Chapter 45
“Are we going to talk about what happened at the bar that caused our . . . disagreement?” he asks as we wash off in the river and get dressed. Well, no clothes were removed so it’s more a pulling up and pulling down. My beautiful dress has a rip though.
“Man, when are we going to make love inside a room on a real bed?”
He blinks. “People do that?”
I laugh and smack his arm. “I’d like to try it out more often.”
“I’ll put it on the agenda. Are you avoiding the topic?”
“I didn’t know men were anxious to discuss their feelings.”
He smacks me with his t-shirt. “You are the weirdest woman.”
My fists find my hips and I square off. “You can’t call people weird. It’s offensive. I’ve told you that.”
“And I’ve told you I don’t call people that. Only you.”
“Okay, we can discuss it. But we have something else to do right now.”
A smile breaks across his face. It’s sweet and endearing.
“You’d think I offered you candy,” I mutter.
He shakes out his t-shirt, twigs flying everywhere. Sunlight streams through the trees making leaf shadows dance on his abs.
“Gorgeous much?” I grumble.
“What are you muttering, my little fairy queen?”
I pat down my hair and slide on some lip gloss. “Nothing.”
We stroll hand in hand down the beach. Our feet crunch sand as the wind off the waves ruffles our hair.
“Does it look like another storm is coming?” I ask fearfully, checking the sky.
His hand tightens on mine. “One might. It’s okay, baby. We can stay in. We don’t have to go anywhere. We will make popcorn, watch golf on TV, and make love indoors.”
“Golf! I’d rather brave the weather.”
He smacks a big kiss on my shoulder. “Golf is sexy. Give it a chance. It’s all in the way you swivel your hips.” He grabs my hips and turns them in a sexy side-to-side motion. “Hot, no?”
“You’re the only person I’ve met who equates golf with sex. The ONLY one.”
“Wait until you see me play!”
“You’d probably look sexy throwing darts.”
He flexes his biceps in front my eyes. Imitating a dart-throwing arm. Then grins in my face. “You like?”
I smack his muscles down. “Show off.”
As we approach the resort, he slings an arm over my shoulder. “So, what’s on the agenda? Because as that song goes . . . .” He starts singing aloud the classic by reggae group, Third World. “Now that we’ve found love, what are we gonna do with it.”
I join in because it’s infectious and the lyrics are on point.
Our voices rise out of key happily.
Until we reach the beach bar.
“What is he doing here?” Keston growls.
“What is she doing here?” I snarl at the same time.
Kelley is drinking a coconut water. His unruly hair is held back neatly with a colorful hair band. I swallow my comment about the strong resemblance to Keston when Keston wears his bandanas.
Next to Kelley, Tabitha preens like she’s about to step into a Love is Blind pod, where true love awaits. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her.
“I have something to tell you,” I say nervously to Keston.
“Whatever it is, I’m not leaving your side. Four days was an eternity.”
“You may not like what I’m doing. Or going to do.” My tongue is having a hard time forming the words I need.
“As long as it doesn’t involve him, I’m all in.” He indicates with his chin who “him” is.
I drag Keston off to the side of the bar where no one can see us. Or hopefully hear us.
“Kelley and I are going to look for the pirate treasure,” I blurt.
His face storms up. “Over my dead body. My father died looking for that treasure with him.”
“Who?”
“That man.”
“I didn’t know that last part,” I say softly, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady his shaking body.
“Now you do. I forbid it.”
I step back. “Let’s not fight again, please. You can’t forbid me from doing anything.”
“Fine,” he says heatedly. “I strongly urge . . . no, I beg you not to do it.”
“I think I owe it to Charlotte Campbell and Captain Kipson to find it. They are your ancestors. They were madly in love, Keston. I’m learning a lot from reading their journals.”
I clutch the backpack closer to my body. “It’s the most beautiful love story, but sad and painful, and if I can find the treasure maybe it could help us. Maybe their doomed love was for a reason. To bring wealth to our lives. So we can live together on this island without worry . . . and help Kel . . . and others.”
I hear myself rambling out reasons why it’s okay for me to go in search of his family treasure. Against his wishes. But I strongly feel like this is my destiny.
Keston closes his eyes. “You are my wealth. You are my treasure.” He grips my hands in his tightly. When he opens his eyelids, a dark storm rages in his eyes. Worse than the one I fear from Mother Nature.
“I cannot lose you, CJ.” His voice breaks.
“Then come with us.” I say boldly. “We could use your help.”
“We’re all coming,” says the voice I detest most in the world. Her uppity sing-song tone grates like a fingernail on a chalkboard.
“Grab your stuff, let’s go,” Tabitha orders. “Keston, you need to do this for your family. Kelley needs to finish what he started. And you . . . Carmela Jones.”
I stare at the wicked witch of St. Nicholas. “Yes?”
“We can’t do it without you. Kelley says you figured out a secret that has stumped the Kips and Campbell families for centuries.”