Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Imogen hadn’t heard from Jury, and they would be boarding the plane soon. She’d like to say she was surprised, but who knew where they were or if Leo was running dark without Wi-Fi capabilities?
Either way, Imogen packed her very best island wedding clothes and swimsuits. She debated over her wetsuit, mask, and flippers. “Should I bring them?”
“Why not? You’ve got room. If we get the chance, you’re definitely going scuba diving.”
Nic was right. There was no chance she was going to Vanuatu and not diving.
She added them to her suitcase and flipped it shut. “All right. Ready to rock.”
He zipped his. “All right, Mrs. St. Clair, let’s do this.”
Nic texted Leo again as soon as they landed, which was approximately thirty million hours later.
“I just want a shower and a bed,” Imogen said.
Where the fuck is Leo?
Nic’s phone buzzed with a text.
Leo
What the fuck do you mean, you’re in Vanuatu? We didn’t send anything. How’d you even know we were coming here?
Nic froze and wrapped his hand around Imogen’s arm before she could walk through the airport doors to leave the Customs area.
“What?”
Her eyes were sleepy, and he didn’t know how to break it to her except to tell her the truth.
“Leo and Jury didn’t send the plane tickets.”
Imogen blinked several times in rapid succession. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“Then who …”
Nic looked through the window to the Arrivals area of the small airport, where drivers and families were waiting.
“I don’t know.”
Imogen’s other hand grabbed his arm. “You don’t think …” She trailed off, but he knew exactly what she wasn’t saying.
“There’s only one way to find out. Stay close to me.”
Everything in Nic told him they weren’t in danger, but being sent plane tickets to a tiny island nation by an unknown source and learning it was an unknown source after arriving demanded extreme caution.
He wasn’t letting anything happen to Imogen.
He’d made promises to her father on their wedding day.
Together, they exited Customs, and Nic’s gaze swept the waiting signs. A man in a fedora, with sunglasses, a Hawaiian print shirt, and khaki shorts with Japanese tattoos covering all visible skin to his wrists and flip-flops stood out to him. His sign read Imogen & Nic.
Nic studied him, but the smile on his face seemed genuine, and Nic wasn’t clocking any creepy or malevolent vibes.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“A friend,” he replied. “Of a close friend.”
Mount. It had to be. The man even looks like him, except for the incredible tattoos.
“How can we trust you?”
“Ms. Jury and Mr. Leo will be making berth soon on the east side of the island. It’s time for a family reunion.”
Imogen’s hand squeezed his arm. “Nic …” she whispered.
“Answer me this,” he said, needing confirmation beyond a shadow of a doubt. “What was Imogen’s maternal grandmother’s maiden name?”
Nic half expected him to say, I’m just the driver, man.
“Kerry. From their homeland.”
“And whose middle name is it?”
“Ms. Jury’s and Mrs. Kilgore’s.”
Nic looked at Imogen.
“Nic …” She squeezed his arm again and asked, “What is Aurora’s middle name?”
“Erin.”
Her grip tightened as she whispered, “Oh my God. Is this really what we think this is?”
The man’s smile softened. “Yes, it really is.”
Nic knew she wanted to jump up and down and squeal.
Instead, she hugged his arm. “Let’s go. Please.”
His wife was a little more willing to jump in a car with a stranger in a strange land than he was, but his gut said even though it was unexpected, they were in no danger.
“All right. Fuck it. Let’s go.”