9. Paige
I wake up to the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, the sun casting a warm golden glow over the deserted beach. Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I take in the sight before me—the pristine sands and crystal-clear waters that stretch out as far as the eye can see. But as I look around, I realize that this island is far from the tropical paradise I had imagined.
I glance to my side and see Travis sprawled out naked on the sand. I’m naked as well. Last night, well, I can’t even explain what came over me. I carefully collect my clothes and dress while checking out the man that had rocked my world in the middle of the night. His body was fine, lean, and muscular at the same time.
My eyes drop lower, smiling at the part of him that had given me plenty of pleasure in the middle of the night when I woke up with what I thought was a nightmare. Turns out, it wasn’t a nightmare. It was my reality. I step away from him, finding a way a little away from him to take a minute for myself in the bushes.
I make my way down to the water”s edge, the sand cool beneath my bare feet. The jet has been pulled away from where it initially landed, but I can still see the tail jutting out from the sand, a stark reminder of the chaos that brought us to this desolate place. I close my eyes and the whole episode flashes through my mind. I remember every second from the moment he shouted at me to sit down to the second I woke with cold water washing over me.
I stare at the horizon, praying I’ll see a boat headed our way. Unfortunately, all I see is water. There’s not a boat on the water or a plane in the sky. Despair washes over me. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to disappear. How long will they look for me before they hold my funeral?
Will Travis be the last person I ever talk to? That’s such a strange feeling. I don’t even know him. I don’t know his last name. I know nothing about him except he’s good in bed. I have never done anything that reckless in my entire life. Last night, I needed him. I needed to be reminded I was alive. I’ve spent my entire life being strong and brave. It felt so good to just give in to my basic instincts. I didn’t regret having sex with him. In fact, I might offer myself to him again. It doesn’t look like we’re going to be rescued in the next five minutes. I don’t have work to do. I don’t have anything to do or anywhere to go. It’s a strange and scary feeling. My entire life has been scheduled to the very last minute.
Travis joins me on the beach, handing me a bag of peanuts from our meager food stash along with a bottle of water. I take them gratefully, the first pang of hunger gnawing at my stomach.
“The protein will be good for you,” he says. “Try not to drink too much water. We’ve got three more bottles in the bag.”
”Do you think we”ll get rescued today?” I ask, my voice tinged with hope.
He nods, a hint of confidence in his expression. ”We should,” he replies, his tone reassuring. ”But we”ll have to wait and see.”
I glance around, taking in the vast expanse of sand and sea stretching out before us. ”Shouldn”t we make some kind of signal fire or something?” I suggest, my voice uncertain. ”To alert any passing planes?”
Travis shakes his head, his expression grave. ”The beach will be underwater in a few hours,” he explains. ”We”ll have to think of something else. I have the flare gun. At least, I hope I do. I haven’t checked.”
I turn and look at him. There should be awkwardness between us, but I don’t feel it. A near-death experience has a way of erasing any kind of formality. “How’s your head?” I ask and reach up to touch the cut.
“Hard,” he smiles. “It’s fine.”
“I think you’re going to have a scar.”
The moment I say the words, I realize how ridiculous that is. He would be lucky to live long enough to get a scar.
“As long as I can still wear a bikini,” he teases.
I can’t help but smile. It feels strange to smile when I’m staring death in the face. “Sweetie, you could wear a bikini with twenty scars on your face. Trust me, that’s not what anyone is going to be looking at.”
He smiles again, that little dimple sends a shiver of desire down my spine. “I’ll keep that in mind when everyone is staring.”
We fall into conversation as we walk along the shoreline. He collects a pair of underwear and a shirt that had washed up on shore in the night.
“So, crashing planes, is this something you do often?” I ask lightheartedly.
“Nope, first time. I don’t think I want to do it again.”
“How long have you been flying?” I ask.
“I think the old folks would say since I was knee-high to a grasshopper,” he said with a small laugh. “My dad was a pilot. He did crop-dusting and, in the winter, he would go up to Alaska to run charters for hunters and trappers. He had a little Cessna, that he took me up all the time. Don’t tell my mom, but he used to let me take over the controls now and then. When I was sixteen, I started taking official flying lessons. I got my license, and the rest is history.”
“How long have you worked for the charter company?”
“A couple of years,” he answers, his tone shifting. “It’s my company.”
“What?” I gasp in shock.
“You don’t think a dude like me can own a charter company?”
“No, I mean, yes, but, well, you don’t strike me as someone that would own a jet like that,” I tell him.
“I don’t technically own the jet. I have a silent partner you could say. He’s going to be pissed when he finds out I crashed his fancy jet.”
“I’m sure you’re insured.”
“I am,” he nods. “But still, that’s going to be a headache to sort through. My license is going to be suspended while they figure out what happened. I’m going to be scrutinized. The maintenance logs are going to be gone over with a fine-tooth comb.”
I’m quiet, processing what it all means. “Assuming we get off this island,” I say quietly.
“I guess that’s the bright side,” he shrugs. “I’m not going to face an inquisition if I don’t make it off this rock.”
“That’s dark,” I reply.
”And what about you?” he asks, turning the question back on me. ”Who are you? You must be somebody to get to ride on my jet—alone. I happen to know we’re not cheap.”
I hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal. But in the end, I decide to be honest. ”I”m a lawyer,” I admit, my voice tinged with resignation. ”I was on my way to Hawaii for a case. It was a last-minute thing.”
He nods, a hint of understanding in his eyes. ”Must be important,” he remarks, his tone neutral.
I shrug, trying to brush off the weight of responsibility that hangs heavy on my shoulders. ”It is what it is,” I reply, my voice flat. The whistleblower is going to assume I blew him off.
“Do you work for a bi rim?”
“I do,” I nod.
“Then they’ll be looking for you,” he says.
I don’t know if they will. “I hope so.”
He wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his body. “We’ll be fine. We’re going to be okay. We’ll ration the water. And look over there.”
“What?” I ask, hoping to see a plane or boat.
“Clouds. It’s going to rain. We’ll have to fashion something to catch the rainwater.”
“You’re serious?” I ask in disbelief.
“We’re going to get awful thirsty.”
“But we don’t have anything.”
He holds up his briefs and flashes me a grin. “Sure, we do.”
“I have no idea what you want me to do with those.”
“I’ve watched plenty of survival shows. We’ll strip, put our clothes out to get soaked and then wring out the water into our mouths.”
I stare up at him, aghast at the very suggestion. “You want me to drink your underwear!”
He bursts into laughter. “You could drink from your panties, but they’re tiny. You’re not going to catch a lot of water with that tiny bit of lace.”
I feel myself blushing, but he’s right. This is what my life has been reduced to. I’m debating between drinking water wrung from his underwear or my panties.
This cannot be happening.
“Can you tell me what happened with the plane?” I ask. “One minute we’re flying through the sky with no turbulence and the next we’re crashing into the ocean. Did we hit a flock of birds? I’ve heard that’s a thing.”
He shakes his head. “No. I honestly don’t know what happened. We have meticulous maintenance and clean checklists. I personally checked everything last week. I’ve been replaying it, and I just don’t know. I can only assume we had some kind of electrical problem that fried everything.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Never.”
“I guess I’m lucky,” I sigh.
”Maybe you have enemies,” he jokes, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
I don”t find it funny. ”This is serious, Travis,” I snap, my frustration bubbling to the surface. ”We could have died. You are taking this way too lightly. I am going to want to see all those maintenance reports when we get back.”
“Gonna sue me?” he jokes.
“I just might. This is not the least bit amusing. Do you know what I just lost? The meeting I was headed to was important. Not to mention my clothing and shoes.”
“Sue me,” he says. “I have insurance.”
“I have flown thousands and thousands of miles, and the biggest problem has been a little turbulence and lost luggage. You could have killed me!”
“Shut up,” he growls, his voice low and commanding.
I open my mouth to protest but he grabs my shoulders and slams his mouth over mine. My accusations die on my lips as his tongue plunges into my mouth, down my throat.
His kiss is fierce and urgent, silencing any words I might have spoken. I fall into it, my anger and frustration dissolving as his lips devour mine. As our lips part, I can feel his chest heaving, his breath ragged.
”I”m sorry,” he whispers, his voice laced with genuine remorse. ”I”m not used to being in situations like this.”
”Me either,” I murmur, still reeling from his kiss.
He kisses me again. The world spins around me, and the next thing I know, I”m lying on my back in the sand, my heart pounding in my chest with Travis’s body pushes mine into the sand. I look into Travis’s dark eyes. The uncertainty of our situation melts away into something else entirely as he drops a kiss to my forehead. I realize that, just maybe, being stranded on this deserted island won”t be so bad after all.
Travis stares at me for a moment, a glint in his eye, and then he smiles. “The next time I crash a plane, I am going to make sure it’s with a hot chick.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He chuckles, the sound low in his throat before he kisses me again. I give into the pleasure, choosing to dwell on that rather than the despair that hovers on the perimeter of my mind.