He nodded. "She says she just needs a day lying around and getting lots of rest."
I didn't want to miss snuba, but... "Would she like me to stay with her?"
He smiled at me. "She said, 'If Melissa offers to skip the excursion and hang out with me, tell her that's sweet but no way.' She's fine, honestly. I'll be there if she needs anything. And I know she really wants you two to go and have fun."
"Well, tell her we hope she feels better," Nicholas said, and I nodded.
"I will. And you can tell us all about the trip later, okay?"
We agreed. Mark smiled, looking more relaxed, and said, "Well, I'd better get back. Have a great day, guys."
When he'd gone, Nicholas said, "So. I guess it's just us."
"I guess so."
"Are you okay with that?"
I looked up at him, at the warmth in his eyes and the touch of nervousness in his expression, and I couldn't hold back a smile. "Oh, I think so." Then, worried, I said, "But are you?"
He smiled. "Definitely."
*****
Our planned group outing had become something that could be considered a date, and that made me feel shy for the first few minutes we spent together on the gorgeous Bahamian island. Nicholas seemed to feel the same way, his words sounding stilted and his eyes barely meeting mine.
I didn't have to spend too long worrying that we'd have an uncomfortable day, though, because once we dropped onto the hot white sand to listen to our instructor's explanation of snuba Nicholas laid his hand on my shoulder. I turned to him, and he mouthed, "Shhh!" at me. I laughed, he laughed too, and the tension between us vanished like a drop of water tossed into the beautiful aquamarine waves of the ocean.
"You have an air tank, but it's above you on one of these," the instructor said, pointing to a rubber raft. "You drag it along with you. Don't worry, though, it's not heavy. You can go down as far as twenty feet and you never have to come up to breathe. Let's get our fins on and head out there for a quick lesson."
Nicholas and I quacked quietly to each other as everyone in the group duck-walked awkwardly, our feet pointed out to the sides so we didn't step on our own flippers, down to the shore of our sheltered lagoon, where the woman and two assistants passed out the rubber rafts with their attached air tanks. "Wipe down your breather with an alcohol swab, then wade out to your shoulders and practice breathing," she said.
Nicholas and I did as instructed, and when we were at the perfect height for me, which was a bit too shallow for him, he said, "Ready?"
"I think so," I said. "It's just so hard to make myself breathe underwater. Even though I know I can, it's... weird. Unnatural."
He laughed. "True. Don't think, just let it happen."
He put his breather in his mouth and raised his eyebrows at me.
I wrapped my mouth around my breather, the mingled flavors of rubber and a hint of alcohol swab strangely tolerable, and we both dropped beneath the water's surface at once.
We squatted there, about a foot down. Without a mask on I couldn't see his face clearly, but I could see enough to know he was looking at me. He raised and lowered one hand, setting a slow steady breathing pace. I watched his movement and breathed in time with it, and in only a few breaths I began to feel relaxed and calm.
He stood up, and I did the same. Once we'd removed our breathers, he said, "How was that?"
"Great," I said, grinning at him in delight. "It felt comfortable so much faster than usual."
"You're getting good at it, all the snorkeling you've done on the trip. You'll be an expert in no time."
We went back to the shore at the instructor's command, and were each fitted with a mask and weights to help us stay below the surface. Then we were off.
Nicholas and I, like the other times, stayed a little away from the crowd as he guided me to the best sights. Swimming beneath the surface, never needing to come up to breathe and never feeling like I was sinking or rising to the top, was amazing, and so were the fish and marine life we saw in the pristine water.
After we'd been out a while, Nicholas pointed off to the side and began to turn himself to head in that direction, but as he did I spotted a huge red starfish on a rock. Since it was the first one we'd seen, I reached out and caught Nicholas's hand to pull him back.
We hovered over the starfish for what had to be several minutes, watching it slide over the rock like it was on a conveyor belt.
Eventually, the starfish disappeared down the side of the rock, and Nicholas and I turned to face each other. It was hard to smile with breathers in our mouths, but we managed it, then we swam off together in the direction he'd been suggesting before.
Still holding hands.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When we'd reluctantly turned in our snuba gear, we had lunch at a crowded little café where we could barely hear each other speak. The food was great but we rushed through it because of the noise. Once we were outside again, Nicholas said, "Well, that was louder than I remembered. Want to listen to the ocean for a bit to clear our heads?"
I agreed, and he led me down the beach to a more secluded spot where we could slather ourselves with sunscreen then sit and read and relax.
The waves crashing on the shore made a soothing background, but I didn't need that to make me feel comfortable with Nicholas.
He tipped his face up to the sun. "Gorgeous day."
"Mmm-hmm." Warm enough even for me.
We didn't speak for a minute or so, but I felt that he was thinking about something and I hoped he wasn't going to bring up our hand-holding. It hadn't been a big deal; the initial contact had been purely my excitement at seeing the starfish and after that we simply hadn't let go right away. We had, though, the next time he saw something to point out. Nothing worthy of discussion.
He cleared his throat, and my heart jumped.
"I finished your book last night."
My heart leaped even higher. "You did?"
"Well, as much as there is, anyhow." He smiled at me. "You're awful, ending it right there. I couldn't sleep wondering what would happen next. I assume they'll find some way to defeat the smoky monster? Not much of a happy ending if they don't."
I laughed and said, "True," but couldn't stop myself adding, "Did you like it?"
He studied me a moment, and I saw only sincerity in his eyes when he said, "I loved it."
I grinned, relief and happiness dancing through me. "I'm so glad. And yeah, they do need to beat the monster. How do you think it'll happen?"
He considered. "My first thought was that they could sneak away somehow."
The day dimmed a fraction for me. Of course that had been his first thought. Run away, hide, don't make waves.
"But that would leave the rest of the town to deal with the monster, and they're the only ones who suspect it's a genetic engineering experiment gone wrong. I think they'd feel terrible if they deserted the others. Running away doesn't fix anything."
His eyes held mine, calm and steady, and I knew he knew what I'd been thinking. I put my hand on his shoulder and murmured, "Sorry."
He put his hand over mine and gave it a squeeze. "It's okay." We released each other, though I for one didn't want to, and he said, "Moving on. I wondered if they could somehow redirect it to some other town, but that's the same problem. The monster isn't dealt with, it's just relocated."
I laughed. "Monster on the move."
"Exactly. But to be honest I couldn't figure out how they should defeat it. So what's going to happen?"
I stared at him.
He groaned. "Don't tell me, you won't tell me until it's written."
"I can't tell you. I don't know how it ends."
His eyebrows went up. "You don't? I assumed you had it planned out."
I shook my head. "I just started writing and went with it to see what would happen. It was working great up to now, but I have no idea what to do next."
He collapsed onto his back in the sand. "You're killing me, Melissa. You know that,
right?"
I stretched out beside him. "Killing you like I can't kill the monster."
He laughed. "I'd rather it died. So, what else could happen?"
I sighed. "If I knew, I'd write it."
"What have you considered? We could figure it out together."
I smiled up at the vibrant blue sky, loving that he wanted to be involved.
He raised himself up onto his elbow and said, "If that's okay, I mean. I don't want to be pushy."
"You're not." I turned my head enough that I could look into his eyes, and realized how easily we could kiss. If we wanted to. I said, "I'd love to figure it out with you," hearing a rough hungry note in my voice.
His eyes held mine for a moment, sending shivers through me, then he dropped back onto the sand and we lay side by side staring up at the sky.
Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I doubt it," I said. Not unless he was thinking that he was getting married in a few days and should not be remembering how good kissing his fiancé's brother felt.
"Larry and Lizzie are the key."
I rubbed my temples with both hands, pushing away the inappropriate thoughts. "Sure, because they're the only ones there."
"Yeah, but why is that? You had at least six or seven other people early on who could have been there at the end."
"But the monster killed them."
Nicholas rolled to face me. "Exactly. Why did it kill them and not Lizzie and Larry?"
I turned my head so I was again looking at him but couldn't bring myself to roll onto my side. Too close for comfort. "I don't know. It just happened that way."
He shook his head. "They're there for a reason." His eyes were intent on mine. "They didn't even know each other at the beginning, and if Lizzie hadn't been coming through town on just that day they'd never have met. So there must be something they can do together that nobody else could do."
I bit my lip, considering this. Early on I'd intended to have the monster kill Lizzie, and it had nearly caught her but another woman had tripped while running away and the monster had killed her instead. I'd tried to change it but it hadn't felt right so I'd left Lizzie alive. When I told Nicholas, he said, "See, I figured you did that on purpose to keep Lizzie around. If it just happened, that's even a bigger sign. The story needs them to stay around so it made it happen."
His passion for my book touched me but I had to say, "That sounds kind of crazy. How could the story need anything?"
He punched me lightly on the shoulder. "You work at a bookstore. Are you telling me you've never heard an author say the story seemed to want one thing or the other to happen?" His eyes met mine again. "Or heard that in the special features of a movie?"
Since we had indeed heard that very comment in the director's talk on the Hatchet Monster movie, I had to say, "Recently, as you know. But...." I shook my head, then to my surprise rolled to face him. "Okay. I buy it," I said, as certainty filled me. "It's supposed to be Larry and Lizzie there. They can do something. But what?"
Nicholas's brow furrowed in concentration. "Maybe they could shine a bright light on the monster and it would vanish. Larry could get the light from his hardware store."
"But he'd be leaving Lizzie alone with the monster to go get the light, and since this is the first time the monster's been out in the open they couldn't both go and risk losing track of it. Plus it might not let either of them go. Probably wouldn't, actually."
"True."
After a few seconds of thought, I said, "Larry said it looked like hatred made physical."
"Yes, he did." He smiled at me. "I loved that line, by the way."
My cheeks went even warmer than they already were in the afternoon sun. "Thank you."
We lay smiling at each other for a moment, then he said, "Do you have a point?"
I laughed. "Occasionally. And this time, yes. What if they could somehow make it not physical any more?"
He gave an appreciative murmur. "I like it. Make it fly apart into all those genetically modified atoms."
"Assuming it actually is genetically modified. We don't know that for sure."
He smiled. "Larry thinks it is. I trust Larry."
I laughed again. "Good to know. So how could they destroy it?"
He pondered, then shook his head. "All I can think of is light. Bringing light in somehow. The monster is everything that's dark and sad and scary, and you showed it was feeding on people's fear and pain. If you shine a light on what's really happening, that stuff would all go away and I think the monster would too."
I looked deep into his eyes and knew he was thinking the same thing I was.
There was darkness and sadness between us, all the hard feelings and pain around our breakup. What would happen if we truly shone light on those?
*****
We barely spoke for the next few hours as we sat close together and read, and it felt wonderful.
Mid-afternoon, when our growling stomachs distracted us from our books, we had a snack of delicious fresh fruit over ice cream then checked out a few shops.
I found a beautiful silver necklace with a starfish pendant, and though it cost more than I'd planned to spend on souvenirs for the whole trip it was so gorgeous, and would remind me so much of seeing that starfish with Nicholas and of the shape of the quiet pool, I couldn't resist. He said his mom would be fine with paying for it but when I said I wanted it to be all mine he gave me a sweet smile and said he understood.
Once I'd clasped the chain around my neck we returned to the beach and went back to reading. When dinner time approached, he said, "Want to brave that café again and see if it's less busy?"
Since I was loving my time with him I agreed at once, but I couldn't help adding, "Won't your mom be upset if we're not there for dinner?"
He shrugged, then admitted, "Probably." He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on. Once it had alerted him that it was roaming and extra charges would apply, he sent Linda an email to explain that we'd be staying on the island.
As we walked to the café I realized that neither of us had acknowledged that our partners would also be wondering where we were. He must have been thinking the same thing, because when we reached the door he said, "I'll let Nicole know too, but it doesn't matter much. She'll be at Brandy's wedding all night."
I took a breath to ask why he didn't need to be there with her, but before I could he said, "Only enough room for one additional guest, apparently. That's okay, she'll have fun."
He sent his email to her, while I thought how unlikely it was that they could add one person to the wedding but not two, then cleared his throat. "Want to tell Owen?"
I didn't even want to hear his name at this point, at least not from Nicholas, but I had to say, "Sure. He'll probably stay in the casino if he knows I won't be around."
I sent off a message then offered him back his phone.
"Anyone else? Wendy?"
I shook my head. "If she's still not feeling well she won't be at dinner so she won't know we're not there, and if she is there your mom can tell her."
He smiled. "Good enough." Then he turned the phone off, stashed it in his backpack, and held open the door to the far less busy café for me.
We had a wonderful dinner, the food as good as earlier but the atmosphere so much better, and we laughed and talked and reminisced and I didn't want it to end.
Eventually, though, we simply couldn't eat another bite, so we staggered out and he said, "Can I tell you what I want to do now?"
"Explode? Because that's all I'll be doing."
He laughed. "Not quite. Sit on the beach and watch the sun set on the waves. It's gorgeous this time of day." His eyes turned intense as he looked at me. "I'd love to show it to you, but if you'd rather go back, I understand."
I spoke without thinking. "I don't want to go back."
He smiled and put his hand on my back to guide me forward.
Long after we settled on
to the sand I could still feel where he'd touched me, the skin alive and blazing in the shape of his hand. I knew I should be going back to the ship, should be getting away from him and what was happening between us, but I couldn't do it. It felt like our old times together had returned, and I couldn't bear the idea of missing a second.
The sun set, a riot of glorious colors on the ocean, and still we sat together watching the waves, now illuminated by moonlight. We hadn't spoken for ages but I'd never felt closer to someone than I did to him.
After a long while, I heard him take a deeper breath than usual and dreaded what he'd say. To my delight, though, he simply said, "Want to walk along the beach a ways?"
"Sure," I said, trying to sound casual. "Might as well, right? Since we're here."
He got to his feet, and said, "Right," as he held out his hand to help me up.
I took it, and knew at once that there was nothing casual about the way touching him felt.
We let go once I was on my feet, but I couldn't believe how little I wanted to. Again I tried to convince myself to get away before everything I'd dreamed of, my upcoming wedding and my life with a smart stable man, fell apart, but I couldn't. I'd always wondered why people let themselves drift into situations where they risked their marriages or relationships, why they let passion overwhelm their common sense, but now I knew that some situations just felt too good to leave.
We stuffed our sandals into our backpacks and walked the beach, slowly, sometimes wading in the still-warm shallow water and sometimes digging our bare feet into the sand, and at one point we got a little too close together and our hands bumped.
Then our fingers intertwined. I didn't know how it happened, hadn't intended it, but once we were holding hands it didn't even cross my mind to let go. It felt too good. It felt like coming home.
Barely speaking, we kept walking up and down the beach. Eventually, a thought struck me and I giggled.
He turned to me. "What?"
"I just thought of Larry and Lizzie. If they were on the beach here, they'd be walking up and down too because they don't know what to do."
Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9) Page 83