood run cold.
At least she could say she’d ridden a Q40, seated behind one heck of a sexy man. Bossy…but still sexy. If someone wasn’t out to hurt her, or her dad, she’d have missed even that opportunity. What else had she missed in her life?
Maybe Drake had been right years ago, when he’d eaten the entire banana split. What if the next breath never came? What would she regret? When this was all over, that Route One trip would be the first thing on her to-do list.
The ebb and flow of the Q40’s movements gliding across the water lulled her nerves that had skyrocketed with adrenaline. Without meaning to, she felt herself sitting upright, feeling the Q40 motions without needing the help of Mitch’s movements. After a while, she opened her eyes and saw he was following the distant lights of the shoreline. Slowly, his angle changed, and they headed out into the darkness. He throttled up to a faster running speed, but one that still ran quiet.
He whipped to the side as if avoiding an obstacle. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She leaned around him enough to look at the dash screen. “What are the dark blobs?”
“Schools of fish or dolphins. Maybe a…”
“Shark?”
“I was going to say whale.” He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Or, maybe it’s a chunk of coral.”
She doubted that. But the fact he’d tried to make her relax made her feel better.
“Time to kick into high gear. You hold on tight.” The engine grabbed with a ferocious lunge then leveled out to speed. His back and arm muscles hardened beneath her touch.
This was another whole level of running flat-out. The windshield helped, but the spray and wind whipped her skin even though she huddled behind his body. She couldn’t imagine the brunt of force he had to be feeling. He swerved, and she grabbed his sides tighter. They hit a wave and caught air, hit another and flew again. The hard jolt of Q40 against the thud of water as they landed said those had been some big waves. What made waves like that out here?
