by M. L. Rhodes
It took all his concentration and a considerable amount of physical strength to hold the boat steady in the waves, angling it so each one hit them end-on, knowing that if one happened to catch them on the side it could roll them.
Next to him, Nick sat in tense silence, his knuckles nearly white as he clutched the armrests on the chair.
In spite of the running lights, visibility sucked.
"Help me keep an eye out," he told Nick. "I've got the GPS on, but I prefer to have a visual as well and can't see the ass-end of a sea monster in this rain and fog."
"Okay. Tell me what I'm watching for."
"The island on our starboard side. We're looking for a protected cove or inlet, but it has to be wide enough we can get into it without getting beaten up on the rocks by the surf."
An occasional wave washed over the stern of the boat now, making it clear to Rafferty the wave height was increasing and their time was growing short.
Long, nerve-racking minutes passed as the boat was tossed up and over swell after swell.
"I think I might see something!" Nick said, standing and peering hard through the windshield. He moved behind Rafferty, out into the open, to look out where the glass didn't impede his view.
"Be careful and hold on," Rafferty warned as the boat hit another good-sized swell that jostled them hard.
"It looks like an outcropping of rocks...or maybe a finger of land," Nick shouted from behind him to be heard over the sound of the engine, the rain, and the wind. "Is it possible there's a bay or cove on the other side of it?"
"Yeah." Rafferty strained his eyes to make out what Nick pointed to. "Yeah, that just might work."
With Nick keeping lookout, Rafferty began to ease the boat toward the island.
It felt like it took forever to maneuver closer, to get past the landmark Nick had spied and see if it might offer shelter in the form of a cove.
"Almost there," Nick called. "And I think...I think maybe..."
Rafferty glanced back and saw Nick hanging onto the side of the boat, but leaning out for a better view.
"For Christ's sake, Nick, be careful!"
In that heartbeat of a second, a wave broke over the stern of the boat with a vengeance, crashing down onto the deck, drenching Rafferty, forcing him to duck his head. When he looked back up to be sure Nick was okay...he found the deck behind him empty.
His heart stalled in his chest, then resumed with an agonizing, pounding so hard he grew lightheaded. "Oh, shit! Nick! Nick!"
He cut the throttle so the boat was only creeping, and set the GPS to record the general position where the wave had hit and Nick had gone overboard. Then, with one hand he angled the boat for another wave, smaller than the last, and with the other, switched on the spotlight and aimed it out into the churning sea.
"Nick! Nick, answer me!" he shouted. Oh, God, please be okay.
He swept the spotlight in an arc, back and forth along the starboard side.
Nothing.
He turned it off, hoping against hope Nick had been able to switch on the small LED safety light Rafferty insisted they both wore clipped to their clothing when they were onboard. He looked into the darkness, hoping to catch sight of the orange light.
Still nothing.
"No. No, no, no, this isn't happening! Nick! Please.... Nick!"
And then he spotted a flash of orange, and another. The light!
He turned the spotlight back on, aiming it in the direction he'd seen the flashes. And with a rush of adrenaline, he caught sight of a bright orange life vest in the angry water.
"Nick, I see you! If you can hear me, I see you! I'm coming for you!"
He said a grateful prayer his friend was wearing a PFD. It would keep him afloat and make it easier to rescue him.
But getting to him was going to be another matter all together.
Rafferty's pulse continued to throb in a desperate tattoo as he slowly--too slowly for his liking--got the boat turned and swung in a circle, all the while trying to keep the spotlight shining in Nick's general vicinity so Nick would know he was coming back for him.
Once he got the boat turned, though, he was headed into the wind, which made forward movement more difficult, forcing him to go at a slower pace. And he didn't want to go too fast anyway, for fear he'd miss Nick.
In fifty-degree water he estimated Nick probably had an hour or maybe a little longer before he'd lose consciousness, as long as he didn't struggle and didn't try to swim. Activity would only make him lose body heat faster and shorten his time. But even if he stayed quiet, the cold water would be a shock to his system and he was going to be hurting. His extremities would grow cold quickly and soon he wouldn't be able to grab a rescue line if it was thrown to him.
Time was of the essence.
Still, safety was paramount, and in the dark, with the storm, Rafferty knew there was no margin for error.
It seemed to take hours to reach Nick again, although Rafferty knew it was only a matter of minutes. But he felt each and every one of them as a painful ache in his gut.
Nick, hang on. I'm coming for you.
He kept Nick on the starboard side of the boat so he could see him better. Finally, he felt as if he was a close as he could safely be in the rough water. He angled the boat so it was facing into the waves, then cut the starboard engine completely and stopped the boat.
He could just make out Nick's orange life jacket bobbing in the waves. "I'm going to throw you a rope," he shouted, hoping Nick could hear him. And if not, hoping Nick was alert enough to know what was coming.
Rafferty retrieved the throw bag, tied one end of the rope to the boat, and with the wind and rain buffeting him, wound up and threw it as hard as he could. It fell short.
"No, damn it!"
Wasting more of what he felt was precious time, he reeled it in. Then he leaned over and filled the bag with water for extra weight.
"Okay, you mother...this time you're going where I want you to!" He threw it again, and watched with bated breath as it fell...and landed just a few feet from Nick.
Thank God!
Nick worked his way over to it, and Rafferty felt a tug--Nick letting him know he had it.
Waves tossed the boat mercilessly, but Rafferty focused his full concentration on getting Nick back. It's going to be okay. It has to be okay.
Rafferty pulled and pulled, fighting against the rough water, the lunging boat, but finally, at long last, Nick was close enough he could make out his face, see how terribly pale it was.
"I've got you," he called, his chest squeezing tight. And then Nick was at the side of the boat, and Rafferty was leaning over to fist his hands in Nick's jacket. With a gut-wrenching groan and tug, he slowly, slowly dragged Nick up and over the side.
Nick collapsed in a heap on the deck, and unable to help himself, Rafferty sank down behind him, breathing hard, and wrapped his arms around him.
"I've got you," he murmured against Nick's icy cheek. "You're safe now. You're safe. Oh, God, Nick..." His voice broke as a thick lump of emotion filled his throat, his chest.
Nick's nearly-frozen hands wrapped around Rafferty's arms encircling his chest and squeezed. "Th-thank you for s-saving my a-ass."
Rafferty huffed out a strangled breath and wasn't sure if it was a laugh or a sob. "Just don't ever scare the hell out of me like that again, okay? I don't think my heart could take it."
"I'll t-try n-not to."
"You okay?" Rafferty asked. "Are you injured at all?"
"N-no. J-just f-fucking f-freezing," he said through chattering teeth.
The boat lurched sickeningly in another swell, but Rafferty still held tightly to Nick, knowing he needed to get the boat moving again, but unable to let him go, knowing how close he'd come to losing him and never, ever wanting to go through that terror again.
But their immediate danger won out. They had to get to safety or they were both going to end up overboard.
"Can you stand?" he asked.
Nick nodd
ed. "Th-think so."
"Come on." Rafferty helped him stagger to his feet. "You need to get into the cabin, take those wet clothes off, and get into the bed where it's warm. There are a couple of extra sleeping bags in the cabinet over the berth."
"Can I h-help you out h-here?"
"No, Nick. Your body temperature dropped while you were in the water. Your lips are blue and you're shivering, and this damn rain's not helping anything. It's imperative you get warm right now. I've got to get the boat into the cove you spotted, then I'll be in, too."
Nick nodded and Rafferty helped him toward the cabin. But with his hand on the door, Nick turned, like he needed to say something. Except he didn't. Instead, his eyes overflowed with a powerful emotion Rafferty couldn't even begin to define. But the sight stripped away the last of his own control. He'd come too close to losing this man tonight...too damned close.
In a swift movement, Rafferty slid a hand around to cup the back of Nick's wet head and pulled him into a kiss that shocked Rafferty with its intensity. He didn't know where it was coming from, only that he couldn't have stopped it if he'd tried. For a split second Nick froze...and then he was kissing back, his hand moving up to clutch in Rafferty's hair, his lips cold, but the intention behind them anything but.
They clung together, saying with action what Rafferty wasn't sure he could have said with words.
But all too quickly awareness of their situation, the danger they were still in, brought Rafferty back to earth. He pulled away, breathing hard, and stared at Nick, shocked by the other man's response and by his own daring. Nick stared back with what was probably a mirror of his own startled expression.
"I..." But the words died before they were even formed because Rafferty didn't know what to say to explain himself. "Go. You need to get warm," he finally managed to get out, his voice husky. "And I need to get us out of here."
Nick nodded. But the look in his eyes promised he wasn't going to forget what had just happened.
Holy God.
As he restarted the starboard engine and wrapped his hands around the wheel, Rafferty found himself shaking, but knew it wasn't just from the cold.
Chapter 4
* * *
"Nick?"
The low, husky masculine voice pulled Nick out of the light doze he'd been using as a defense mechanism to forget just how damned cold he still was. He opened his gritty eyes and, in the dim glow from the generator-produced light over the sink, saw Rafferty sitting next to him on the bed, his dark hair damp, worry edged into every line on his rugged face. But something more intimate, more emotional lingered in the depths of his gaze, causing a quivering response low in Nick's stomach.
"Hi," Nick whispered, finding his voice gravelly from the cold.
"Hi. You're still shivering. Can you sit up and drink this?"
Nick realized Rafferty held two mugs in his hand. And also noticed, with a pulse of awareness deep inside him, that Rafferty had stripped out of his own wet clothes and wore nothing but a pair of navy blue sweatpants. His broad chest still held a faint tan leftover from summer, and with its lightly dusted triangle of dark hair that tapered down into a fine line on his abdomen and disappeared into his waistband, it was sexy as hell.
Nick levered himself into a sitting position, keeping the sleeping bag pulled tight around him, not wanting to let out any of the small bit of heat he'd managed to build, and reached for the mug Rafferty offered. He smelled the sweet scent of chocolate even before he took a sip, then sighed in appreciation when he did and the hot liquid slid down his throat.
"Thanks. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever warm up."
"We'll get you warm."
The words hung in the air for a moment, suffusing Nick with heat of a very different kind...the kind that had to do with him and Rafferty tangled together nude under one of the sleeping bags, kissing, touching, fucking.
Rafferty's breathing seemed to have become constricted, coming out in soft huffs, and his gaze was everywhere but on Nick, telling Nick his friend's mind had probably taken a similar tack.
"Everything okay out there?" Nick asked to break the strained silence.
"Yeah. We're anchored in the cove now." Rafferty took a swallow from his own mug and seemed grateful for the change of topic. "It's still raining like all the demons from hell were unleashed from the sky, but we're protected from the worst of the wind and surf here. We should be fine."
Nick realized the sickening roll of the boat had stopped and now they bobbed much more gently.
"It was dumb for me to be leaning out like that. I'm really sorry."
"It wasn't your fault, Nick. You were trying to help. And I should have harnessed you. I should have thought to harness both of us the moment I realized how rough the weather conditions were." Rafferty shook his head and his dark brows drew together in a pained expression. "That was my fault. A stupid mistake that you had to pay the price for."
"No, no way am I going to let you take the blame for my recklessness, so don't even go there. I may not be real boat savvy, but I've lived up here long enough to know just how many people drown or die from exposure because of going overboard. You saved my life, Rafferty. That's not something I'll ever forget. Especially when I know you put your own in danger to do it. The way those waves were knocking the boat around...damn." Nick rubbed his eyes and counted his blessings, knowing just how bad the outcome could have been if Rafferty hadn't been experienced and known exactly what he was doing. "I owe you big."
"You don't owe me anything," Rafferty protested. "I just..." His voice caught and another ripple of something tumultuous stirred in his eyes. "I..."
"You just what?" he encouraged.
Rafferty shook his head and gave him a wan smile. "It's nothing. You done with that?"
He pointed to the mug Nick held, which, when he looked down into it, he was surprised to discover was empty.
"Yeah, I guess I am."
He handed it to Raff, who rose and set it and his own in the small sink. Raff's steps were uneven, and it was more than just the rocking of the boat...he was limping.
Although he was, for the most part, recovered from the accident over a year ago when a drunk driver had sped through an intersection and broadsided him, when Rafferty was overly tired or stressed, Nick knew his leg ached. The doctors had told Raff it might always do that, and he should just be glad he'd been able to regain full use of it again. Rafferty considered it a small price to pay. But Nick's chest tightened at the sight of his friend's pain. God knows the man was probably exhausted after what had happened tonight.
Rafferty dug around in one of the cabinets under the berth and came up with a wool Hudson's Bay blanket, which he laid over Nick's sleeping bag. "Here, see if this helps."
Nick lay back down and, grateful for the extra cover, pulled his sleeping bag and the blanket up to his chin. He could already feel the extra warmth of the heavy wool seeping into him...and yet, it hit him with poignant certainty that he'd much rather have the encompassing arms of his best friend keep him warm than an extra blanket.
Rafferty turned off the light, and without saying a word, climbed into the berth and slid into the other spare sleeping bag he'd spread out next to Nick.
Nick once again felt the incredible heat pouring off his friend like he had earlier in the night. Except this time it seemed even more intense. And he was pretty damn sure he knew why. He knew what was on his mind and suspected Rafferty's was right there, too. Knowing Rafferty as he did, though, he doubted the man would voluntarily bring it up.
They lay for several long minutes in the dark, the only illumination the faint ethereal glow given off by the masthead light outside that Raff kept on when they were anchored at night. It filtered through the tinted acrylic hatch above them like a pale star. The pounding rain against the boat and the hum of the bilge pump almost, but not quite, drowned out the sound of their own uneven breathing.
Each passing minute seemed to increase the building tension ten-fold, until Nick
couldn't stand it any longer. Everything in him wanted to reach out and touch Rafferty, lying so close, yet not sure what kind of a reaction he might get if he did.
"So are we going to talk about what happened out there?" he said softly.
Such a long silence followed his question, he thought maybe Raff was going to refuse to answer. But then, finally, Rafferty said in a strained voice, "I thought we did."
Nick rolled onto his side, facing Raff, and tucked a hand under his head. "I don't mean the storm or my trip into the water."
Rafferty lay on his back. Nick heard him inhale, then exhale in a slow, stuttered breath.
Nick reached over and laid a hand atop Raff's...not squeezing or trying to hold it, just a touch to make contact, hoping it would be accepted and not pushed away. "How long?" he asked.
"Long?"
"How long have you been feeling the urge to kiss me like that?"
Another series of ragged breaths escaped his friend, and again Nick wondered if Raff would bail on the conversation.
Damn, he had a right to, Nick supposed. Maybe the kiss outside had been driven by pure adrenaline and now Raff regretted it, didn't want to be reminded of it. Except... There was also the matter of the words he'd heard Raff mumbling in his sleep. "Please, Nick...do it. I want it. Want you." Had Raff been dreaming about him? It had sure sounded like it...and no matter how Nick spun it in his mind, he only knew one way to take those words.
Yet still Rafferty stayed quiet, slowly but surely causing Nick to doubt everything.
Confused and more than a little defeated, he was about to apologize for pushing when Rafferty said, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Since I stayed at your house that week."
The bottom fell out of Nick's stomach at the other man's admission.
Jesus. That had been back in August. Over two months ago--
Two months... Of course. About the time Rafferty had started acting oddly, had withdrawn, and had put on the brakes about spending time with him outside of work. All this time Nick had thought it was the divorce, and maybe some of it was...but had he been at the root of what was distracting Raff? The thought was dizzying.