Posey nods solemnly, then immediately races toward the water's edge with Edison bounding beside her.
I join Tara, and together we follow Posey's enthusiastic exploration. The tension from last night still crackles between us—every accidental brush of our hands, every shared glance loaded with memory of how her body felt pressed against mine.
"She's having the time of her life," Tara says softly, watching Posey crouch by the water's edge, carefully examining every stone.
"Yeah," I agree, but I'm watching Tara instead. Admiring her graceful figure, her mesmerizing green eyes.
Twenty minutes into our arrowhead hunt, Tom's phone rings.
"What? Where?" He presses the phone closer to his ear. "How many injured?"
He turns away from us, but I catch fragments: "Multi-car pileup... Route 3A... need every available responder..."
When he faces us again, he's already fishing the keys from his pocket. "There's been a serious accident on the other side of the island. I'm a volunteer EMT—I'm the closest responder available right now."
His serious eyes meet mine.
"You and your family will have to wait here. I've already ordered a car to pick you up as soon as one becomes available."
"How long will it be?" I ask.
"Hard to say. Emergency personnel are responding to the accident."
"We understand," Tara says. "We'll be fine."
He's gone in seconds.
I watch Tom's car disappear until it's completely out of sight. Then I turn to watch Tara and Posey digging for arrowheads in the mud.
I feel slightly freaked out, being abandoned in the middle of nowhere. But like Tara said, we'll be fine.
CHAPTER 30
CAMERON
"Hey Daddy Cameron," Posey calls out, her fair skin flushed pink from two hours under the relentless afternoon sun. But it seems true what they say about Nantucket weather and sudden storms. Low gray clouds now cast an ominous shadow over our expedition.
"When's Tom coming back? I'm getting hungry."
"Maybe twenty minutes," I tell her, checking my phone again—still no signal. "Just enough time for you to find one more arrowhead for your collection."
She nods, returning to her excavation beside the murky pond.
Tara settles beside me on the weathered log, close enough that her bare shoulder brushes mine. Memories of last night's kiss flood back with punishing clarity.
"When do you think we'll get internet again? The guide couldn't have just forgotten us out here."
"Are you calling him irresponsible?" I tease, fighting the urge to pull her closer. "You're the one who researched and hired him."
"Very funny." She delivers a playful punch to my shoulder.
"Ouch!" She jerks her hand back like she's been burned. "Jesus, that hurt! You need to ease up on the gym obsession."
The brief contact of her knuckles against my chest sends electricity crackling between us. I catch her wrist instinctively, ready to wrestle her down for a kiss.
Then I remember our mandate.
Keep it professional. For Posey's sake.
