Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Six months later…
R onin awoke, stretching as carefully as he could not to awaken his omega. The shadows of the nearby coconut trees danced over his beautiful face as the breeze moved them outside, dappling sun and shade on his cheeks already littered with freckles. Freckles had popped up all over the more Shiloh was in the sun, and Ronin had made it his duty to investigate them often to see if any new ones appeared. It gave him the perfect excuse to kiss every single one of those freckles, new or otherwise, on a regular basis.
Shiloh mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and rolled to his side, curling into the crook of Ronin’s arm. He smiled, running a gentle hand over his omega’s expanding belly. While they were both growing more and more scared as their time ran short before Shiloh would give birth, he couldn’t ignore how sexy his omega looked full and round with their child.
He traced his fingertips over the swell, in awe of what his mate could do. A little bit of Shiloh and a dash of Ronin—and they’d made a new life. A new life they’d have to figure out how to provide for and protect on a deserted island.
His gaze drifted to the haphazard remnants of the crib he’d attempted to build with bamboo and vines. It had looked great, but after he’d placed one heavy gallon of water inside to test the strength, it had come apart. He’d have to go back to the drawing board and hopefully figure out a design before the baby came—although, Shiloh’s weaving skills were beginning to look really good. He’d already made multiple baskets to use for collecting the papaya, pineapple, passionfruit, and breadfruit from around the island, and they were sturdy enough to hold a decent amount. Maybe they’d have to weave a crib instead.
“I see steam coming off your head,” Shiloh whispered.
Ronin glanced up, his hand still dreamily drawing circles over Shiloh’s belly. “No you can’t. Your eyes are closed.”
“You’ll figure out the crib,” Shiloh whispered. “We still have time.”
“It’s starting to feel like we don’t,” Ronin replied sourly. The instant he did, he saw concern in Shiloh’s eyes and immediately regretted vocalizing his moment of doubt. For months, he’d been the voice of optimism, hoping he might wish a rescue into existence. As the months flew past, he’d gotten more and more cynical of their chances—though he’d tried to hide those thoughts from Shiloh. He slid his hand from Shiloh’s belly and skated it up, grazing a stiff nipple on his way to capture his mate’s face for a kiss. “But you’re right. We’ll get there. We still have a few more months.”
“I wish I’d paid closer attention in health class all those years ago,” Shiloh muttered.
“You’d think a biologist would know more about how the body worked.”
Shiloh swatted at his arm. “A marine biologist. Other than a couple of basic biology classes first year, I’ve been focused on aquatic life, which is much, much different than ours for the most part.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Speaking of marine biology, do you remember if I brought in my notebook?”
Shiloh had been taking advantage of a collection of tide pools a ways down the from the pier to watch some of the native fish in the mornings and late afternoons. He sketched and took notes on their habits. They’d also swam out to a coral reef not too far from that a few times, but without scuba equipment, or a snorkel at the very least, they were only able to go under for brief minutes at a time. At least the water was crystal clear, and they could watch some of the activity from above the surface, too.
“I don’t remember you having it when you came in,” Ronin said. “You may have left it on the beach.”
“Damn, I hope I didn’t leave it too close to the water. The tide might’ve pulled it out. All my hard work gone.”
Ronin smiled as he slowly slid out of bed. “You’re the only student I know who gives himself homework on his summer break.”
“It’s hardly summer anymore, no matter how hot it is here. Since I’m missing the fall semester, I figured I’d work on thesis ideas—turn my time here into something productive.”
Ronin pointed at his omega’s belly. “You’re doing something productive at all times these days.” He leaned over the bed and stole a kiss. “I’ll go see if I can find your notebook.”
“The last place I remember laying it was under my sitting tree.”
Ronin chuckled. His sitting tree. Shiloh had use coconut husks and fibers to fashion himself a pillow of sorts for when he sat against a palm tree and jotted his thoughts in that damned notebook of his. The notebook itself had been found in someone’s luggage, partially used. Shiloh had carefully dried the pages in the sun and then rewired the notebook’s spiral binding through the holes. They’d stumbled over a tiny bit of pencil in a junk drawer and he’d turned trash into treasure.
After six months, it was packed with beautiful, lifelike sketches and copious notes. If Shiloh hadn’t become a marine biologist, he should’ve become an artist. If they ever made it home, he planned to keep Shiloh stocked with all the art supplies necessary for that creativity to find its way out. He ambled down their well-worn path to the beach and found the notebook exactly where Shiloh had suggested it would be. He leaned down and picked it and the pencil up—and noticed an amazing sketch of their island.
Ronin smiled, awed by Shiloh’s talent. He turned a few more pages and stopped on one where his omega had drawn him numerous times. Figure studies, he thought they were called, but most where just him from the shoulders up. One was of him frowning in deep thought, looking down. Another was of him smiling, looking Shiloh’s direction with love in his eyes. Another was larger—his entire body in profile with his hands gripping the net in the water, attempting to catch their dinner.
They were so masterful, they almost resembled photographs. When he turned another page and saw a sketch of Shiloh’s growing belly and their hands entwined, fingers linked over the swell, tears burned the backs of his eyes. It had to be one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. He closed the notebook and carried it like precious cargo. It was the story of their lives there on that island, a history they could look back on someday. Soon, the pages would be filled with a baby’s sweet face. As he strolled back to the house, Ronin wondered which of them their baby would favor—or would it be an equal share? He couldn’t wait to find out.
And was equally terrified of finding out. He returned inside the cooler shade and handed over the notebook. “Safe and sound.”
“Ah, perfect,” Shiloh said, relief in his voice. “Thank y?—”
Shiloh was cut off by the sound of a plane’s engine flying over the island. Ronin froze for a split second before spinning on one foot and racing outside the house. He moved in the direction the plane flew. He raced, digging his feet as fast as he could in the sand. When he came to a halt on the middle of the beach, he scanned the sky, looking for the aircraft.
And found nothing.
Disappointment—and the run—left it hard to breathe. They’d been so close. Had someone seen their sign? He spun in a circle, searching the sky again. Finally, the plane appeared, flying even lower over the island. Ronin waved his arms and jumped up and down, screaming at the top of his lungs as if the pilot could hear him over the roar of the engines. It was a small prop plane, and he thought he saw a wave from the pilot, but it was hard to see with the glare from the sun.
It did one more circle overhead before flying away.
“No, no, no!” Ronin screamed as he watched the plane disappear from sight. He pulled his hair, desperate to know if they’d truly been seen.
“It’s not like they can land here,” Shiloh said behind him, waddling nearer. “If they saw you, hopefully they’ll send word to someone who can come pick us up.”
Ronin supposed Shiloh was right, but he wanted to know. Not later, but right then. He needed to know his mate and child were safe. He lifted a hand and urged Shiloh closer. He dropped to the sand on both knees and pressed his forehead against Shiloh’s belly. The pilot had to have seen him. If not, the lives of his omega and their child might hang in the balance.
Shiloh gently ran his fingers through Ronin’s hair. “We sit back and wait, I guess.”
Ronin pressed a kiss to the center of Shiloh’s belly before rising to full height. He hugged Shiloh close and kissed him. “I just hope that wave I thought I saw wasn’t just a figment of my desperate imagination.” He gazed about the island. “Should we pack up?”
“What are we taking with us? The only thing I plan to take is my notebook,” he said, lifting it.
“Well, we should try to leave the house somewhat like we found it, I suppose. I’ll go straighten things up in there. Do you mind sitting under your thinking tree and keeping watch for any boats coming our way?”
Shiloh nodded. “It’ll likely be awhile before anyone can get here by boat. We can both tidy the cabin up together.”
Ronin lifted a brow. “If I catch you lifting just one item over ten pounds, I will banish you to your tree.”
Shiloh mimicked a monkey’s call. They’d heard enough of the little beasts screaming in the night to know the sounds by heart. Two cheeky little ones kept stealing slices of papaya Shiloh had been trying to dry in the sun. Shiloh grumbled about it, but Ronin thought he was leaving the slices out there for the two babies since they already had enough dried fruit to last for years. He wasn’t sure what Shiloh had been preparing for, but they were ready, nonetheless.
Ronin grabbed Shiloh and pulled him close, trying not to get too excited and hopeful. “He had to have seen me. I’m huge. He passed several times. If he didn’t see me, maybe he saw the sign.”
Shiloh didn’t say anything.
Ronin paused, pulling Shiloh to a stop. “What’s wrong?”
Tears shimmered in Shiloh’s eyes. “Nothing.”
Ronin dabbed at the corner of one, hating to see Shiloh upset. “That’s not nothing.”
“Pregnancy hormones, that’s all.”
Ronin wouldn’t let Shiloh go. “Talk to me, pet.”
Shiloh’s bottom lip quivered. “All I’ve wanted was for us to go home. Since the day we washed up here… but it’s also been… incredible, too. Being here. Just you and I. Insulated away from the rest of the world.” He sniffled. “When we go back, we’ll have new challenges to face, and our relationship will change.”
“It won’t,” Ronin said.
“It will, and we both know it. I’ll have school. You’ll have work. We’ll have obligations and friends and family—and the baby added in soon, too.” He sighed. “No more engineering makeshift cribs or baskets. No more chasing off monkeys trying to steal our fruit. No more quiet walks along the beach, hand-in-hand. No lying in your arms late at night, listening to the waves crashing against the shore. No more being with one another twenty-four-seven, working to survive together.”
Ronin cupped one of Shiloh’s cheeks, squeezing his omega’s hand with the other. He realized Shiloh was right. Their world would change once they stepped foot off the island, more dramatically than he’d considered. “I thought the only things you were going to miss was the sounds of the waves and the stars?”
“I’ll miss the intimacies we’ve shared here. Not just our bodies, but our minds. Without distractions, we’ve had to talk to one another or else go mad. We’ve told each other all our stories and innermost secrets. You probably know me better than anyone else on the planet now… and I’m sure the same could be said for you with me. I just don’t want to lose that, Ronin. That special intimacy we found here.”
“We won’t lose it,” Ronin replied. “Let’s make a promise to one another right now. At least once a week, we turn off devices, shut out the outside world, and we just cuddle close and talk… just like we do in the evenings now… so we can continue to share that no matter where we are in the world.”
“I’d like that,” Shiloh murmured, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“We can hold on to pieces of the people we were here.” Ronin pressed a kiss to Shiloh’s lips. “We just have to be willing to commit to finding time to be present with one another.”
“Yep,” Shiloh said. He wrapped his arms around Ronin’s waist and hugged tight—which wasn’t as tight as it once was with the belly getting in the way. Shiloh leaned back and looked up at Ronin. “Best tidy up before our ride gets here.”
Ronin grinned. “Absolutely.”
About an hour after they’d spotted the plane, they’d returned the house to as close as they could remember it being. When they were done, Ronin switched off the solar cells and ensured the water line was shut off. Shiloh tore a page from the back of his notebook and scribbled a note for the owners of the home, if there were any, explaining what had happened and thanking them for the shelter they’d provided. Ronin grabbed the pencil and jotted his name and address, as well, in case there were any claims for damages or the use of the property.
“I guess we should go wait on the beach,” Shiloh said, carrying a small basket he’d woven.
Ronin peeked inside and noticed the notebook, several bags of dried fruit, and a small collection of shells. “I thought you had nothing to pack?”
“So, I have a little bit of stuff to pack,” Shiloh said. “Sue me.”
Ronin gathered Shiloh’s hand in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing just above the wedding ring on his mate’s ring finger. He eyed it, noticing two of the vines were splitting from wear. Once they were home, he’d get a real ring to replace it. “Anything else before we go?”
Shiloh glanced around and shrugged. “I can’t take five metric tons of dried fruit with us. We’ll have to leave that for the owners, I guess.”
Ronin lifted one of the large, near-full pillowcases. “We can sit one out for your monkey friends. They’re going to miss you when you’re gone.”
Shiloh opened his mouth, appearing ready to argue—but he closed his mouth, tears coming again. “I’m going to miss those little jerks.”
Ronin swept in and hugged Shiloh tight. “We can try to sneak them in a bag and take them home with us.”
“And break international law? No thanks. We’re escaping one prison of sorts. I don’t want to land in another.” Shiloh smiled warily, tears still glittering. “Plus their mama or papa would miss them too much.” He growled. “Look what you’ve turned me into! A blubbery pile of goo.”
“I turned you into this?”
“You got me pregnant,” Shiloh snapped.
Ronin grinned. “I think that was a joint venture, pet.”
Shiloh muttered something under his breath before Ronin urged him toward the door. After he deposited the bag of fruit near the porch and opened it wide, Ronin took Shiloh’s basket and his mate’s hand and left their home of seven months. They headed for the beach, quiet and solemn. He watched Shiloh, seeing the fear and anxiety build as the seconds passed.
“We’re going to be okay,” Ronin said.
“Of course we are,” Shiloh said. He smiled tremulously at Ronin. “We need to go home, if just for the baby’s sake alone. It’s just… a lot of emotions. And then there’s Sage and Eirin. I’ll finally find out if they made it home safely. We’ve been in a Schoedinger’s Cat kind of moment but we’ll soon open that box. Hopefully the news is good.”
Ronin sat down on the beach, near the surf, and drew his omega into his lap, nuzzling Shiloh’s neck. “It’s going to be good news. The power of positive thinking.”
Shiloh chuckled and rested his head on Ronin’s shoulder.
Less than twenty minutes later, a boat came into view on the horizon and Ronin fought tears. As it neared, Ronin squinted to see what the markings were.
“U.S. Coast Guard? What the hell are they doing out here?”
“American Samoa is close to Fiji. I believe I’ve read that they patrol the Pacific from Japan to California,” Shiloh murmured. “Plus, we have no idea exactly where we landed. We might not be anywhere near Fiji or Samoa for all we know.” He turned his focus on Ronin. “I don’t care who it is as long as they can get us safely home.”
“Agreed.” He clasped one hand in Shiloh’s. “We’re going home, husband.”
“And in the nick of time,” Shiloh said, running a hand over his baby bump.