Chapter Eighteen
Now
Sharp static poured out of the radio by Piper’s side. She’d flipped it on this morning for an update now that they’d passed
the two-day mark Rosie had promised. Wyatt strained forward and listened as Piper tuned the station to catch a garbled voice,
but nothing intelligible came through.
Piper stood, dusting sand off her bottom. “I’m going to see if I can get a signal on this thing if I go farther down the beach.”
She wanted to reach Rosie again, but she also needed a momentary breather from the strong current of Wyatt’s charm, which
threatened to pull her under. Even now, she wanted to be closer to him, touching him, kissing him. Learning all she could
about what he’d been up to since she’d last seen him.
Wyatt scrambled to his feet after her. “Great. I’ll try my luck fishing, so we aren’t stuck eating papayas again.”
They parted ways, and Piper walked down the beach, adjusting the radio’s channel dial, wishing she could change the station in her mind, which insisted on thinking about Wyatt. Hearing his voice, joking with him, getting lost in his eyes—it anchored her to a time when he’d consumed her every thought. Being around Wyatt these past few days made it easy to remember why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place—a slippery slope she might not survive sliding down again. In some ways, her ever-present grudge against him had served as a security blanket, protecting her from any more hurt. But as hard as she tried now, she couldn’t muster up the same level of anger toward the man on the beach, who’d bandaged her wounds, built them a shelter, and made her laugh hard enough to forget their life-or-death situation.
After she’d scrolled through the airwaves for several football field lengths of the beach, a welcome voice broke through the
static. “Hello, hello! Piper, Wyatt? Can you hear me?”
Piper grasped the radio, putting it right by her ear. “Yes! Hi! We were getting worried you’d forgotten about us.”
“Sorry to leave you hanging, but some bad weather cropped up that delayed our search,” Rosie explained. “Be on the lookout
for our planes over the next few days and flag us down if you see or hear us, okay? With any luck, we’ll find you by dinnertime
tomorrow, but it could be longer.”
Tears of relief sprang to Piper’s eyes. She choked out an acknowledgment of Rosie’s statement.
“Do you guys have enough water? Are you okay sitting tight for the time being?”
“Yes, we’re okay. We have water from a storm last night, but we’ll be waiting and ready for you. If you talk to my parents,
can you tell them I love them?” Piper’s heart squeezed tight at how worried her parents must be.
Rosie promised to pass the message along, and Piper switched the radio off, hugging it to her chest. The prickling desperation
to be as far away from Wyatt as possible might have faded, but she wanted to be home. She could already imagine taking the
longest shower of her life, hugging her parents tight, then sitting down for a southern buffet, warm biscuits melting in her
mouth. Her stomach protested at the mouthwatering image, reminding her she’d eaten only airport snacks and fruit for the past
few days.
Home by tomorrow night! The idea buoyed her with rejuvenated hope.
Not ready to walk back to Wyatt yet, Piper continued her trek along the shoreline. The low tide pulled the water back like a curtain, giving the sand the stage. As she walked, bright orange crabs, eyes sticking out like antennas, scuttled across the sand, ducking for cover every time the shadow of a seabird moved over the sand. One crab wasn’t quick enough, and a white bird with black-tipped wings swooped down and carried it away, another bird following him out over the water, fighting for a crab leg. If Wyatt didn’t catch any fish, maybe they’d have some luck with the crabs.
The beach usually dead-ended at the foot of the cliffside, the water splashing against the rocks, but with the low tide, a
narrow passage of sand now outlined it. Curious about what was on the other side, Piper walked the tightrope of sand between
the rocks and the sea. When she rounded the bend, the same white beach stretched before her, bordered by more gnarled trees
bent by the ocean wind. The only visible difference on this side was more rocks dotting the sand.
Her heart sank. Of course it looked the same. What had she been expecting—a grand hotel? A docked cruise ship? She didn’t
know, but confirmation that they were indeed on a remote island knocked the wind out of her sails.
Her appetite to explore further evaporated—though her appetite for food strengthened—so she headed back to their base camp.
She was so focused on getting to the other side of the beach she almost didn’t notice the sun glinting off an object bobbing
in the water. Shielding her eyes for a better look, she scanned the whitecaps. Sure enough, something close to the shoreline
vanished and reappeared with each swell of water.
The object resembled a suitcase or a plastic container, not something that belonged in the ocean. If she squinted hard enough,
it almost looked like the Yeti cooler Wyatt had pointed out on the plane, the one filled with refreshments. But that was probably
her hunger talking.
Piper wasn’t a great swimmer, having failed to overcome her fear of putting her face in the water at YMCA swim camp years ago. So far, she’d avoided the ocean on this extended layover, but by the time she flagged Wyatt down, whatever was out there could be too far for either of them to reach safely.
This was up to her.
Stripping down to her red one-piece bathing suit, Piper gave herself a quick pep talk about the low statistics of shark attacks
before wading into the ocean. The water, she noted with relief, was as tranquil as it had appeared from the beach. The calm
after the storm. She swam a few easy strokes, allowing her body to get used to the movement. When she spotted the telltale
U.S. Army and Captain America stickers on the front of the plane’s Yeti bobbing in front of her, she quickened her pace, in
disbelief until she had her arms wrapped around it.
Though the cooler was buoyant, pushing it back toward shore required more effort than swimming out to it had, especially where
the waves met the beach. Once the ocean no longer supported the cooler’s weight, it smashed into her shins repeatedly as she
wrestled it onto dry land. By the time she dragged it and herself onto the sand, she was woozy and out of breath but proud
of herself.
Unlatching the lid, she held her breath, saying every prayer she knew that there would be something worthwhile inside, then
peeked into the cooler through the cracks between her fingers. Ocean water filled the container, and the whole thing stank
like dead fish, but several cans of Coke and Miller Lite floated in the water, looking better than a million dollars. Even
a bottle of prosecco remained intact, and she counted at least four water bottles. She pushed aside some cans, and her heart
almost stopped at the subsequent discovery—two blocks of Cabot cheddar cheese, still packaged, and a plastic carton of Oreo
cookies.
Wanting to be sure she hadn’t cracked up and imagined it all, she rubbed her eyes and counted to three before looking in the cooler again. Sure enough, the food and drinks bobbed in the water like a game-day buffet. A slow smile spread across her face. Wyatt would be thrilled. More than thrilled, he would lose his mind.
Piper dumped out the excess ocean water, placed the radio and her clothes on top of the lid, and used both hands to drag the
cooler back toward their base camp. Halfway there, she gave up lugging it herself and left it in the sand for Wyatt to carry
the rest of the way. His muscles were far better suited to this job. As he came into view, she broke into a run.
“ Wyatt! ” she screamed down the beach, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Wyatt, come see what I found!”
From his fishing post on the shore, Wyatt’s head popped up like a gopher, and he splashed out of the water.
“ Piper? ” He sounded frantic as he sprinted toward her. He’d stripped down to his swim trunks, and in the new dawn of a full cooler,
she could fully appreciate his overwhelming gorgeousness—all hard muscles and glistening tan skin.
When they met in the middle, she jumped into his arms, wanting to wipe the worried look off his face and celebrate with him.
His arms looped around her, hugging her back. The sensation of his chest against her mostly bare body sent ripples of desire
through her. As she inhaled his familiar woodsy scent, she fought the temptation to entwine her legs around him and smother
his neck, cheek, and lips with kisses.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Wyatt’s fingers slid into her hair, assessing her head for bumps. He set her down, searching
her face for an answer, adorable in his concern.
Piper shook him off. “I’m fine!”
His eyes remained cloudy with worry. “Why are you wet? Did you go in the ocean?”
“Yes, and I found something you won’t believe. But I need your help bringing it back here.” She tugged on his arm to pull him down the beach, but he didn’t budge.
“Jesus, Piper, you nearly gave me a heart attack running down the beach like a Baywatch babe.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “A Baywatch babe?”
“Yeah, I mean, look at you.”
She glanced down. The sun had burned her skin red as her bathing suit, whose straps hung off her shoulders from the weight
she’d lost. Saltwater had created beach waves no salon could replicate in her wild yellow mane, probably because no one would
request looking so untamed. The high cut of this one-piece made her legs impossibly long, and the loose straps showed more
cleavage than she usually would, but she was far from Pamela Anderson.
Still, Wyatt stared at her like he might tear her bathing suit off, his eyes so dark they burned like charcoal. Heat pooled
between Piper’s thighs. What had she come to tell him again? Her stomach whined. Oh, right, food!
“How’s your hunger?” she asked.
His eyes darkened further. “Very loud. Why?”
Piper swallowed thickly. Were they still talking about food? “I have a surprise for you. Come with me.”
Wyatt grunted but followed her along the shore.
When the cooler came into view, she turned back to him to say, “Close your eyes.”
“Piper,” he protested.
“Come on, just do it. Please!”
He obliged, holding on to her arm as she led him forward. This was more fun than she’d expected. Once they were right in front
of the Yeti, Piper opened the lid.
“Okay. You can look!”
Wyatt blinked, then narrowed in on the cooler. His mouth fell open. “Is this real? Or did we both die, and this is some kind of weird limbo?” He knelt, pushing aside the floating cans.
“No, I don’t think we’re on some spinoff of Lost —I think the storm brought it from wherever it landed.” Piper pulled back on her tank top and shorts.
“You swam to get this? What happened to conserving energy?” He knew about her mistrust of the ocean and sounded proud—and
a little amused.
“I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” She rolled her eyes in exaggeration.
Wyatt grinned. “Hmm, sounds like I’m not such a bad influence, after all.”
He ripped open the cheese and sniffed it before breaking off a hearty chunk and handing her a piece of the cheddar. They both
moaned in delight as the warm cheese hit their tongues.
“Is it just me, or is this the best thing you’ve ever had?” he asked.
“It’s not just you. And I have more good news.” Piper swallowed her mouthful of cheese. “I reached the rescue station on the
radio, and they said the storm delayed them, but they’re sending out a crew to find us soon. Wyatt, we could be home by tomorrow
night!”
Wyatt paused midbite. “That’s great.” He smiled tightly, but his gaze cut away from her, focusing instead on the endless ocean.