Chapter 22 The Ride #2
“What kind of sandwich is it?”
“Jalapeno.”
“This will be a first.”
“You can give them to me if you don’t like ’em.”
“Who doesn’t love jalapeno?”
“Plenty of people, but I’m an addict. And just so you know, there’s some veggies and provolone thrown in too,” he said.
They ate and talked, and Minnow had to quench the fire in her mouth with the beer, which went down too easily. He told her
more about the San Juan Islands and she told him about her travels, and they kept it real but safe. They shared the same fork
without question and steered clear of the news and the shark hunt. It was too raw to even think about, let alone discuss with
Luke. Nor did Minnow mention she would be leaving the island as soon as she could get a ticket. The moment felt perfect and
peaceful and she didn’t want to ruin it. There would be time for that later.
“Where are these meteors you speak of?” she asked. She’d kept an eye out for the past half hour and hadn’t seen anything.
“It might be too early. Middle of the night is when the show is really supposed to start.”
They sat with that for a while, and she imagined lying with him somewhere entangled under the stars, the feeling of his sandpapery
hands running down her body.
As if he’d read her mind, he stuffed the trash in the bag and stood up. “We should probably head in.”
She was disappointed, not ready for this to end. “Sure, okay.”
They motored in the direction of distant lights. A few minutes later, something flashed behind them. Minnow spun around, but
the horizon was black.
“Lightning,” she said.
“Yeah. Those clouds have been lurking all day, but I think they’re finally moving in.”
Another flash, and the whole horizon lit up neon blue and electric white. There was no place more terrifying to be in a lightning
storm than on a boat, which she guessed Luke knew too.
Instead, he said, “We have time.”
She wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself, but either way, he was wrong. Minnow kept an eye on the storm
cloud, which looked to be larger than the whole island. With the next explosion, a streak of lightning shot down to the water,
spilling out in all directions. Every hair on her body stood on end. “I don’t know about that. I’d gun it in,” she said.
“I think you’re right. Hang on.”
He shoved the throttle forward and they hurtled toward land. The first thunder came when they were about a half mile offshore,
a low and faraway rumble.
Woody had wedged a solar light into the rocks that stuck out on the north end of the bay and had planted a couple under the
coconut trees, and Minnow scanned the dark coastline south of the Kiawe for them. It would have been easier to go in at the
resort, but that was another ten minutes away. The wind on her face cooled some, but the water stayed smooth as glass.
“There,” she said. “Can you see the Whaler?”
A flash turned everything white. The boat, the house, the trees.
“Affirmative.”
Luke flipped on a bright light mounted on the bimini top. “I hate to use this, but sometimes you have to.”
Minnow pointed. “There’s another mooring over there. If I were you, I’d tie off and swim in with me.”
Their eyes met and held. It was madness to invite him into the house. She didn’t trust herself alone in a storm with this
man, but what choice did she have?
“I should be fine.”
Another bright flash, and two air masses slammed together not far away, rendering the air staticky and charged with energy.
“Leave everything. Let’s go,” she said, grabbing his hand.
He didn’t argue, turning the light off and letting her pull him aft.
They jumped in the water together, fully clothed.
This mooring was farther out than the other and it suddenly seemed a long way to shore.
Minnow put her head down and went for it, oblivious to what might be beneath, hunting in the dark waters.
Luke stayed next to her the whole way in.
When her hand hit the sand and pebbles, she stood up.
“Follow me,” she said, out of breath.
The first raindrop hit her shoulders then, and by the time they made it to the house, it was pouring down in sheets. She ducked
under the eave and felt around the sliding door for the handle. Luke bumped up against her, one hand settling on her hip.
His closeness gave her goose bumps, and she expected him to move his hand away, but he didn’t. He just stood there, a few
inches away, smelling like rain and thunder.
She found the indentation and slid the door open, moving through the dark to distance herself from him.
“There’s a generator, but it’s out by the pond in the back,” she said, lighting the glass lantern in the center of the table.
“What do we need a generator for?”
“So we can see.”
“I can see just fine.”
Without Luke standing right there, she would have peeled off her wet clothes, but she ducked into the bathroom and stripped
naked, then wrapped herself in one of the many bright pareos that the Kaupikos kept on a shelf. She took one for Luke too.
“Here,” she said, handing it to him.
He was no longer wearing a shirt, and her gaze slid down over his sleek, wet body. In the hurricane-lamp light, he was the
color of burnt ochre.
“What is this?” he asked.
Rain on the metal roof made it hard to hear him.
“A pareo, Woody calls it. He wears it around his waist in the mornings,” she said, raising her voice.
At first she thought he would refuse it, but he went into the bathroom and came out a few minutes later. “I’m not big on wearing skirts, but when in Hawai?i . . .”
Minnow laughed. “I like the look on you.”
He stepped toward her. “Do you?”
She swayed a little, and not just from having been on a boat. More like Luke was drawing her into his gravitational field.
“Definitely.”
Another step. Minnow remained planted and swallowed hard. This was happening and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Nor did she want to. Luke came toward her until he was close enough to kiss if she just leaned in. Her heart pounded wildly.
“I like the look on you too. Maybe a little too much,” he said, setting both hands lightly on her shoulders and dropping down
to press his forehead against hers.
Minnow inhaled his breath as one of his hands ran up the back of her neck and into her hair, getting stuck in her wet curls.
He pulled back and smiled, and the way he looked so searchingly into her eyes made her feel raw and exposed.
His mouth moved to her ear. “Tell me I can kiss you.”
Their lips came together, feather soft. She wasn’t really sure who kissed whom, all she knew was he tasted salty and a little
like mint. Her fingers gripped his back and she held on, trying to pull him closer until every inch of her was touching every
inch of him, if that were possible. His tongue worked slowly around her mouth, exploring, teasing, then moving on to kiss
her jawline and trace down her throat and collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.
Luke spoke into her skin and it sounded something like, “You taste like ocean.”
Around them, lightning flashed through the house, followed closely by a thunderclap that rattled her teeth. Luke jumped higher
than she did.
“There’s a metal windmill behind the pond, where the well is. It’s taller than the roof, so let’s hope if lightning hits, it’ll hit that,” she said.
“I’m not worried.”
Before she knew it, he was kissing her again and pressing her hard against the counter. She felt ragged with want and barely
noticed the wood in her back. They were both still damp, and Minnow could have sworn that steam lifted off him, he was that
hot. A small voice of reason tried to question if being with Luke was the best course of action, but the sound of driving
rain and his heartbeat drowned it out.
His palm slid inside her pareo and he traced circles on her bare belly. She had nothing on besides the piece of material.
Neither did he. This knowledge felt both dangerous and thrilling at the same time. She melted into him even further and gasped
when his hand brushed the bottom of one breast, and then the next.
There was something about his closeness that caused a dent in her field, an opening and a flooding of feelings. Suddenly her
whole body started trembling.
He pulled his hand away. “You’re shaking. Are you okay?”
He was backlit by the lamp, and concern filled his eyes.
“I’m fine, just cold,” she lied.
Luke wrapped her in his arms and she rested her cheek against his chest, letting the rise and fall of his breath calm her.
He rubbed her back. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong. It’s just . . . I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since
that first morning at the Saltwater Bar.”
Minnow knew the feeling. “Don’t apologize.”
“But I—”
She held a finger up to his lips and led him toward the bed.
She sat down on the edge and he knelt in front of her.
Her legs parted and she still felt a tremor in them.
She wanted him to squelch the fear. Luke leaned in with both hands high on her thighs.
He kissed her again. This time, soft as feather boa kelp.
She ran her hands down his chest, then traced the indentations of his abdomen.
His whole body tensed up when she got to the top of his pareo, which was slung low on his waist, but she stopped there.
Whatever this was, it seemed like so much more than plain old physical longing. Minnow felt bound to him inextricably, like
he was a mooring and she a boat. Tied on and floating around him but never quite touching.
The rain came down even harder now, but the thunder and lightning had moved off a ways. Luke kneaded her thighs with rising
force, then stood and swept her legs onto the bed and lay her down. He lay next to her on his side, propped up on his elbow.
Shadows flicked around his face, and one side of his mouth curved up in a smile that went straight to her core.
“It feels like a dream, doesn’t it?” he said, motioning around them. “This. You.”
He seemed so happy, it made her feel bad.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said.
The words slipped out on their own accord, and the minute she spoke them, she regretted it. The thought of not seeing him
again turned her heart dark, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
Luke went rigid. “What?”
“Well, tomorrow or the next day. Before the weekend. As soon as I can. I can’t be here for the hunt,” she said, looking out
at the falling rain.
He let out a long breath while Minnow held hers, waiting for him to say something. A new heaviness surrounded them and she
knew that bringing him in here had been a mistake.
“So you’re running away. I guess I had you pegged wrong,” he said, sitting up and running his hands through his hair.
His words hit a nerve, and Minnow slid out of the bed. “I came here on a dime and have poured my soul into trying to figure
out what’s happening and stop a mass culling. I’ve done everything I could to prevent mass hysteria. But why are you here,
Luke? There’s something you haven’t told me—I can feel it loud and clear.”
Luke stood up and his pareo slid off his hip, exposing his bone-white skin. He tugged it back up. “You wouldn’t understand. Any of it.”
He went to the sliding door and stared out at the dark ocean, running his hands through his hair and tugging at it. Minnow
got the feeling he was weighing his options: reveal whatever it was he was holding on to or make a run for it. The rush of
rain on the roof had lightened, but it was still coming down with a steady hiss.
“Try me,” she said.
“You’re leaving. It doesn’t matter.”
She pressed him. “It does matter. I’m so confused, Luke. You obviously know a lot about marine life and you care about orcas and turtles. But what
about sharks? Are they somehow different?”
“No. They aren’t different,” he said, quietly.
“Then what?”
For the first time, she saw his shoulders sag, like someone let all his air out, and she felt bad for a few heartbeats, but
then he turned and said, “I’m not the man you think I am. I should probably go. I’m sorry, Minnow. I really am.”
He made a run for it.
Minnow stumbled back onto the bed.
The shivers started up again.