Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Alex had a problem.
The problem was five-foot-six with wild brown curls, an inexhaustible supply of pink bikinis, and an alarming tendency to make him smile when he wasn't paying attention.
He stood in the cabin's small kitchen at dawn, watching the coffee drip with the intensity of a man hoping caffeine might restore his sanity.
Outside, the first blush of sunrise painted the sky in shades of peach and gold.
Inside, Lily was still asleep on the couch, one arm flung over her head, her breathing soft and even.
He should not be noticing her breathing.
He should not be noticing the way the early light caught the freckles scattered across her nose, or how her lips parted slightly in sleep, or the fact that her tank top had ridden up to reveal a strip of tanned stomach that made his mouth go dry.
Get it together, Carmichael.
Today's plan was simple: check on the sea turtle nesting site on the eastern shore. He'd been monitoring it since his arrival, tracking the eggs he'd discovered during his first week. If his calculations were correct, they were approaching the window for hatching.
It was important work. Vital, even. The kind of work that required focus and solitude and absolutely zero distractions in the form of chatty influencers with infectious laughs.
He should go alone.
That was the logical choice. The smart choice.
And yet.
The past few days had been... different.
Yesterday at the tide pools, Lily had proven herself surprisingly capable.
She'd followed instructions, asked intelligent questions, and shown genuine interest in his research beyond just filming opportunities.
She'd even made him laugh—actually laugh—with her observation about hermit crabs having commitment issues.
She's not completely insufferable, he admitted to himself. In small doses.
The coffee maker gurgled its completion, and Alex poured two cups before he could talk himself out of it. He added extra sugar to one—she liked it sweet, he'd noticed—and carried both toward the couch.
"Hey." He nudged her shoulder with the back of his hand. "Wake up."
Lily's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and confused. "Wha—is the cabin on fire?"
"No."
"Is the island sinking?"
"Islands don't sink."
"Then why are you waking me at—" she squinted at the window "—oh God, is that the sunrise? Alex, the sun isn't even fully up yet. This is inhumane."
"I made coffee." He held out the mug like a peace offering.
She stared at it, then at him, suspicion creeping into her sleep-soft features. "You made me coffee? Voluntarily? Without me begging?"
"Don't make a federal case out of it."
“You’re a freaking ray of sunshine." But she sat up, accepting the mug and wrapping both hands around it like a lifeline. After a long sip, some of the suspicion faded. "Okay. You have my attention. What's happening?"
Alex hesitated. This was the moment to backtrack, to tell her he was heading out alone and she should entertain herself for the day. The words were right there, sensible and safe.
Instead, he heard himself say: "There's a sea turtle nesting site on the other side of the island. I need to check on it. The eggs might be close to hatching."
Lily's eyebrows rose. "And you're telling me this because...?"
"Because I thought you might want to come."
The words hung in the air between them, more significant than they should have been. This wasn't like dragging her along for fruit gathering out of necessity. This was an invitation. A choice.
Her face transformed, surprise melting into something that looked dangerously like delight. "Dr. Carmichael, are you asking me on a field trip?"
"I'm offering you an educational opportunity," he corrected stiffly. "Don't read into it."
"I'm absolutely reading into it." She was grinning now, that megawatt smile that did unfortunate things to his pulse. "Give me ten minutes to get ready."
"Five."
"Seven."
"Fine. And wear actual shoes this time."
She snapped a salute, already scrambling off the couch. "Sir, yes sir."
Alex retreated to the porch, coffee in hand, wondering when exactly he'd lost control of his own life.
It's just practical, he told himself. An extra set of eyes for the nest check. Nothing more.
Even he didn't believe it.
True to her word, Lily emerged in six and a half minutes, wearing shorts, a loose tank top, and—miracle of miracles—she was wearing the hiking boots he’d offered previously.
They'd been left behind by some previous researcher, probably years ago based on the state of them, and Lily had initially rejected them as "war relics" and "crime scene evidence.
" Apparently desperation—or curiosity about sea turtles—had won out over fashion.
"Don't say anything," she warned, catching his glance at her feet.
"I wasn't going to."
"Your eyebrows said plenty."
They set off as the sun crested the tree line, following a path that wound through the interior of the island before cutting east toward the shore. The jungle was different at this hour—cooler, quieter, the usual symphony of birds still warming up for the day.
Lily fell into step beside him, her earlier sleepiness replaced by alert curiosity. "So, sea turtles. What's the deal? Are they endangered? Wait, don't tell me—of course they're endangered. Everything cool is endangered."
"Green sea turtles are listed as endangered, yes. They've been hunted for centuries for their meat, eggs, and shells. Add in habitat destruction, pollution, climate change affecting sand temperatures—"
"Sand temperatures matter?"
"For determining sex, yes. Warmer sand produces more females. As global temperatures rise, some populations are becoming almost entirely female, which creates its own set of problems for reproduction."
"Huh." Lily ducked under a low-hanging branch he held aside for her. "So hot sand equals all girls, which means eventually no boys to make more turtles. That's actually kind of fascinating in a depressing way."
"Welcome to marine biology. Fascinating and depressing is basically our brand."
She laughed—that genuine, unguarded sound he was beginning to crave. "That should be on a t-shirt. I'd buy it."
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the terrain growing rockier as they approached the eastern shore.
Alex found himself stealing glances at her, noting how she'd learned to navigate the jungle floor without stumbling, how her eyes tracked the wildlife with genuine interest instead of just searching for photo opportunities.
She was trying. That's what got him.
She wasn't just tolerating his world to pass time—she was actually engaging with it.
"Can I ask you something?" Lily said, breaking the silence.
"Depends on what it is."
"Why sea turtles? I mean, specifically. You could study any marine life. Why them?"
Alex considered the question, surprised to find he wanted to answer honestly.
"They've been around for over a hundred million years.
They survived the extinction that killed the dinosaurs.
They navigate thousands of miles across open ocean using the earth's magnetic field, and they return to the exact beach where they were born to lay their own eggs.
" He shook his head. "Something that ancient, that resilient—it deserves protecting. "
When he glanced at Lily, she was watching him with an expression he couldn't quite read.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing. You just... you're different when you talk about your work."
"Different how?"
"Less grumpy. More..." She searched for the word. "Human."
He wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult. With Lily, it was often both.
The trees thinned ahead, and Alex felt the familiar anticipation building in his chest. "We're almost there. Stay quiet when we reach the beach—if there's any activity at the nest, I don't want to disturb it."
"I can be quiet," Lily whispered.
"Since when?"
She mimed zipping her lips, and despite himself, Alex smiled.
The eastern beach never failed to stir something in Alex's chest.
He'd seen it dozens of times since arriving on the island, but the pristine crescent of pale gold sand against the impossible blue of the water still felt like a privilege. No footprints marred the surface except for the tracks leading from the tree line: his boots, her borrowed hiking shoes.
And something else.
"Is that..." Lily pointed at the distinctive pattern in the sand, trailing from the water toward a slight depression near the dunes.
"Turtle tracks." Alex's voice had dropped to something almost reverent. "Recent. From last night, probably."
He moved toward the nest site with careful steps, gesturing for her to follow. The depression in the sand was barely visible—she would have walked right past it without knowing—but Alex knelt beside it with the certainty of someone who knew exactly what to look for.
"She came back to check the site," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "Good sign. Means the eggs are developing normally."
Lily crouched beside him, and Alex became acutely aware of how close they were. Her shoulder nearly brushed his. He caught the scent of her shampoo—something floral mixed with salt air—and had to force his attention back to the sand.
"So how does this work?" she asked. "The hatching, I mean. Do you just... wait?"
"Mostly. Incubation takes about sixty days.
These eggs were laid roughly fifty-two days ago, so we're in the window.
Could be any time in the next week or two.
" He traced the outline of the nest with his fingertip, not quite touching the sand.
"When they hatch, they dig their way to the surface—usually at night, when it's cooler and there are fewer predators. Then they make a run for the ocean."
"That sounds terrifying. And kind of inspiring."
"It's both." He glanced at her, and for a moment, his guard was completely down. "I've seen it happen twice. Both times, I cried. Don't tell anyone."