Chapter 12
Twelve
Reef
The last call from Quincy had been cut off by static, and now the radio is dead.
“Come on, come on,” I mutter to myself, scanning the horizon that isn’t there.
All the race participants are accounted for, some having taken shelter in some of the many coves along the shoreline and others having made it back to the marina.
Boat number 32, Susan and I found shortly after separating from Quincy; they boarded the speedboat, and we assured them we’d help them find their vessel when the storm had passed.
Once they were all safely on land, I immediately went back out to look for Quincy, kicking myself for letting her try to do a search and rescue on her own.
A flash of lightning illuminates the churning water, and I can see into the distance. No skiff. No sailboat. No Quincy.
My heart slams against my ribs.
“I can’t lose her,” I say to no one, my voice breaking. I need her safe.
The speedboat jolts as the hull scrapes the edge of the sandbar. I kill the engine and leap into the shallows, waves splashing and water blinding me. “Quincy!” I bellow.
I shout and trudge until I hear a faint answer.
Relief and terror consume me as I shout until my throat is raw.
Then I see the overturned skiff held aloft by Quincy, who seems to be sitting in a hollow in the sand.
“Quincy!”
“Reef!”
Rain drums against the bottom of the skiff and she almost loses her shelter when a gust of wind hits.
I grab her outstretched arm, but she pulls back. I stare at her, dumbfounded. “Come on, I’m getting you out of here!”
She shakes her head. “It’s too dangerous. Get in here with me!”
Praying that beaching the speedboat would be enough to keep it secure until the storm passes, I climb into the little hovel with Quincy.
Rain drums relentlessly against the fiberglass above us, water cascading down from the edges to the sand.
We’re both soaked through, and there’s barely enough room for the two of us under here.
But we’re together, and she’s safe.
In the narrow space, my arm wraps tight around her, anchoring her close to me.
“Are you hurt?”
My hand skims over her arms and sides, checking for anything broken.
Quincy shakes her head. “No. You?”
“I’m fine.”
“Why are you shaking like that?”
I pull her closer, my chin brushing her wet hair. “I was so worried about you. Don’t you ever fucking pull that again. When we’re on the water, you do what I say.”
After a long pause, she says, “You really were worried about me.”
“Terrified.”
“Reef, I’m sorry…”
“Shh.” I press my lips hard against her cheekbone, like I’m making sure she’s really here, really safe. “You don’t have to apologize. You’re too fucking brave for your own good. After this, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m gonna be real clingy for a long while.”
She looks back at me. “Clingy how?”
“Me and you. Together. Okay?”
She smiles at me over her shoulder, understanding my half-assed caveman talk. “But won’t that be frowned upon? You are still my boss.”
“Only for four more weeks. You think I give a shit what the others have to say about it?”
“Susan will be happy,” she says, shrugging.
“She will?”
“Yeah. She says if you’re getting laid regularly, it’ll put you in a better mood and keep you off her ass.”
It’s then that I notice, finally, the rain has stopped, and the wind has calmed to a stiff breeze.
Thunder rumbles in the distance as we climb out of our little hovel and turn the skiff right side up together.
“This was smart. Incredibly reckless, but also, smart way to take shelter in the worst circumstances,” I admit as I tether the two vessels together.
When I rise up to full height, Quincy’s there, smiling at me, looking like a rain-soaked shipwreck survivor. “Kiss me.”
I take her face in my hands and press my mouth to hers. I shiver at her closeness as I’m once again reminded how close I came to losing her. What if she’d drowned? What if…
I can’t handle these thoughts. I deepen the kiss, licking my tongue into her mouth. Quincy lets out a small moan as she fists the front of my soaked T-shirt. She is warm and safe. Alive. And all mine.