Chapter 3 #2
A compliment! Maybe she was wiggling her way into his good graces, after all. "Thanks," she said, trying to hide the strain. "But this is nothing like my gym back home."
"Where is home?"
"California," she answered with a subtle wheeze. "Santa Monica."
"Figures."
Ouch. The corners of Lily's mouth twitched upwards despite the frustration nipping at her heels. "What gave it away? My sunny disposition? My California-girl beachy tan?"
"Your complete disregard for anything that matters," he quipped.
"What makes you think I don't care about important things?" she asked, stung.
"Your job, for one. What's the sole purpose of your WanderLily channel?"
Should she be flattered that he remembered the name of her channel?
Too soon to tell. "Well, I help people find experiences that might change their life for the better by showing them what's out there if they're willing to take a chance on the unknown.
Just because I'm not a STEM girlie, doesn't mean what I do doesn't have value.
Quality of life, Alex... it matters. Haven't you heard the saying, 'All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy? '"
He did a double-take. "Did you just quote The Shining?"
She grinned. "I did. I'm a classic horror fan. How about you?"
"Um, yeah, I like a few," he admitted.
"A few?" Lily seized the opening like a lifeline. "Come on, that's not an answer. Give me your top three. And don't say Jaws just because it's got water in it."
Alex shot her a look that was almost amused. "I wasn't going to say Jaws."
"Then spill. I'm dying to know what scares the unflappable Dr. Carmichael."
He was quiet for a moment, machete pausing mid-swing. When he answered, his voice had lost some of its edge. "The Thing. An American Werewolf in London. And Alien."
Lily's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, I'm impressed. That's a solid practical effects lineup. No CGI garbage."
"You sound surprised."
"I am surprised. I had you pegged as a documentary-only kind of guy. Maybe a nature series narrated by someone with a soothing British accent."
"I contain multitudes." The words were dry, but there was a flicker of something underneath—pleasure, maybe, at being seen as more than one-dimensional.
"Clearly." Lily adjusted her fruit bag, genuinely curious now. "So how does a marine biologist develop a taste for body horror? Doesn't seem like obvious career synergy."
Alex hacked through another vine before answering.
"My sister. She's three years older and went through a phase where she thought it was hilarious to traumatize me with horror movie marathons every Halloween.
" A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "I hated it at first. Then I started looking forward to it. "
"You have a sister?"
"Megan. She's an ER nurse in Boston. Probably the only person on the planet who's not afraid of me."
Lily filed this information away like treasure. Dr. Crankypants had a sister who dragged him to horror movies and apparently kept him humble. Layers, she thought. Maybe there are actual layers here.
"Well, tell Megan she has excellent taste," Lily said. "And that I'd happily join your Halloween marathon if you ever need a third."
Alex glanced back at her, something unreadable in his expression. "I'll let her know." He turned back to the path, hacking at the next vine with more force than necessary.
Lily dodged the buzz of an ambitious mosquito as she trudged through the muddled terrain, nearly dropping her load of bananas.
Then her foot found a root slick with morning moisture, and suddenly the world tilted sideways.
"Whoa—!"
Her arms pinwheeled, bananas flying, and she braced for impact with the jungle floor—
But impact never came.
Instead, strong hands caught her around the waist, yanking her upright and flush against a very solid chest. Her palms landed flat against Alex's shoulders, fingers instinctively gripping the worn fabric of his shirt.
His arms locked around her like a safety harness, holding her steady while her heart hammered against her ribs.
For a suspended moment, neither of them moved.
Lily was suddenly, acutely aware of everything: the heat radiating off his body, the way his chest rose and fell against hers, the faint scent of sunscreen and something woodsy that was purely him. His blue eyes were very close, very intense, and very much not looking away.
"You okay?" His voice came out rougher than usual.
"Yeah." The word was barely a whisper. "Good reflexes."
"Field work." But he didn't let go.
His hands were still splayed across her lower back, warm through the thin fabric of her top. Her fingers were still curled into his shoulders. The jungle hummed around them, indifferent to the fact that Lily's brain had apparently short-circuited.
Say something, she commanded herself. Make a joke. Deflect. Do anything besides stand here melting into him like butter on a hot pan.
"Smooth moves, California," Alex said finally, his voice finding its familiar sardonic edge—but it sounded forced, like he was reminding himself of the script.
The spell broke.
He released her, stepping back like she was a flu virus. Lily immediately missed the warmth, which was annoying and inconvenient and something she refused to examine.
"In my defense," she said, bending to retrieve the scattered bananas, "these shoes are approximately four sizes too big."
"In my defense, I offered you better footwear options."
"You offered me hiking boots that looked like they'd survived both World Wars. There are limits to what I'll sacrifice for safety."
"Vanity over practicality. Shocking."
But when she glanced up, he was almost smiling again. And his ears had gone slightly pink.
Interesting, she thought for the second time that morning. Very interesting.
"Okay, your turn," she said as they resumed walking, desperate to fill the charged silence. "What's the craziest thing you've done as a marine biologist?"
"Tracking the nesting patterns of the red-billed tropicbird," he answered without missing a beat. "Not exactly in my wheelhouse, but when you're stuck on an island for weeks, you start noticing things. Kept a log just for fun."
"Sounds... thrilling," Lily said, though a part of her genuinely wanted to understand the allure. She watched him navigate a dense patch of brush, his movements sure and practiced.
"Thrill is relative," he said, pausing to hold back a thorny branch for her to pass. "Here, it's about discovery, understanding, preservation. Not quite the adrenaline kick of hanging from a zip line, but it has its moments."
"Preservation," she echoed, feeling the weight of the word—and the coconuts—in her arms.
She glanced at his profile, noticing how his eyes scanned their surroundings, always alert and searching. There was a tenderness there, she realized, a reverence for this secluded slice of paradise that transcended annoyance or irritation.
"So, tell me about your research," she asked, genuine curiosity threading through her words. "I mean, I get that it's important, but why this island?"
Alex paused, giving her a sidelong glance that felt like a door creaking open, resting the machete lightly on his shoulder.
"Ilot Serenite is unique," he began, and Lily noted the immediate shift in his tone—the passion that seemed to ignite like a flare.
"The ecosystem here... it's delicately balanced.
A single non-native species introduced, and it could all fall apart. "
"Like dominoes?" Lily ventured, intrigued by both the topic and the sudden softness in his eyes.
"Exactly." He faced her, passion in his expression.
"Everything here is interconnected. The flora provides for the fauna, and vice versa.
It's an intricate dance of life, unspoiled by human interference.
That, in itself, is rare. Humans are like cockroaches, they invade and obliterate wherever they go.
Ilot Serenite gives us the unique opportunity to see how the ecosystem operated before humans came and contaminated everything. "
Lily shifted beneath the weight of the fruit. She didn't like being compared to a cockroach, but she supposed his statement had a certain logic.
He gestured to the canopy overhead. "Did you know that the way light diffuses here actually affects the growth patterns of the jungle floor plants?"
"Really?" Lily raised an eyebrow, feigning interest while internally calculating.
His knowledge was valuable and rare, like a hidden stream in a dry desert.
Would her viewers dig this kind of content shared by a hottie professor-type?
It had potential. "You're full of surprises, Dr. Carmichael," she said.
"Considering our circumstances, you can call me Alex," he said with a hint of a smile.
"Right, Alex." She tested the name, liking how it rolled off her tongue. "Tell me more about these plants. My audience would eat this stuff up."
"Your audience?" He paused, his machete dangling loosely in one hand.
"Oops," she murmured, biting her lip. Too soon. She needed to tread carefully and play the long game. She flashed him an apologetic grin. "Sorry, force of habit. What I meant was, I'd eat this stuff up. Purely for personal enrichment, of course."
"Of course," he echoed, the skepticism clear in his tone, but the edge had softened.
"Anyway," Lily continued quickly, "it's fascinating. It makes me see this place in a whole new light." She let the words hang between them, hoping they conveyed enough sincerity to soothe their previous friction.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the cabin.
Lily's arms ached, each muscle screaming in protest as she dumped the last of the papayas into the wooden crate beside the cabin.
"Oh, thank God," she groaned, stretching against the pinch in her back. After this grueling workout, she'd never complain about her Pilates class again.
"Welcome to fieldwork," Alex grunted as he dragged their haul into the cabin. "It's not all about sunsets and sand between your toes."
"Speaking of which," Lily said, suddenly aware of the grains of sand sticking to her sweat-dampened skin. She quickly disappeared into the bathroom to change into her bikini bottoms. "I'm taking my sore muscles for a swim. Care to join me?"
"Uh, thanks, but I'll pass," he declined, but his eyes betrayed him, lingering a moment too long on the curve of her hips.
"Suit yourself," Lily replied, unable to suppress a victorious smirk. She sauntered past him, ensuring her deliberate sway was within his sight. Operation: Dr. Crankypants Conversion was in full swing.
She left Alex by the cabin, knowing his gaze remained tethered to her retreating figure, and trotted down the sandy path toward the beach.
The island air hummed with life, and the turquoise water beckoned. As she reached the lapping waves, she glanced back at the cabin.
Alex was nowhere in sight, but she felt his presence, like a silent shadow cast by the setting sun.
"By the time I'm done with you, Alex," she mused, her toes teasing the foam of the incoming tide, "you'll be asking to be my cameraman."
With a burst of laughter that bounced off the water and into the early evening air, Lily dove headfirst into the cooling embrace of the ocean.
The saltwater washed away the grime and the fatigue. As she emerged, grinning and shaking the droplets from her hair, she felt reborn—confident, playful, and ready to turn this unexpected detour into her latest victory.
"Watch out, Dr. Crankypants," she whispered to the waves, her voice brimming with mischievous promise. "I can turn any lemon into lemonade. Just wait until you see what I squeeze out of you."