19. Sand-Sational #3
My back presses into the wet sand as the water washes over me, over us.
His hands cup my face as he bends down, chest to chest. Silas’s thumb brushes the corner of my lips, a tender, loving look in his eyes, and my laughter falters as I look up at him.
I slide a hand up his neck and into his wavy hair, all the dark things, the sad things, the treacherous things slipping away until it’s only us on this beach, only this moment.
Our chests rise and fall as one, the warm seawater dousing us as our gazes lock.
“You are a strange man,” he whispers.
“I do my best.”
“I’ve never seen something like this. Never known someone like you.”
“There are other things,” I say. “But you can’t tell a soul, Silas. They wouldn’t understand, not like you. Promise me,” I add when he doesn’t say anything.
“I promise, Laszlo.”
We stare at each other. The soft lap of the sea is in my ears, the shrill cries of the seagulls.
I blink up at him, taking in the sharp angles of his face before my eyes find their way to his lips.
Smiling, I strain up and kiss him. We sink into the sand as he pushes closer, and it feels odd to be at home here, to wonder what would have happened to me if I had never boarded She Deceitful in London, never tried on that jacket, never seen this man for who he truly is.
And as he straddles my hips and the kiss deepens, I think, I’m the luckiest man alive.
He’s discarded his shirt and tossed it over a nearby rock as the sun beats down on us. He lies sprawled on the beach with a smile on his face as I lean across him and pat sand around his limbs.
“What are you doing?” he asks with a laugh.
“Making sure you can’t leave.”
He squints up at me. “I do have captain duties to attend to.”
“Never.” I shake my head as I finish off the last of the sand. “Besides, I’m sure the crew is doing just fine without you.”
Silas strains to sit up. “Seriously, Laszlo, what are you doing?’” he asks, suspicious.
“Just hold still!” He wiggles one of his feet, and the sand shakes free. I slap his foot and pat fresh sand over it. “I’m almost done, promise.”
Winking, I stand and cross to my phone, snapping a picture.
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” I say, covering my mouth with a snicker. Captain Silas Night has never been so still as in this moment, completely packed in by sand.
“What is this?” He looks so angry, it’s almost cute.
“Nothing. Can’t you sit still for a moment?”
“Are you taking a … what did you call it, a photo of me?” he asks as he moves to sit up, freeing one of his hands.
I laugh as I scramble to stop him. “Noooo, don’t move!
” Straddling him by the hips, I press his free hand into the sand.
Silas narrows his eyes even as blush colors his cheeks, and I ignore his pointed stare as I stick my phone in the sand as it records us.
Sitting forward, my hands sliding into his hair, I cup his face.
Sighing contently, I lean down until our foreheads press together and our noses brush, and before I know it, we’re kissing.
There’s a giddy feeling bubbling in my chest as our lips meet.
And I don’t know how we got here, how the universe decided I’d have to go through hell and back to find Silas, but for its part in our story, I will be forever grateful.
Breathless, I climb off him and help brush away the sand.
“You make a beautiful sand person,” I tell him.
My fingers linger over his belly and arms as the last of the sand falls away, and I feel so breathless, so warm as my hand skates across his skin, touching him in places I’ve longed to for weeks.
I want to keep kissing, but I’m trying to take control of my feelings, to show that I am not nearly as desperate for him as I actually am despite the brief time we’ve known each other, so I settle for threading my fingers through his as he pulls me to stand.
I sweep away the last of the sand before he turns and looks out over the water, eyes scanning the oranges of a setting sun.
The colors set him ablaze, and I can see hints of red in his dark hair, see the flash of light as the last of the sun’s rays catch on streaks of gray and silver in his tumbling locks, now set free and cascading down his shoulders.
How long has it been since he enjoyed himself, since he really relaxed? We’ve been here for at least several hours, rolling around in the sand and kissing, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
I drop his hand and step back to snap a photo of his silhouette against the setting sun, and he is so beautiful that it takes my breath away. Smiling to myself, I power off my phone and pocket it.
“What’s really in the journal?” he asks after a beat, turning to me.
“I didn’t lie, not really. It has notes, things about you, the crew, rigging, even Pip. Where I’m from, I make up stories.”
He frowns. “Stories about pirates?”
“Not always. Just this time. I happened to land on your ship, and figured I’d take advantage of it. But that’s not the only reason I’m still here,” I say quickly as his frown deepens. “I like you, Silas. I like … I like being here with you.”
He doesn’t say anything, brow knit as he thinks.
“Come on, we should head back,” I say, holding out a hand.
He smiles softly as he takes it and scoops up his boots and shirt along the way. Silas shakes out the sand, smiling over his shoulder at me. “Jack hasn’t come in search of me,” he says wonderingly. We fight through the sand toward the trail. “The crew must be doing fine.”
“I can imagine how strange that must feel,” I say.
We tiptoe down the trail back toward the crew.
It’s nearly dark as we reemerge onto the large beach, so neither of us sees the people waiting for us on either side of the trail until it’s too late.
Silas drops his boots and shirt as he holds up his hands in surrender.
He nods to me, and I do the same, hoping they won’t think to check my pockets and find my phone nestled there.
I feel the cool blade as it’s pressed into my skin, and my stomach does little flips as we are shoved toward the beach.
Torches have been lit along the sand. It takes my vision a moment to adjust to the soft lighting, and I squint against the darkness to where the last of our crew is crowded in a circle at the center of the beach.
Swords, knives, and pistols are aimed at them as Silas and I shuffle forward through the sand.
Astra is bound with their hands behind their head at the front of the group as they scowl up at a pistol, and I spot Jack and Mick in the back, heads bent together as they whisper.
“Hey!” someone says as they nudge Jack with their pistol. “No talking.”
From the scattered remnants, it appears the crew made a large headway with the foremast and sails but were forced to stop halfway through, everything abandoned across the beach in disarray.
My knees shake as we are forced ahead, and I wonder if we’re going to die. The pirate life has its risks, but I assumed we’d be safe here.
“What do we do?” I whisper as we’re shoved down to our knees in the sand. I nearly fall forward, catching myself by the elbows before straightening.
The light of the torches bounces off Silas’s tanned skin as he glances sidelong at me. He looks defeated as he responds, “I don’t know.”
My stomach drops. Heart in my throat and fear clawing its way through my insides, I search the beach frantically. If Captain Silas Night believes nothing can be done, then we are well and truly fucked.