Chapter Ten
Now
“I ’ m going to work on a shelter,” Wyatt announced when they reached their crash site.
Piper shook her head. Did he ever sit still? “I’m planning on sleeping at our five-star resort after we get rescued, but by
all means, knock yourself out.” Anything to keep Wyatt busy and away from her.
He dragged their luggage over to the pile of their rescued belongings. Piper followed at a distance. Cutting open a papaya,
he took a big bite of the bright orange fruit, then swiped a hand over his mouth, wiping away the juice dripping down his
chin. He handed her the other sticky half before trotting off toward the woods to do who knows what.
With Wyatt out of sight, Piper forced the zipper to her suitcase open and nearly cried in relief at the assortment of clean garments inside. From this angle,
overpacking looked more like a skill than a bad habit. She shimmied into clean underwear and a matching bra, layering white
terry-cloth shorts and a navy tank top over them. Grabbing her airport-purchased paperback romance, she found a shady patch
of sand overlooking the water.
With a clear view of the expansive sky and the ocean rolled out in front of her, Piper readied herself to jump at the first sign of a boat or plane. She could almost imagine being here on purpose, enjoying a break from the world. Almost. The dull ache in her head and lingering hunger made it hard to ignore the truth—she’d crashed on a remote island with the last person she thought she’d ever see again. The man who’d made her believe in love, then stomped on her heart, the pain shimmering below the surface even after all this time.
Raising the papaya to her lips, Piper took an eager bite. The juice from the sweet fruit soothed her parched throat, giving
her a respite from the thirst that had been clawing at her all morning. It tasted like a tropical vacation. A real one, not
a plane-crash-imposed one. The beach breeze dampened the sun’s heat to a warm kiss. Tilting her face up toward the sun, Piper
breathed in the salty air and soaked in this small moment of peace, her jaw slowly unclenching.
She could vividly picture the cheers from her friends and family when she arrived at the resort venue, rescued from their
unintended layover and ready for the wedding. Her father would insist on a full medical exam before allowing her to have any
fun, and her mother would fuss over her, then send her straight to the spa. Allie wouldn’t care that her maid of honor had
a sunburned nose and puckered forehead gash. Knowing Allie, she would paint a fake cut with lipstick on her own forehead to
match and take the attention off Piper, who loathed everyone looking at her—something her best friend adored. Believing in
the possibility of still attending the wedding helped quell the panic threatening to overtake her again, so Piper closed her
eyes and let herself slip into the tantalizing fantasy.
“Is this any good?” Wyatt asked, yanking her from her daydream.
“Huh?” Piper jerked her head up.
“Your book. The Wrong Duke, ” he read the title of the paperback in his hands.
“It’s great, actually. A Regency take on You’ve Got Mail .”
Wyatt smirked. “Not really my thing, but I’ll take your word for it.”
Piper snatched the book back from him and wiped sand off the cover. No longer high in the sky, the sun was sinking rapidly behind the tree line. She’d slept away most of the afternoon—and they were still stranded on this awful beach.
Hot tears stabbed the backs of her eyes. Her visions of rescue had all been a cruel dream. Instead, she remained trapped in
this waking nightmare. The realization hit her like an icy gale, the emotional blow harder to recover from than the physical
one she’d already sustained. She turned her head so Wyatt couldn’t see the devastation on her face. He noticed it anyway.
He knelt beside her. “Hey, everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“You don’t know that.” Her voice came out small and pitiful.
“You’re right, but I can promise we’re going to be okay tonight. How about that?” Wyatt offered her a hand. “Come on. I built
a fire. We can split a granola bar and some more berries.”
She didn’t want to be on the beach in the dark by herself with her even darker thoughts, so Piper wiped the tears from her
face, reluctantly took his hand, and let him pull her up.
Sure enough, a few yards behind her spot on the sand, Wyatt had built a small but impressive fire. It helped that the logs
and kindling he’d gathered had baked in the sun all day. It also helped that the army knife he’d rescued produced fiery sparks,
which he demonstrated for her excitedly. They had nothing to cook and didn’t need the fire for warmth, but the bouncing light
and crackle of firewood comforted her. Especially as the sky darkened and their food rations for the day disappeared.
The night came alive with the chirping of insects and birds engaged in fierce debate. Their electric discord put Piper on edge. Sitting by the glowing fire as the sun dipped below the treetops reminded her of camping with Allie and their Girl Scout troop in elementary school. Making s’mores, singing songs, and waking Allie up in the middle of the night after a bad dream. Then moving their sleeping bags next to each other to ward off the boogeyman.
Grief and longing hit her with ferocity as intense as the fire.
She missed Allie. Her heart hurt over missing the wedding, which would have happened hours ago. She missed her parents, Ethan,
and her bed. She wanted to go home. Fresh tears leaked down her cheeks, and she didn’t bother swiping them away.
“I can’t believe we missed the wedding.” Piper sniffled. “Allie’s like a sister to me, and we’ve dreamed of this since we
were little. We probably ruined their big day.”
“I can assure you, their day was not as ruined as ours.”
Piper glared at him through the tears now flowing down her face. His attempt at humor only upset her further.
Likely alarmed by her tidal wave of teardrops, Wyatt squeezed her arm, then pulled away as if remembering his place. “Hey,
I’m upset about missing the wedding, too.” He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “Allie’s my family also. I hate we aren’t
there celebrating with them. And I hate that we’re stranded here another night.”
Piper wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“But I don’t hate that I’m here with you.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “To tell you the truth, I was going to the wedding
to see you. To talk to you and apologize to you face-to-face. I’ve missed you, and I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner.” He
caught her gaze, the fire dancing in his eyes. “I’m sorry for all of it.”
Piper squinted, studying him. Her breath caught in her throat. Did he mean that? She’d always assumed he’d left her behind
without a second thought. She hadn’t prepared for the possibility that he might regret his actions. That he might miss her
as much as she’d missed him. She didn’t know how to respond, which was just as well because the tears still trickling down
her cheeks gave away more than she wanted.
The ocean darkened, matching the sky, and the flames dwindled. Piper’s shock and grief diminished with them. Eventually, she found her voice. “I still don’t understand why you disappeared from my life, from everyone’s life, like you did.”
Wyatt poked the fire with a stick, staring intensely into the flames. “I wish I could explain it. At the time, I thought I
was doing the right thing.” Sparks flew up into the night with every prod. “I was an angry kid with no one in my corner. Sure,
I’d escape to Cedar Falls when I could, but it wasn’t my reality. Being on my own was all I knew, so I thought it was better
that way. That everyone would be better off without me.” Wyatt swallowed, his voice thick. “But messing up what we had and
losing you was the stupidest thing I ever did. If it takes a plane crash to see you, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
Piper sucked in a deep, noisy breath, stemming her tears. Her heart rate doubled. She didn’t fully trust Wyatt with her heart
yet, but she believed him. Or at least believed that he meant what he said, which was a start.
“For the record, I would have preferred a phone call to this.” She fanned an arm out at the endless expanse of ocean. “But
thank you for saying that.”
“I’ll make a note for next time.” His dimpled smile winked like a new beginning.
While they’d talked, a three-quarter moon had replaced the sun in the star-speckled sky, beaming without its brighter celestial
counterpart.
Piper stood, the fire casting shadows all around her. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you show me this shelter you’ve been working
on?”
Wyatt led her across the moon-shadowed beach toward the forest behind them, where the trees thickened and the sand gave way to reedy grass and patches of moss. He’d found a small clearing just wide enough to stand with arms outstretched and not touch anything, as if the trees had all parted to make room for a queen’s entrance. It wasn’t spacious, but Wyatt had arranged what looked like two cots cobbled together from miscellaneous clothes from their rescued luggage. About four feet above the ground, he’d covered the space with big palm leaves lashed together with vines and reeds, propped up by thin limbs that feathered out from the craggy trees. It was a far cry from the luxury resort but had a certain cozy appeal.
Almost too cozy—like they were having a slumber party—though, to his credit, Wyatt had made the two sleeping spaces distinctly
separate.
Piper looked over at him, impressed. “You did all this?”
“Yup, I broke a sweat while you were having a spa day.”
Piper smacked him on the arm.
“Kidding! Want to test it out? That one’s yours.” Wyatt pointed at the makeshift bed on the left, the one fully covered by
the palm awning and more padded than his sleeping area.
Inside it was roomier than she’d expected, with enough space to sit up comfortably. She lay down and tested out her mattress.
Though the cushioned bedding was light-years away from her memory foam mattress at home, she’d slept on worse.
Wyatt crawled into the shelter next to her and sprawled out on his own cot with his hands laced behind his head. “Not too
shabby, huh? It’s not an all-inclusive resort, but the rate is very affordable.”
She smiled at his joke. “What am I lying on?”
“A selection of the three weeks’ worth of clothes you packed for this trip. Including the largest dress I’ve ever seen.”
Piper rolled over. Sure enough, the soft purple bridesmaid dress doubled as the top layer of her “bed.” She guessed she wouldn’t
be needing it now. At least the layers of tulle were doing an excellent job of providing comfort. Wyatt had also crafted a
pillow for her by stuffing a T-shirt with clothes. Her black silk slip dress still with tags poked out from one armhole.
The injustice of the beautiful dress she’d bought last week for Allie’s bachelorette demoted to a pillow struck her as the funniest thing she’d ever seen. Everything about this moment slipped sideways, leaving her topsy-turvy in an alternate dimension. The beach view looked the same, but instead of dancing in Allie’s bridesmaid dress, she was lying on it. Instead of drinking a prickly pear margarita served in a decorative coconut shell, she’d dodged cactus needles to eat its berries.
And instead of avoiding Wyatt, she was literally sleeping next to him.
Laughter bubbled up from deep within her, and she gave in, hysterics shaking her whole body.
Wyatt arched one eyebrow, an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“This dress. Allie would kill me if she knew I was using it as a mattress.” She collapsed into a fresh fit of giggles.
Wyatt threw his head back and joined her with a deep chuckle. “Only the best for visitors on Hell Island. Hey, maybe we’ll
start a new trend—wedding attire that doubles as mattresses.”
Piper giggled even more profusely, egged on by Wyatt’s joy, until they both clutched their stomachs, aching from the belly
laughs.
Laughing with Wyatt transported her back to high school and how easily it had always come between them, layering joke on top
of inside joke until they were the only ones who understood what was so funny in the first place. Slipping back into their
old patterns would be effortless—until he broke her heart again.
“We should get some rest,” Piper said when she’d sobered up.
Wyatt propped himself up on his elbow, resting his head on his fist. “You’re right, Captain Conservation.”
Piper pulled a sock out of her pillow and lobbed it at his face.
He ducked gracefully, still grinning. “Thanks for the laughs. I needed that.”
“Me too.” She returned his smile and fluffed up her pillow to get comfortable.
Shadow covered Wyatt’s face. Nestled into their new base camp, Piper felt his presence more than she could see him. Did sleeping
on the ground remind him of serving in the army? Or of their Lonely Only slumber parties in the clubhouse as kids, nestled
in sleeping bags on the wooden floor like a puddle of puppies?
“You know, it’s not true,” Piper said after a few minutes of silence. “What you said earlier about not having anyone in your
corner. I hope you know you always had Aunt Molly and the Lonely Onlys. And me.” Especially me.
Wyatt swallowed. “I know. I have a bad habit of pushing away the people I love most, but I’m working on it.”
She would need some time to unpack that statement, but he wasn’t trying to start a conversation.
“Night, Piper. Wake me up if you need anything.”
“Night,” she whispered, watching the inky fingers of night drag darkness across the sky.