Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
MORGAN
Ipoke my head up out of the water as another wave crashes over my snorkel. I glance back toward the boat and note that it’s moved farther from us than it was when we jumped in the water. I can see the taut line of the anchor chain, but the waves are moving the boat around for sure.
“Danny,” I call out when his head pops up, and he looks over at me, pushing his mask up to his forehead as he does. “The waves are getting a bit choppy, I’m going to swim back.”
He glances up, and I do the same. The white puffy clouds that were covering the sky when we rode across the harbor—which is separated from the open sea by small islands—are now gray. The air is cooler as the wind has picked up.
“Fuck. Yeah, let’s go.”
I’m extra thankful I decided to wear the life vest while snorkeling out here, given how hard I have to push through the waves to make it back to the boat. The waves aren’t that big but they feel angry, like the sea is churning.
He holds onto the side of the boat as I go up the steps on the back, then he follows me onto the deck.
I flip the steps up as he rushes to the bow to bring the anchor up.
Of course, with us so far from it and the boat pulling the chain, the anchor doesn’t budge when he tries to reel it in.
The wind whips around us, as though trying to carry his words away when he calls out something in my direction.
It’s obvious I can’t hear him, so he walks back to me.
“I’m going to have to jump in and dislodge the anchor from whatever it’s stuck on.
See how the wind is pushing us back toward that island?
Once the anchor is loose, there’s a good chance the boat will be pushed back into the reef, so here’s what we’re going to do .
. .” At the helm, he starts the engine and shows me how to accelerate slightly once I notice the anchor is loose.
“Won’t I just bring the boat right into you?”
“You’re only going to give it enough juice to keep the boat in place, not to move it forward. You’re basically just preventing it from going backward into the reef.”
My stomach churns. I don’t know anything about driving a boat, and I’m terrified I’ll run it right into him and kill him, but equally terrified of drifting back into the reef and becoming the next shipwreck in the harbor.
Especially because there’s nothing but jagged pieces of rock-like coral dotting the water and smooth cliffs of solid rock behind us, and the closest beach to us is the one we just came from.
Which looks very far away from over here, where we’re separated from it by hundreds of yards of choppy waves.
I’m fairly sure I could not swim over there even if my life depended on it.
I grab a larger life vest from the seat behind me and loop my arm through it in case Danny needs it after he dives for the anchor. With the way the sky is darkening, I’m worried that he’s not going to be able to see the bottom to find the anchor once he’s in the water.
“Okay, show me what to do again.”
He steps behind me, places one of my hands on a lever on the dashboard, and the other on the steering wheel.
His head dips low, near my ear, as he reminds me how to accelerate just enough to hold the boat steady, and what direction to turn the wheel to keep us moving away from the reef and cliffs behind us.
“You’re doing great, hold it just like this,” he says, then presses his lips to my temple before he returns to the bow, pulls his mask back down over his face, and jumps toward the anchor.
I can tell the minute he’s pulled it free because the boat is pushed backward a little, and I accelerate a tiny bit to hold us in place.
I scan the waves in front of the boat but he’s not there, which has me freaked out.
But I can’t leave the helm to look for him, or the boat’s going straight back into the rocks. Fuck my life.
I’m taking shaky breaths, trying not to panic, but I don’t know what I’m going to do if he doesn’t come up soon.
And that’s when the rain starts. It comes down in sheets and the waves get choppy enough that one of them crashes over the stern.
I glance behind me, and there’s water on the deck.
Oh my god, I don’t know what to freaking do here.
How did this beautiful day turn into this so quickly?
When I glance back at the bow, the anchor is sitting on it, and then the chain is thrown up onto it as well.
And then Danny must swim around to the back of the boat, because the stern dips down and when I glance back, he’s on the deck rushing to the front.
“Give it a little juice to move us away from this island while I roll the anchor in,” he calls as he rushes past.
I do as he says, feeling instantly relieved and a whole hell of a lot calmer now that he’s back on board. He reels the anchor in quickly, and then he’s back next to me, pulling the Bimini back and securing the blue canopy behind us.
“What are you doing?” I call out, annoyed that the one thing that was sort of blocking the rain is now gone and I’m being pelted by it.
“This thing would be ripped off the boat by the wind the minute we start moving if we left it up,” he says, as he comes up behind me, putting an arm around each side and covering my hands with his. “All right, we’re going to drive this together.”
“What?” There’s panic in my voice, because why? “This seems like something I should leave to a professional.”
“So you can sit there by yourself and freak out? No way. C’mon.” His words are practically a growl. I lean my head back against his chest, reminding myself that this is a very inopportune time to find this bossy man so damn sexy.
He guides us out into the harbor, away from the rocks, and I can feel him turn his upper body to the right, back toward the marina, and then to the left, toward the private beach we just came from.
“I don’t want to chance going the distance all the way to the other end of the harbor with the waves picking up like this,” he says.
“I think our best bet is to go back to the point, and beach the boat. There was that smaller cave right on the beach. We can get some shelter there until the storm passes.”
“Okay,” I call out over the wind. “Will you put a life vest on?”
“Will it make you feel better if I do?”
“Absolutely. If anything happens . . .”
“It won’t,” he says, but he drives the boat a little farther out and then holds the wheel steady with one hand while slipping the extra life vest off my arm with his other. “You’re driving while I get this thing on.”
“Do I just . . .” I ask, but before I can even finish the question, he’s already got his hands back over mine.
“All right, let’s see what this single engine can do.” With a rumble of laughter, he opens it up and we’re speeding across the short expanse of water at a far faster rate than we traveled before, which makes me realize just how slow he was going earlier to keep me comfortable on the boat.
Now, though, the speed is the thing keeping me comfortable, because with each moment that the beach comes closer, I feel safer.
Even with the loud howl of the wind, the rain lashing at my face and arms, and the boat bouncing in the choppy water, I feel safe because his arms are around me and he’s taking me to shore.
My skin stings from the elements, but as he slows the boat near the beach, I feel a palpable sense of relief.
On the ride over here, we watched several windsurfers leave their boards on the sand and hop into a larger boat that arrived to pick them up.
There’s no one else there now though, nor have we seen any other boats on our ride over. We are well and truly alone out here.
A huge crack of thunder has me startling, but Danny curls his body around mine protectively. “I’m going to slow us down so we can beach the boat. We can’t risk putting the anchor down and swimming to shore with thunder in the area.”
No sooner do the words leave his mouth than a huge, forked bolt of lightning streaks across the sky on the other side of the point. It’s out in the ocean, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe in the harbor.
The minute the bow hits the sand, he tells me to jump out and get away from the water.
Then he drives the boat up a little farther, moves to the back of the boat, pulls the motor up, and returns to the bow.
I watch from ten feet away as he pulls the anchor out and drags the chain up the shore.
“Best not lose the boat,” he yells over the wind, “you never know what the ocean will do in a storm.”
He stalks toward me across the sand, grabs my hand, and pulls me up the beach toward the small cave we barely bothered exploring before we ate lunch.
It’s not a large space, nothing like the one off the water that we watched the fish in, but it’s dry and just a bit quieter.
From here, the sound of the rain and the wind is comforting, not terrifying.
“Holy shit,” I say, pushing my hair off my face as he steps up in front of me. I lean forward, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my arms around his waist. My heart is beating so fast that I swear I can feel it against my rib cage.
He brings his hands to each side of my neck, and I can feel my pulse pounding against his palms. “You’re trembling,” he says, his voice quiet and concerned.
“That was . . . terrifying.”