by Rachel Lacey
“Okay. That’s good.” Fiona’s voice grew softer. “Here’s hoping that hotel has room service, because I’m not going to want to leave the bed once we get there.”
Nicole bit back a laugh. She knew Fiona was mostly just trying to lighten the mood, but the chemistry between them was real and potent, and that scared Nicole as much as it thrilled her. She’d known she was bisexual since she was a teenager and had a girlfriend briefly in college, but they hadn’t done much more than kiss, and Nicole had met Brandon soon after. She’d never had sex with a woman. Something told her that was not the case for Fiona.
But if this disastrous year had taught Nicole anything, it was to grab ahold of the unexpected. If she and Fiona survived this ordeal, they deserved to enjoy themselves afterward. Nicole had thought she needed time alone to figure out who she was and what she wanted out of life, but maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe she needed to explore her sexuality as part of the journey, and maybe Fiona was the perfect person to help her.
Something scraped along the underside of the lifeboat with a hollow grinding sound that had every hair on Nicole’s body standing on end.
“We didn’t plan this well,” Fiona said. “If we’re going to get tossed out on our asses, I wish I had my clothes on instead of this ridiculous spacesuit sack.”
Nicole swallowed another laugh. “We’re going to look so stupid when we wash up on that fancy resort’s big sandy beach.”
“Ridiculous,” Fiona agreed, her arm tightening around Nicole’s waist.
“Maybe we should just…take them off…” She gasped as the lifeboat slammed into something with a resounding crunch that rattled her bones. “Oh God.”
“Look at that,” Fiona said, sounding a bit breathless. “This time I didn’t fall on my head like an idiot and almost drown inside the fucking boat.”
She’d almost drowned last night? Nicole didn’t even have time to process that information before the lifeboat lurched again, tipping dangerously to the side. “Shit.”
“Fuck,” Fiona said on the same breath.
They clutched each other in the darkness. The lifeboat seemed to have run aground, but it didn’t feel like any kind of ground they wanted to be on. Waves crashed against them, tipping their boat precariously back and forth with each push and pull of the ocean.
“Where’s the flashlight?” Fiona asked.
“Um. It was up there on the control panel by the compass, but I can’t see it now.”
“Maybe we should try to have a look around, or maybe we should just sit tight until the sun rises. I’m not sure which.”
“Let me see if I can find the flashlight,” Nicole said, because she was closer to the controls. She reached over blindly, her hand grazing the steering wheel. Reluctantly, she unbuckled herself so she could reach farther. If their boat was about to tumble into something awful, she’d rather know about it than sit here in the darkness, waiting blindly to drown.
“Be careful,” Fiona said from behind her.
“Always.” She closed her fingers around the flashlight’s heavy metal base, located the power button with her thumb, and pressed. Light flooded the interior of the lifeboat, illuminating the floor, which was still blissfully dry. No sign of any holes or leaks from the rocks they’d scraped over and were currently lodged on.
Blowing out a breath, she aimed the beam out the window over the steering wheel, squinting against the glare off the plexiglass. “It’s hard to see anything.”
“Land?” Fiona asked.
“Um, I think…I actually think I see a beach, oh my God, I really do!” Her heart leaped at the sight. That pale stuff in the distance sure looked like sand, but why was it so far away?
“Let me see.” Fiona was at her side, the suit sagging around her waist, and Nicole was almost too excited about the prospect of dry land to notice her bare breasts. Almost…
“Look.” She gestured with the flashlight.
“We’re still in the water,” Fiona said, her expression puzzled. “We’re nowhere near the shoreline.”
“What are we stuck on, then?” Nicole asked, trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that said this wasn’t as good as she hoped it might be.
“Rocks?” Fiona suggested. “The reef, perhaps.”
“Maybe.” Flashlight in hand, Nicole made her way to the other end of the boat, hampered by the sleeping bag that forced her to shuffle.
Fiona chuckled behind her. “I think we need to put our clothes back on. Hopefully, they’ve dried out some.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea.” She leaned out the hatch, aiming the flashlight’s beam left and right. Waves crashed around them, breaking over dark shapes that seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions. “A reef, I think. But I’m not sure.”
“Okay. This is not bad news. Let’s get dressed. It must be close to sunrise by now, and once we can see, we’ll work out how to get the boat free or swim for it if we have to.”
Silently, they zipped out of their thermal suits and put on their dresses. Nicole never wanted to wear this stupid dress again. It was cold and damp, clinging to her so that her whole body felt clammy, but it sure beat the thermal suit for mobility, so she’d suck it up.
Fiona’s red dress still looked stunning on her, with its snug, low-cut bodice and full, pleated skirt. God, how did she look so beautiful after twenty-four hours in a lifeboat? Her blonde hair was a mess, but the kind of mess that made Nicole want to bury her hands in it and draw her in for a never-ending kiss.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Fiona said. “We aren’t on dry land yet.”
“Sorry.” She clicked off the flashlight, plunging them into darkness. “But it’s seriously not fair for you to look that gorgeous.”
“Stop,” Fiona muttered, but there was laughter in her tone.
Nicole looked out the open hatch. “The sky’s getting lighter over there. It must be almost morning.”
“Good. We’ll be on shore before you know it.”
“I sure hope so.” Nicole stared into the swirling darkness. She very much did not want to get tossed on those rocks, or coral, or whatever it was. They’d be a bloody mess in no time, and she wasn’t at all confident a shiny resort waited just up the beach. She and Fiona sat together by the hatch, hands clasped as they watched the sun rise over the ocean.
“It’s beautiful,” Fiona murmured.
“It really is.”
“Oh.” Fiona straightened, leaning forward. “I just saw a dolphin jump.”
“No way, really?”
Fiona nodded. “That must be a sign of good luck, right?”
“Must,” Nicole agreed, but the lifeboat tipped more precariously with each wave that crashed against it, swaying this way and that until finally, by unspoken mutual agreement, they got back into the seats and harnessed themselves in.
The lifeboat rolled almost horizontal against the reef, and Nicole’s stomach rolled with it. She yelped, bracing herself for whatever came next. Fiona’s fingers tightened around hers. And then, with a groaning crunch, the boat slid free.
“Holy shit,” Nicole breathed.
“Time to dig out those paddles.” A smile broke across Fiona’s face, even brighter than the sun glistening on the horizon. “Our beach resort awaits.”
5
Fiona dug her paddle into the surf, driving them toward shore while Nicole did the same on the other side of the boat. Each wave brought them closer to the sandy beach ahead, before sucking them right back out, and goddammit, she was tired. She would have suggested they ditch the lifeboat and swim for it, but the more she looked at the land ahead, the more she felt they’d landed somewhere uninhabited and might need the supplies onboard the boat—not to mention the boat itself—to survive.
She gritted her teeth against the pull of the surf, digging her paddle into the water. Another big wave lifted them forward, and she did it all again. Finally, arms trembling with fatigue, she felt the belly of the boat scrape sand.
Nicole dropped down beside her, tears on her cheeks. “We did it. We really did it.”
“We did.” She looked over at Nicole, and then they were in each other’s arms, laughing and kissing. She cupped Nicole’s face in her hands, smoothing her thumbs over her cheeks as she brought their mouths together. Nicole tasted like salt. Hell, every bit of them tasted like salt at this point, but right now, it was the best thing Fiona had ever tasted. It was the flavor of success, of victory, of life.
“I don’t see our hotel,” Nicole murmured against her lips.
“Fuck the hotel.” Fiona wasn’t ready to think about their new reality yet. For this moment, she just wanted to revel in their relative safety and the freedom to kiss this beautiful woman who was currently occupying every free ounce of her brainpower.
“I think—”
She swallowed Nicole’s protest with another kiss. “Don’t think. Not yet. Just take one minute with me here to enjoy this.”
And that did the trick. Nicole’s tongue swept into her mouth, and then they were kissing for real, the kind of kiss that flooded Fiona’s whole body with warmth and need, that sent her pulse whirling and left her gasping for air. Nicole’s hands slid up her back, anchoring them together as the ocean pushed and pulled around them, knocking them into each other until they went down in a tangled heap of limbs and laughter.
Nicole sat up, spitting out a mouthful of ocean water and sand. “Kissing on the beach sounds so much more glamorous than it is.”
“We’re not exactly in top form.” Fiona’s head was spinning, and not just from the kiss. She was physically exhausted, sleep-deprived, starving, and probably a bit dehydrated. Not to mention, every inch of her body seemed to throb with pain. A red rivulet ran down her leg, and she adjusted her skirt to hide it. She’d probably knocked off all the adhesive bandages by crawling on her hands and knees in the sand. That hadn’t been smart, but she’d completely forgotten about her injury in the heat of the moment.
“What now?” Nicole asked, turning to take in their surroundings.
White sand curved around them in a sort of inlet, giving way to grass and scrub that eventually turned into rock-strewn hills. To their right, a stone outcrop rose high overhead. It was gorgeous. Stunning. And desolate.
“I don’t know,” Fiona answered honestly. “I don’t know if we’re on a deserted island or just a stretch of the mainland no one’s built on yet. Our resort might be right over that hill. Or…it might not.”
“I don’t think it is,” Nicole said quietly, drawing her knees up under her chin.
“I don’t either.”
They sat for a moment in silence, just staring at each other. The surf swirled around them, and Fiona wished desperately that she were dry, that she didn’t have sand all over her body or blood streaming down her leg or the beginnings of a pounding headache.
“I think we should try to climb that rock,” Nicole said finally. “Because civilization really might be on the other side. If it’s not, we need to see if we can find shelter, because I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend another moment on that boat. I’ll bring my phone up there too and try to get a signal.”
“I like your plan,” Fiona said, immensely relieved to have one. “I just need to make a quick wardrobe adjustment before we go rock climbing.”
“A wardrobe adjustment?” Nicole raised her eyebrows.
“I’ll be right back.” She got to her feet and climbed inside the lifeboat. There, she stripped out of her dress before poking through the supply chest until she found the fishing knife. The damn dress was heavy as stones when it was wet. It clung to her legs like a shroud when she walked, and besides, all that extra fabric could come in handy in other ways.
Knife in hand, she hacked away the majority of the skirt, leaving herself enough fabric to reach mid-thigh. She leaned out and rinsed it in the surf to get out as much sand as possible before putting it back on. Then, looking down at the open gash below her knee, she cut a strip from the folds of the skirt and wrapped it around her leg, knotting it in the back. Satisfied, she cut several more lengths of fabric to tie around their feet—because neither of their high-heeled shoes were suitable for hiking of any kind.
Nicole’s jaw fell open when Fiona climbed out of the lifeboat. “Well, that’s short…sexy…um…”
“Practical for hiking?” Fiona offered.
“Yeah, that’s totally what I was thinking too,” Nicole said with a grin, her gaze dropping to Fiona’s exposed legs. “Shit, your leg.”
“You can play doctor again later, if we don’t find civilization over the hill. Deal?”
Nicole nodded. “What’s the other fabric for?”
“Our feet.”
“Oh.” She followed Fiona up the beach, where they sat side by side on a large rock.
“This looks like Greece to me,” Fiona said as she began wrapping lengths of fabric around her feet. “There are dozens of small, uninhabited islands like this one.”
“We don’t know yet that it’s uninhabited,” Nicole reminded her.
“Right.” But her gut told her they weren’t going to find civilization over the hill, and Nicole knew it as well as she did. “But even if it is, we’re not far from the mainland. Fishermen visit these islands all the time. Someone will come by soon and find us. Or maybe we can see something from the top of that rock that will lead us in the right direction.”
Nicole backtracked to the boat to get her phone.
“Give it here,” Fiona said. “I have pockets.”
Nicole’s gaze dropped to Fiona’s hips. “That really is the perfect dress…but it’s soaking wet. I’ll carry my phone.”
They clasped hands as they made their way over the scrubby terrain toward the outcropping of rocks. It was hard enough to climb in wet dresses and scraps of fabric wrapped around their feet without also being exhausted and weak from their ordeal at sea. But the change of scenery seemed to have given them both a boost of adrenaline.
They scrambled and climbed until they’d reached the top of the overlook, from which they had a panoramic view of their surroundings. The Mediterranean spread before them in all its turquoise beauty, crashing impressively against the reef they’d been stuck on during the night. Beyond that, Fiona saw nothing but endless sea.
Turning, she surveyed whatever the fuck they’d landed on. The mainland? An island? She still wasn’t sure. If it was an island, it was too big to see the far side of it, but the coast curved sharply enough in both directions to make her think it might meet on the other side if she could only see over the rocky, scrubby hills before her.
“No hotel,” Nicole said quietly. She sat abruptly on the rock beneath them as if all the wind had just gone out of her sails.
Fiona knew the feeling. She desperately wanted a hot bath and a soft bed…preferably with Nicole in it. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on the possibility of a hotel until it wasn’t there.
Nicole powered on her phone, and they watched as it searched in vain for a signal before abruptly shutting off. “Battery’s dead,” Nicole mumbled.
“It’s okay. We’ll find that hotel on our own.”
“Will we, though?” There was something wild in Nicole’s eyes Fiona hadn’t seen there before. “What if we’re just two people who disappear at sea and are never heard from again? You know those people must think they’re going to get rescued too…right until the end.”
“Those people are in much more remote places. We’re somewhere off the coast of Europe, not way out in the middle of the ocean.” The moment clearly called for a pep talk, but they weren’t exactly Fiona’s forte. It was no accident that she lived alone, worked alone, spent the majority of her lif
e alone.
She thrived in solitude, hated placating other people’s emotional needs. And yet, as she stared into Nicole’s terror-filled eyes, she found herself reaching deep for the words Nicole needed to hear. “Someone will find us. I really do think so. And if they don’t, we’ll save ourselves. We’ve got a boat filled with supplies, and that’s a lot more than most castaways have.”
She did believe that, but they still might be stranded for days…weeks…longer. The truth was, only years of meditation practice were keeping Fiona’s breathing in check right now. Her heart raced, and her skin prickled uncomfortably. She wanted to go home. She needed her rituals and routines and the sense of control they gave her.
Beside her, Nicole sucked in a lungful of air and blew it out with a decisive nod. “You’re right. Someone will find us. Let’s go build an SOS on the beach to help them out.”
At least Fiona’s bullshit pep talk had worked for one of them.
NICOLE WATCHED the sun set in a daze. She and Fiona had spent the day exploring the area around their little harbor. They’d found some berries they’d been too afraid to eat, built an SOS on the beach, and found a smooth, flat spot on the rock where they’d brought two thermal suits to camp out overnight. Nicole would rather have had a shelter to sleep in, but Fiona had convinced her there were no predators on the island that would eat them while they slept. Indeed, they’d seen nothing all day but seabirds and one small lizard. And so they sat, watching the sun slide beneath the horizon as they ate lifeboat food rations and drank stale, metallic-tinged water.
“Tomorrow, we’ll use that fishing tackle in the lifeboat and go fishing,” she said.
Fiona made a sound of agreement, her eyes locked on the horizon. She’d been quiet for the last few hours, almost introspective. Nicole couldn’t shake the feeling that she wanted to be left alone, wanted to retreat to her real life, whatever that was like. Did she have a studio in her house where she painted all day?
Nicole visualized it with a smile. But Fiona had said she mostly worked in graphic design. She could picture that too. Fiona seated at her computer, hair tied back and perhaps glasses perched on her nose, creating fancy graphics that Nicole herself might use as she branded a new investment portfolio.