Epilogue
It’s near the end of summer. It’s been two months since James and I started dating again. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say they’ve been the best two months of my life.
He’s held up his end of the promise. We’ve spent nearly every waking second together and not grown sick of each other. In fact, our proximity has only drawn us closer.
Our love borders on lunacy.
There was a lot of fine print work that James had to do to finalize the sale of Aquarius, but now we’re taking our first vacation since.
We’re back in the Bahamas to make up for my lost treasure hunting experience. James has rented a boat. It’s a lot more modest than a research vessel, but the plus is that it doesn’t need a crew. Or smell like a pickle jar.
We’ve spent the last three days cruising an atoll of flat islands, with green palm tree cores and rings of white sand.
We have breakfast on the boat every morning but lunch and dinner on the beaches. At dusk, James will make giant fires from driftwood, and we’ll drink rum and make love under the stars.
It’s been paradise, an unbelievable few days, and we’ve had these islands all to ourselves. We’re a twelve-hour boat ride from the nearest town. We’ve only seen one or two scuba boats ferrying tourists in the distance, and they haven’t stopped near our islands.
It’s just us. As private as if we were marooned on a deserted island.
The quasi-treasure hunt starts today. Only we’re sticking to the reefs and shoals close to shore where the water is a warm turquoise. And we can see the bottom.
James had me take scuba diving lessons in New York, and now I’m here to put them to the test. This morning is our first dive. Afterwards, we’ll find a beach for lunch.
I stand on the back deck of the boat where the net rigging used to be when this was a fishing boat. James climbs down from the captain’s nest. He’s wearing an unbuttoned linen shirt, sunglasses, and swim trunks. His permanent tan has already bronzed from just a few days in the tropical sun.
I’ve loved sitting next to him while he steers at the helm. Now we’re at our final destination.
The cove we’re in is filled with sharp reefs just below the surface, and before modern mapping, it became a graveyard for lost ships.
James takes off his shirt and starts to put on a weight belt and scuba tank. He fits his feet into black flippers and rests his goggles on his forehead as he helps me into my gear.
“You nervous?” James asks.
“Is it that obvious?”
“I haven’t really gotten you to stop talking excitedly until now.”
“I just know a lot can go wrong.”
“We’re in eighteen feet of water. You’re more than safe.” He kisses my forehead. James checks the anchor one more time, and then we put our goggles on and respirators in.
We both sit on the edge of the boat, preparing to go in backwards.
James holds my hand and gives it a little squeeze. “On three.”
He counts down with his fingers, and we both go over. The world is all white bubbles and blue water until I right myself and start to descend. We both touch down on the soft sand with little dusty explosions.
James gives me the okay sign, asking if I am, and I nod. I see our mark ahead—the ribs of an old shipwreck.
The map we bought said some of the wrecks here were more than three hundred years old. This one, a Spanish schooner that went down in the late 1800s, was more modern than many.
It’s still old enough that the wood is mostly all gone. There are several schools of tiny fish using the old hull for shelter, and they scatter as we approach.
We’re just looking around, but not for anything in particular. We’re testing our scuba skills. Getting used to being in the water. It’s still warm this shallow, and the sea is beautiful from below. Bright corals dance in the sun. Fish pass, some as bright as jungle birds, but most shine like silver knives.
After several minutes, I suddenly pause when I see what looks like the corner of a wooden box sticking up out of the sand.
I’m not expecting to make any groundbreaking finds here, but I can’t help but point excitedly. It’s something that the countless other treasure hunters who have been here before us missed.
James and I surround it and together paw it out of the sand. It’s a small, wooden crate, about the size of a shoe box, and I can see through the slates that there’s something inside. James gestures for us to surface, and I agree. We ascend, climb the swim ladder, and I set down the box. We both rip off our swim goggles.
“Ten minutes, and you’re already a pro,” James says and nudges me playfully in the ribs.
“What is it?” I ask, looking at the box.
“I don’t know.” James crouches down to inspect it. “Lost gold?” he says as a joke. But a part of me really does believe.
I bend down next to him and lift a little piece of rusted metal. One side of the wood box falls open, and wet sand spills out. Something green glistens, half buried. I pull it out and brush it off.
“Oh my God,” I say.
“What?” James perks up, trying to see what I have.
“It’s an artifact.” I show him what I hold. It’s a green glass bottle. The phantom of a Mountain Dew logo from what must have been the seventies can still be seen, just barely.
I grin, and so does James as he reaches for it.
“Wow,” he says, taking it in his hand. “They don’t make these anymore, you know that?”
He reaches back into the box. “There’s more,” he says.
Old Mountain Dew bottles in a crab trap. That was today’s treasure. But I couldn’t care less what we found. We’re laughing together as we strip off our gear.
James rubs my shoulders. “A successful first dive, I’d say.”
“I agree.” I turn over my shoulder and glance up into his green eyes. His hair drips. The drops run all down his golden, muscled skin. “How should we celebrate?”
“Hmm. I only have one idea how to do that.” He starts taking my weight belt off. Then the tank. Soon my gear is in a heap and topped with my swim top and bottom.
I still get the butterflies. The shortness of breath. The wetness running down my legs. James’s touch, body, eyes have not ceased to turn me into a wanting little animal. Nor, at this point, do I think they ever won’t.
I’m naked and already drying from the hot sun. He pushes me gently onto the long padded bench that sticks out from the deck.
He sets his hands under my knees to pin my legs back and starts kissing down my thigh until his lips gently reach my clit. He takes it in his mouth, and I shudder as he sucks.
“You taste… So. Fucking. Good,” he growls before burying his face back between my legs.
I fist his wet hair and moan.
It’s so good. Sunshine. Head. The burning pleasure is blooming, and it’s hot enough to rival the sun on my skin.
I feel the boat rock gently beneath me. It adds to my pleasure. It makes everything a little more unreal. I feel like I’m floating as James forces his tongue and fingers into me.
“Your little cunt is my favorite treat.” He licks its full length, his tongue moving up languorously until he takes my clit between his teeth. I quiver until he lets go.
“You taste like sunshine and sea salt. Like honey made from wildflowers. You taste like everything I’ve ever fucking wanted.”
He eats me out furiously, and it’s his desire as much as the talent of his tongue that drives me towards an orgasm. He can’t get enough of me. He sucks and spits and tugs with his mouth.
I typically like to tell him when I’m going to orgasm, but I’m too shaky this time. My words vibrate in my throat as I try to get them out, and then I forget them entirely as I tremble. It roars through me, prickling my skin with goose bumps.
He lets go of my knees and brings his face to mine. We kiss tenderly. Just once.
James backs up so we can look into each other’s eyes. He smiles, ear to ear, and we’re both thinking the same thing—that life couldn’t be any better.
We have plenty of time for sex. There’s something about the silence on the water and the light wind that seems to cool our lust. I know James wants to fuck me until I see stars, but for now, he climbs up next to me so we’re both on the cushions.
I nestle my head into his neck, and he wraps my naked body in both of his strong arms. We stay like that, without a word needing to be said, for long minutes.
We’ve had plenty of special moments the last few days. Sweating, exhausted, and breathless after having sex in the crimson light of beach fires. Or just staring out at the surf and the stars above. But there’s something about right now… An energy that I wonder if James feels too.
It’s love. It’s finding the Mountain Dew bottles and instead of being upset, we were in hysterics. We have each other. That’s what we’re out here for.
“What if we got married?” I ask playfully.
James doesn’t respond, and I wonder if I went too far too soon. On a high from my orgasm, I’d messed up. But when I turn to face him, he’s grinning like an idiot.
“What?” I ask. “What’s so funny?”
James rolls off me smoothly and plants one knee on the deck. I think he’s kidding until I see his hand go to his swim trunks pocket. He unzips it and pulls out a diamond ring.
I hiccup in disbelief.
“You’re mine , Sophia. But yes…” He smiles. “I would like to let the rest of the world know that fact.”
“James…” I put my hand on my chest, speechless.
“Sophia, will you marry me?”
“I, uh… I just… I…” I’m mumbling. Slurring my words like a drunk. I can’t form a sentence. I force myself to take a deep breath. James didn’t need to ravish me to make me see stars. They float around his head. Dance brilliantly in the blue sky. It’s only been a few months, but I’ve never been surer about anything in my life. My grandparents got engaged after two weeks of knowing each other. As far as I’m concerned, I’m being a prude waiting any longer with James.
“Yes,” I manage to hiss.
He slips the ring on, and I stare at the stone sparkling in the sun.
“I think a part of me knew,” James says. He looks at the ring. Not me.
“What?”
“From the very first time I saw you, when you found me upstairs at the auction house…” He shakes his head like he can’t quite believe it. “I think a part of me knew I was always going to marry you.”
Oh, James. My heart swells. I put my hand on his knee so he looks into my eyes and not at the ring. “Well… it took you long enough,” I tease.
He smiles, and then I shriek as he lifts me by the waist and tosses me over his shoulder. “James!” I giggle and slap his back as he carries me into the cabin.
I finally feel as weightless as I do in this dream of a life. He tosses me onto the bed, and I grin stupidly at the ceiling.
Today the beach is going to have to wait.