Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
TRISTAN
It’s just past two in the afternoon, and after a stop in Dar es Salaam, on the coast of Tanzania, we’re finally stepping out of the airplane at Pemba Island’s tiny airport.
A trickle of sweat ambles down my temple—this heat is next level—as I look at Lexi.
She’s showing the signs of two days’ nonstop travel: dark circles under her eyes, clothes a sticky, creased mess, and an itch of irritation as she breathes in the heat.
Yep. Traveling in jeans to the tropics is never a good idea.
“Here.” I reach for her hand and offer an encouraging squeeze.
She wants to pull free, but first impressions and all that.
Best not fail off the bat at this fake-engagement business.
“That’s us.” I hold on tighter and tug her toward the man holding a board with our names on it.
He’s dressed in a white cotton shirt and stone-colored shorts and smiles widely as I make eye contact.
“This is it.” I let go of her hand so we can both steer the carts with our luggage. “You good there?” I ask.
She audibly swallows. “Oh God. I think I’m going to expire.”
The closer we come to our final destination, the more tense Lexi grows.
During the overnight flight she was fidgety as all hell, and neither of us got proper shut-eye.
At one point I threatened to squeeze into her chair and wrap myself around her like a straitjacket.
That froze her for a second, and then she exhaled a long, hard sigh.
She finally relaxed enough to fall asleep.
The idea of faking an engagement was one thing, putting our ruse into action is stressing her even more.
“Relax,” I mutter under my breath. “Nobody here knows you from a bar of soap.”
“Can I remind you that my career is on the line, and you have a crazy deadline?” she huffs.
“Yes, but Nathan Beaumont isn’t meeting us off this plane, so we’re good.” I hold my hand out and look our African meet-and-greet straight in the eye. “Hi, Tristan Martinelli. My fiancée, Lexi O’Reilly.”
“Welcome! I’m Mike Shabani, your captain. Welcome to Beaumont Hotels.” Mike pumps my hand and then his gaze jumps to Lexi’s face before settling on her hand with the ring on her finger. “Lexi. Short for Alexandra? Welcome!”
“Hi,” Lexi says with a smile, finally deflating. “I look forward to working with you.”
“Yes! Me too!” Mike’s enthusiasm seems entirely honest and sincere, and he’s all smiles. “Let me help you with that.” He takes hold of Lexi’s luggage cart, which is stacked with my things. “You don’t travel light, huh?” He laughs.
I chuckle. “I’m the guilty one, not Lexi. Those crates are full of diving equipment.”
“Ah, good. Good. Very good.” Mike nods toward the exit. “Just a short ride to the port and then the last stretch by boat.”
Soon we’re making our way from the small airport through a rural landscape. Eventually we pass a scatter of dwellings packed tighter and tighter as we head into the small port town.
Mike points out a few things along the way, but both he and the driver seem to be equally happy to drive in silence.
They must be used to people arriving exhausted and ready for the ultimate beach vacation.
The minibus’s air conditioning is on, and as the minutes pass, Lexi seems to perk up like a wilted flower finally getting a drink of water.
“Eeek! This is so exciting.” She leans closer to me. “It’s so different from everything I’m used to.”
“We’re very far from New York now, babes.”
“Babes?” she murmurs, and I get an elbow in the ribs. I suppress an oof with a smile.
“Yes, babes.”
She’s grinning, and not for the first time, I want to squeeze some part of her, even just her arm.
Putting that ring on her finger yesterday at the airport got my wires all twisted up.
If I’m honest, though, there’ve been parts of me short-circuiting for a few weeks now.
Actually, since the moment she barged in on me in that sex-goddess cami set.
Fuck. What if she’s packed that little number?
We’ve circled around without getting into the logistics here for weeks now.
Lexi hasn’t done this type of gig before, and I bet she’s as clueless as I am about what to expect.
Google Earth didn’t share any secrets when I studied the island in detail.
All you can see from the air are glimpses of grey rooftops through densely packed tropical foliage.
There’s no deciphering where guests stay and where staff stay, but I can only assume that Lexi and I will share staff accommodations.
She hasn’t brought it up, and I’m not too worried.
I’m used to boat life. Small spaces. Narrow beds.
I can manage. Hopefully it’s just spacious enough that we can keep out of each other’s hair.
Not that I want out of her hair. Lately my fingers want to burrow into those blond waves and tilt her head to the side so I can tease my lips over that spot where her pulse gives every emotion away. With her ready blush, I can read Lexi like a book.
Right now, she’s nervously excited and obviously not thinking about where we’re going to sleep tonight.
I can’t think of anything else—not since I slipped that ring on her finger and felt her hand quivering in mine.
For a guy who’s sworn off the whole marriage farce, this reaction is weird and unwanted.
Who knew putting a ring on a woman’s finger would awaken some caveman beast with a Flintstone-style club in me?
And that’s not the only hard piece of wood I’m worried about.
At the end of the day, I’m a man. A man who’s been wondering for five years what if—
“Here we are,” says Mike as we reach the small marina.
A young man in Beaumont uniform is waiting for us at a Beaumont-branded bowrider.
“My sidekick,” Mike says. “Roger Magombo.”
I smile as we all shake hands. “As in ‘Roger, Captain?’”
Roger shrugs. Either he doesn’t get my joke or doesn’t care for it.
“Excellent,” Mike says, not looking me in the eye. “Let’s get going. This isn’t the best of places to stand around idle.”
I glance around and catch his meaning. Too many dudes loitering around on corners, watching. Waiting.
The men quickly load our luggage as I help Lexi onto the boat. I squeeze her hand. “You’re good?”
“Just nervous…and hot.” Her clammy hair clings to her face and droplets of sweat rest on her upper lip.
“There’ll be a breeze on the water,” I say, wanting to pull free, but she clings to my hand. “Once we’re at the island, you’ll see that everything’s going to be fine. Stop stressing.”
“Yeah…” Her voice is quaking now. “It isn’t that.”
I read her face, and the look in her eyes hits me in the chest. “I’m here, Lexi. I’m not leaving.”
“I know.” She takes in a shaky breath, turning into me. “It’s funny how a bit of water can bring back a swath of abandonment issues.”
“It’s not exactly a bit of water,” I tease gently. Neither was Hurricane Katrina.
“I didn’t even think about this part… God. This is how much Mia Reed and this situation have messed with my head.”
“Well, if it gets you to the other side without freaking out, keep on thinking about Mia Reed and don’t peep a word about our situation.” The last thing I need is Lexi blurting out point blank that we are faking our engagement.
She nods, but her eyes glaze over.
We both hold on as Mike ups the speed of the bowrider, hitting the waves. Roger still hasn’t cracked a smile, just stares at us as if we’re aliens.
“Is this the only way to get to the island?” Lexi asks Mike once we’re hitting bigger waves.
“Ah, no.” He shakes his head. “Guests fly in with the floatplane because it’s quicker. Staff we bring in with the boat because we know you have too much stuff.”
“Nice.” I glance at Lexi. She had a red heat glow on her face minutes ago, but she’s now gone pale. I rub her back in slow circles as she leans in to me.
“I remember that floatplane bit now. It was in the training.” She shakes her head, and the wind whips through her hair. “It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind.”
“We’ll catch on quickly once we’re on the job.”
“Yes. But I suspect this isn’t going to be a soft landing.”
We turn quiet, too tired to talk over the loud hum of the boat’s engine. We pass the Tanzanian coastguard, and they wave at us. We wave back, our smaller boat rocking in their wake.
Fifty minutes later, we’re still at the railing, Lexi green around the gills. I’m grateful that the island is finally on the horizon. “Next time, you need to take something for the nausea before we head out.”
“Next time I’m taking the plane,” she mutters under her breath. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”
We weren’t thinking, babes.
Mike slows the boat, and I stand at the rail to look into the water.
It’s deep here and a dark azure blue, but crystal clear.
I lean over, sinking my gaze into the abyss.
Right there. A school of fish with the sunlight blinking on their silver skins.
The visibility here is going to be phenomenal, and I can’t wait to get my gear on and go for a dive.
Soon corals come into view in the ever-shallower water, dark flecks on the ocean floor that stretch like black tiger stripes over the white sand.
I look up, wanting to gauge how close we are.
Still at least two hundred yards to go before the island, but here I can see the bottom of the ocean, and that must be at least a hundred feet down.
I’m starting to feel like a kid in a candy store.
I haven’t been in the sea since arriving at Evan’s house in December, and I’m having withdrawal.
Lexi comes to stand next to me. “Oh my God.”
“Finally going to feed the fishes, are you?”
“This close,” she murmurs, holding her thumb and forefinger half an inch apart.
“Just look at them.” I nod toward the water. “There are so many, not a bit of vomit would be wasted.”
“Eww, Tristan, that hardly helps.” She groans. “What are you staring at?”