Her eyes dropped to my clothes, and she frowned. “Well, at least they’re clean. It’s not like I can pop into Anthropologie and get you something else, right? But I can make these fit better.” In a flash,Natalie adjusted my halter; the uncomfortable knot of fabric at my back vanished. Then she retied my skirt, making it shrink by inches.
“Stop tugging on it, Charley.” She intercepted my hand, grinning. “It’s not as short as you think. Plus, you only live once.” Her own words caught her off guard. I saw her stiffen, then close her eyes, fighting herself.
This time I hugged her.
“Natalie, it’s okay. You’ll make it.”
For a minute she just held me tight. Then she let go and wiped her eyes.
“Okay, that’s enough mushy gushy,” she said. “Otherwise we’ll smear our charcoal, and I worked hard on that.” Smiling, she draped the wreath of flowers around her neck. Then, like she’d done it dozens of times before, she grabbed a handful of tiny white blossoms from a small bowl and tucked them into her hair in three seconds flat, like pearls sparkling within the strawberry blond. “Thanks, Charley. I’m glad you’re here, even though I’m sorry you’re here.” She smiled, a real Natalie smile.
“Am I interrupting?” A voice at the doorway made my insides jump.
“You always are,” Natalie scolded Thad, grinning. “But don’t let that stop you.” She looked at me and winked.
Thad eased inside, and the A-frame suddenly seemed small.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.” Thad smiled at me, and for a second, there was no air. Same bare chest, same ripped abs, same golden hair touching his shoulders. He wore the twine necklace he always had on, but tonight it boasted a single caramel shell that blended with his skin; I’d have sworn it held a piece of black rock before. His eyes swept over me, lingering on my legs.
“You look”—he swallowed—“underdressed.”
“Really.” I lifted my chin, determined not to pull on my skirt. “You think so?”
“Definitely. And I know just how to fix it.” Pulling his hands from behind his back, he held a necklace of white flowers, woven together with a bright green vine. Simple, and gorgeous.
“May I?” he asked. For the first time, he looked uncertain.
I could only nod.
Thad moved closer. Inches away, he smelled like coconut and something fruity. With a movement so gentle it was almost a caress, Thad slipped the flower necklace over my head. “It’s a tradition that a veteran welcomes each rookie. Charley from Georgia, consider this an official welcome to Nil City.” His blue eyes were playful. “Last time I said that, you were unconscious.”
My skin registered the cool touch of flowers as I tried to sift through yesterday’s fog, again. Thad lifted my hair to settle the lei on my shoulders and the sensation pulled me back to the present.
“I hope you’ll stay.” Thad murmured, then he blinked heavily, like he’d said something wrong. “In the City, that is. Not go off hunting gates alone.” His eyes locked on mine.
“A solo island quest sounds like a really bad idea,” I said truthfully. “Lions and tigers and zebras, remember?”And no you.
Thad grinned. “Do you want to make it official? Carve a little graffiti, Nil style?”
I had no idea what he was talking about.
“The Naming Wall. Follow me.” Taking my hand, he led me out of the A-frame.
I loved the feeling of Thad’s hand wrapped around mine. I half expected to wake up, remembering the strangest dream about a hunky island guide, tailor-made just for me. Combing my hair, holding my hand—it was all as unreal as the freaky Friday trip thatlanded me here in the first place. The sweetness of this moment scared me, just a little. Or maybe a lot. I was in too deep to tell.
Thad stopped. Turning to look at me, he said, “I forgot to tell you. You look gorgeous.” His voice caught. “More beautiful than anything else on Nil.”
“How’s your vision?” I asked. I was awful with compliments, especially when they seemed impossible.
He laughed. “Perfect.” Pulling my hand, he said, “C’mon.”
The fire ring simmered on low. No one was around. Torches were lit, and laughter and music drifted from the beach, but up here, it was just me and Thad, wrapped in night air.
When we reached the Wall, Thad let go, leaving my hand extraordinarily empty.
He pulled out his pineapple slicer, and with slow, deliberate strokes, Thad carved the first five letters of my name. Then he paused. “Tell me how to finish…i-eore-y?”
