Chapter Twenty-Eight
Now
Wyatt’s lips tickled the back of her neck, waking her as dawn broke golden and violet across the horizon. He dropped a line
of lazy kisses from behind her ear to the top of her spine, branding her skin with a trail of fire. Neither of them had bothered
to put clothes back on after last night, and her body instantly awakened at his touch. His hand flattened against her stomach,
then drifted south, moving as slow as his kisses. She turned around to face him, sighing with pleasure at the delicious feel
of his bare skin against hers, at his hard warmth against her softness.
Wyatt’s arms locked around her, drawing her close. “I love waking up to you like this.”
Piper responded by crushing herself to him, melting into his languid morning kisses. “Me, too. I could stay here with you
all day.”
“One perk of this forced vacation is nothing’s stopping us.” He ran a hand down her back to cup her bottom, coaxing her closer.
Piper smiled against his lips. “You got any more protection in that magic pillow of yours?”
Wyatt grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He pulled back to rummage in his clothes pillow.
At first, Piper thought the sound was her heart beating lustily in her ears. But Wyatt froze in place as a faint thrumming filled the beach, growing louder by the second until it became the distinct and steady drone of a plane engine.
Wyatt gripped her arm. “You hear it too, right?”
Piper nodded, not wanting her voice to drown out the hopeful sound.
They stared at each other for a beat before springing into action. This was the moment Rosie had warned them to be ready for.
Piper tugged on a nearby T-shirt and wiggled into a pair of shorts, all cobwebs of sleep and lust wiped from her mind. Wyatt
hopped on one foot, then the other, putting on his swim trunks and tennis shoes. Grabbing the flare kit, he raced toward the
beach. Piper scooped up the radio and a red beach wrap and rushed after him, tripping over her feet in haste.
By the water, they shielded their eyes against the sun, searching desperately for the plane that would signal their rescue.
Wyatt zeroed in on the sky, flare gun loaded, ready to pull the trigger. The engine’s whir grew louder, flooding Piper with
giddy excitement. After nearly a week on this island, rescue was literally on the horizon. She couldn’t see the plane yet,
but she waved her red wrap in the air, hoping the color would stand out against the white sand and green trees.
“I’ve got to get up higher and flag them down.” Wyatt nodded at the cliffside to their left. “Our SOS washed away during high
tide last night, and the cliffside and trees are hiding us.”
Panic rose in her like nausea. “But you’re still hurt. Maybe I should go.”
But they both knew that wasn’t the right call.
Wyatt shook his head impatiently. “I’m fine. Wait here and try to get someone on the radio.” Before Piper could protest, he
took off sprinting toward the cliffside that jutted out less than two hundred yards away.
Piper fumbled with the radio knob, her hands slippery with sweat, twisting the knob millimeter by millimeter, listening for the sound of a channel clicking into place. The adrenaline and drinking from last night, not to mention the mind-blowing sex, had left her limbs as useless as wet noodles. No voices emanated from the device in her hand.
She could still hear the whirring of the plane as Wyatt inched his way up the rock side. A few seconds later, the loud crack
of the flare gun rang out, an orange shimmer whistling across the sky. Was it bright enough? Would they see the trail of smoke?
She’d been thrilled about an overcast morning, but now she cursed the gray clouds dotting the sky.
Piper’s breath came in shallow pants, her focus darting between the sky and the cliffside until Wyatt jumped the final few
feet back to the ground. A few minutes later, he arrived at their beach camp sweaty and out of breath, with a pronounced limp.
A starburst of red seeped through the torn bandage on his leg, blood running from a fresh gash on his shin.
She rushed to meet him with a water bottle. “You should sit.” She gestured to a spot in the sand.
Wyatt accepted the water bottle but shrugged off her suggestion, pacing by the shoreline instead, seeming unaware of his injury.
He scraped a hand over his jaw, his face set in a scowl.
“Did you see the plane?” Piper bit her lip, unsure if she should give him a hug or space.
Wyatt’s expression pinched like he’d tasted something with too much vinegar. “I saw it, but I don’t know if it saw me. I thought
they’d come back and make a few loops around the perimeter of the island, but they kept going. Did you reach anyone on the
radio?”
Piper gnawed on her lower lip and shook her head. “I’ll keep trying, though.”
“We only have two more flares, which is not ideal.” He pulled the flare gun out of his back pocket and showed it to Piper.
“Do you know how to use this?”
“I’m assuming you point and shoot?”
His brows knit together, frustration obvious on his face. “Make sure the wind is at your back, hold it at a sixty-degree angle,
and look away when you shoot to protect your eyes.”
Piper wanted Wyatt to put his arm around her and tell her everything would be okay, not give her another survival lesson.
“Wind, sixty degrees, look away. Got it.” She couldn’t help the flippant tone in her voice, something to counterbalance Wyatt’s
sudden militant edge.
His lips tightened into a thin white line. “If we get separated, or I’m incapacitated, and you hear a plane or see a boat,
don’t hesitate to fire.” His words were an unpleasant reminder of their increasingly dire reality. “Do you understand?” Wyatt
asked again. Frenetic dark energy radiated off him, a stark contrast to the flirtation of last night.
“Yes! What’s with the lecture?” A lump formed in her throat, made worse by the other question whispering in the back of her
head... What if no one had seen them? What if they were stuck here for good?
His face relaxed a fraction. “I want to make sure you know what to do if anything happens to me.”
Piper swallowed hard at the thought of Wyatt not being around for any reason. “As long as you aren’t planning any more daring
adventures, nothing will.” She worked to keep her voice light and airy. “I think you should let me look at your leg. We should
rebandage it.”
He looked down as if noticing his injury for the first time. “Oh, yeah. I slipped on a loose rock on my way down.” He waded
into the water to wash the blood off, hissing as the saltwater hit the open wound. When he reemerged on the dry sand, she
saw the fresh cut, ragged and deep, ran lengthwise down the side of his shin—and was still bleeding.
“Sit,” she said more forcefully this time.
Wyatt eased himself onto the ground beside her, masking his pain with a blunted groan. He cried out when she pressed her red wrap down firmly on his wound, breathing through her nose to keep from passing out at the sight of blood. Now was not the time to let her nerves get the best of her.
It took longer than she would have liked for the bleeding to stop. When it did, she wrapped the fabric around his leg, tying
it tight. Wyatt remained stone-faced, staring out at the horizon the entire time.
She hovered a hand over his knee, wanting to comfort him but acutely aware of the “don’t mess with me” vibe emanating from
his entire body. She wasn’t ready to face rejection if he pulled away from her touch. Instead, she sat back and clasped her
hands together stiffly, hugging her legs under her chin.
Silence filled the beach like a palpable phantom. Instead of turning to her for solace, Wyatt was collapsing in on himself,
falling further and further away from her with every second. The juxtaposition of postcoital bliss and plane-rescue miss made
Piper feel jittery and anxious like a tightrope walker without a net.
After an unbearably long time, Piper jumped to her feet. “You know what might make us both feel better? Some food. I’m going
to get us some food.” She could hear the manic edge of her voice, which matched the nervous energy leapfrogging through her.
By her calculations, there should still be at least one more papaya, some soda, and a full block of cheese left in the cooler.
She wasn’t sure how to put a smile back on Wyatt’s face, but she had yet to meet a problem that cheese couldn’t solve.
Piper looked in all directions, trying to spot the Yeti. After taking a lap around their campsite and the firepit, she walked
back to Wyatt, confused. It’s not like there were many places a large, bright blue cooler could hide on this patch of sand.
“Hey, do you know where the Yeti is?”
Wyatt continued staring slack-jawed out at the white-capped ocean. “I don’t know. Where did you leave it?”
Piper sucked in a breath. “I’m not sure where we left it—that’s why I’m asking. Weren’t you storing the fish in it last night? Is that the last time you saw it?”
“Yes, I used it over there.” He pointed vaguely toward a spot now underwater. “But you said you would pull it back to the
shelter last night.”
Piper didn’t like the accusatory tone in his voice. “Yes, but you said you’d handle the fish, so I thought you meant the cooler,
too.”
That got Wyatt’s attention. He snapped his head toward her. “So, you left the cooler by the water?” A dark cloud settled over
his face. “It’s gone, isn’t it? The cheese, drinks, everything swept out to sea with the tide.” He heaved a shell into the
water.
Piper’s heartbeat picked up speed, thudding mercilessly in her chest. This was all wrong. She and Wyatt should be holding
hands on a plane bound for home or making love in their cozy beach nest, not fighting over a fishy cooler.
She shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t believe this. First, rescue misses us, and now we’re down to what, a piece of fruit?” His eyes had gone dark, his
face devoid of emotion.
Piper couldn’t find the Wyatt she loved behind the mask. His cold behavior reminded her of his nonchalant attitude when he
broke up with her all those years ago. And thinking about that filled her with cold dread.
“The plane could still come back. And we can catch more fish,” Piper countered. She understood his bad mood over the plane,
and losing their food was less than ideal, but why was he projecting so much hostility at her?
He shook his head, his brow furrowing. “You don’t understand. The fishing net was in the cooler. And if that pilot reports this area as having no signs of life, then another plane won’t head this way anytime soon. We could be stuck here indefinitely.” Wyatt picked up another shell and hurled it into the water. “Damn it! This is all my fault. I should’ve been paying more attention. Instead of—” His gaze cut to her face, and he trailed off.
A tear slipped down Piper’s face, fear twisting her stomach in a cruel knot. She’d broken her walls down for Wyatt but now
was reminded of why she’d needed them so high in the first place. Their love bubble had burst so abruptly it left her reeling,
her deepest fear playing out right before her eyes, but she’d be damned if he hurt her first this time.
“Instead of what? Kissing me? Sleeping with me?” Her nostrils flared, and she crossed her arms tight against her chest. “You’re
right. That was a big mistake.”
Wyatt frowned. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I meant I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted from getting us home.”
“But it’s what you’re thinking. Admit it. We were drinking and got carried away in the moment. That’s all it was.” Angrily,
Piper wiped another tear off her face, sucking in a deep breath to quell any more. This pain reminded her of how quickly their
high school love had soured—like milk left out too long. “And I agree, we need to focus on surviving and getting off this
island. That’s our priority.” She had to squeeze her hands together to keep them from shaking—a side effect of breaking her
own heart. “We should forget about last night.”
She waited for Wyatt to argue. To tell her not to be silly, that they were both hungry and tired and maybe a little hungover,
but nothing would stop him from kissing her again, from loving her. That, of course, it hadn’t just been the wine or the moonlight—it
had been everything he’d wanted for years, and he could never forget it had happened. That last night was amazing, even if
they were still stuck on this stupid beach.
But Wyatt’s eyes widened like she’d punched him before his face tightened as hard as stone. “Okay. If that’s what you want.” He gave her a curt nod. “We can forget it ever happened.”
He turned back to the ocean and away from Piper.
Piper stalked off to their shelter. Another tear leaked down her face, betraying her tough exterior. No way was she sitting
on this beach with Wyatt waiting for a plane to save them when he couldn’t even stand to look at her. Had last night really
been so forgettable to him?
She knew what they had was special. Last night had healed so many pieces of her once-shattered heart, and Wyatt had felt it,
too. He had to have, but the dismissive look in his eyes now burned her insides like someone had poured gasoline down her
throat and lit a match. The burning was oddly comforting and easier to tolerate than the recent feelings of love and butterflies,
so Piper welcomed the charred chaos.
Back at their shelter, she changed into a clean bathing suit and cover-up, hoping it would make her feel better.
It didn’t.
Her body ached from physical and emotional exhaustion. Hunger gnawed at her alongside a growing cacophony of fear swirling
in her gut like a Tasmanian devil. They could survive for some time without food, Wyatt had drilled the rule of threes into
her head by now, but it wasn’t a pleasant thought.
She wouldn’t accept all the blame for the Yeti fiasco, but she could find more food. Taking a trip out to the clearing would
keep her from having a complete panic attack and provide a necessary break from Wyatt. Acting decisively, she packed the backpack
with her half-filled water bottle, the Swiss army knife, and a change of socks, leaving room for anything useful or edible
she found along the way.
“I’m going for food. Back in two hours,” she called to Wyatt, talking around the lump still lodged in her throat. She half expected him to insist on coming with her, but he barely glanced in her direction.
Threading her way through spindly curving trees, she let the calls of tropical birds and cool shade soothe her. The iguanas
perched on branches, statue-like except for their eyes, which tracked her every movement. Was it the light, or were they looking
at her with pity?
Close to the clearing, she found the spot where they’d located their luggage and followed roots and branches to a clump of
papaya trees. As if the universe knew she needed a break, several ripe papayas were within reach. Well, within reach if she
jumped and knocked them down one by one. She filled her bag with as many as would fit and continued trekking until she glimpsed
the familiar patch of light illuminating trees that marked the clearing.
After she’d collected a few fresh berries and stored them in the backpack’s front pouch, she took a break on a flat rock by
the small pond, catching her breath. Using the knife, she cut open a papaya and devoured it. Alongside the practical fear
of staying alive that rattled inside her like a rogue grenade, anxiety over letting Wyatt back into her heart mounted—seeds
of doubt and distrust clouding her mind.
Only after she stopped moving did the enormity of their situation overwhelm her like a swarm of mad bees. All the fear and
anger and grief she’d experienced over the past week flooded to the surface, threatening to choke her. One tear deluged into
a flood, and she sobbed freely, allowing herself this small breakdown out of Wyatt’s sight. She wept in frustration at being
so close to happiness and rescue, only to have them cruelly ripped away. Cried over the added pain of rejection that made her want to tear her heart out of her chest and drown it in the ocean, and
from the actual fear of not making it home.
What if they really were stranded here for days or weeks lon ger? Or worse, never made it home? What if she was forever stuck with a man who had her whole heart but didn’t want it? The thought filled her with such despair she let loose an animalistic scream that reverberated off the branches of trees and scared a flock of birds into flight. She didn’t care if Wyatt heard her, but this deep in the wilderness, she doubted he would.
She was all alone.