She tore her gaze from the crying woman and focused the front of the powerful speedboat and hoped it was fierce enough to conquer rough seas.
"So what are some of your resolutions for the new year?" Luke asked out of the blue.
"Surviving tops the list." She smiled at his attempt at distraction. "You?"
"Same." He looked ahead at the approaching sea.
"When we get back to the island, I think I'm going to sleep for the next two days." She spit the hard-hitting rain from her mouth and leaned against his side. "Your place or mine? Or are you sick of me now?"
He ripped his gaze from the water and looked her in the eye. "Your place. It's closest to the dock."
"Practical." She yelled above the roar of the ocean that could now be seen clearly beneath a steady show of lightning.
Everyone linked their arms together per Reggie's instructions and scooted as close together as they could. Bobby strapped himself into the captain's chair while Reggie stood firm at the helm. The ocean pitched and rolled, making the wild river from earlier look tame.
Head down, she stared at the toes of her hiking boots, once again covered by water. She squeezed her eyes shut.
If she died today, after all of this, there'd be too much regret. She imagined Scott at his bachelor party in Breckenridge, Colorado. Knowing him as she now did, the bastard was probably picking up some tourist for a one-night stand before saying his I-do's to his unsuspecting bride. It pissed her off that he'd get his happily ever after while she became fish food.
She shook the thought from her mind. No, that wouldn't happen. If she got out of this, she would rip up the resolutions list. She would make plans instead of wishes. She would speak up for what she wanted rather than compromise. And all of those friends of hers who attended the bachelor party or the wedding after knowing what the bastard had done to her were no longer her friends. Like Rosie said, she'd rather be alone than with the wrong people...that included frienemies. Fuck them all. She'd meet new people, start fresh, live as she wished.
"Brace yourselves," Reggie yelled.
She opened her eyes and saw a wall of water in front of them. The front of the boat headed straight for it like the beginning of a rollercoaster ride before launching upward toward the sky. Airborne, the group flew an inch above the bench before using their collective strength to slam back into place. Saltwater poured over them.
Flash. Boom. Wave. Launch. Airborne. Smack.
Lightning illuminated the undulating water around them and she wished she didn't see the reality of their situation. They'd traded the darkness of the jungle with its unknown creatures for the brightness showcasing known dangers. She didn't know which one was worse. It all sucked.
Flash. Boom. Wave. Launch. Airborne. Smack.
"San Pedro!" Reggie shouted above the angry roar of the ocean.
She looked up and saw the lights of the island in the distance. Hope bubbled to the surface. She met the gaze of the woman across from her and smiled. They were going to make it.
Flash. Boom. Wave. Launch. Airborne. Smack.
Her elbows had gone numb from where they were all joined together. She leaned over to see Savannah wedged between her two friends, head lobbing against her chest.
After they rounded the South side of the island, she could easily see the long docks stretching in front of the resorts. She heard Reggie tell Bobby to call ahead for a doctor to meet them at Ramon's.
When they neared the dock, she saw a group of people waiting for them and fought back a sob. Home. That's what it felt like. A home away from home with strangers who suddenly felt like kindred spirits.
Bobby jumped to the dock and tied them to it. Everyone looked at Reggie and started clapping. He'd gotten them home.
They carried Savannah off first and rushed her away. Rain still pelted them. She glanced at the sky. No mercy. Her legs felt like noodles as she stood on the dock. Every muscle quaked as she pushed forward.
Luke grabbed her arm, also unsteady on his feet. In silence, they stumbled toward the cabanas and nearly crawled up the steps.
She peeled off her clothes like a zombie and headed to the shower. She'd never smelled so rancid in her life. No way she'd get into bed covered in muck.
Together they stood beneath the warm shower, fighting to stand on legs that had gotten too much action. In silence, they toweled off. She found her pajama pants and a dry tank top while he wrapped himself in the towel.
Unable to stand the stench of their discarded clothes, she scooped them up and tossed them outside on her little porch. For a second she looked at the endless rain and the sea beyond. A sob caught in her throat and she said a silent prayer of gratitude for being safe.
"I'm starving," she said as she closed the door and remembered her stash of junk food she'd brought with her.
Luke had tucked himself in bed and held covers up to his shoulders. He looked as exhausted as she felt. "Come to bed. It's after two in the morning, we left here almost twenty-four hours ago."
"I have food." Feeling like a genius for having bags of chips and pretzels, she pulled them from the drawer, dropped them on his lap, and crawled beneath the covers with him. "I always like to keep a little something in the room just in case."
"Just in case you nearly drown twice?" His sleepy grin and bruised face pulled at her heartstrings.
She scooted close to him, needing his warmth, and sighed. "In all seriousness, I'm glad I wasn't alone today." She ripped open a bag of chips while he claimed the pretzels. "I know we're fearless and fabulous single people who love our freedom and everything but..." she bit into a chip, afraid of sounding pitiful, "I'm thankful we had each other out there today."
He brushed chip crumbs from her chin with his thumb. "We're still sexy, smart single people but..." he turned her face toward his, "I'm glad we were together, too."
"I was so scared."
"Only a fool wouldn't have been scared." He grabbed a handful of pretzels and grinned. "I love that you hoard snacks."
"Hoard? That's such a strong word." Her speech slurred with exhaustion. She put the bag aside before slipping deep beneath the covers and curling around a pillow. Facing him, she marveled again at his body and thought about the ease with which he'd carried Savannah. "What do you do for exercise?"
He grinned, put the pretzels on the nightstand, and turned off the light before mirroring her position. Only their heads were visible above the comforter. "There's a lot of anxiety with my job so I go to spin classes in the morning and then workout in my home gym at night. Like I said...I won't be a contestant on Survivor any time soon."
It was hard imagining him as a lawyer let alone as someone wrought with anxiety. From the moment they'd met she'd envied his quick smile and laid back attitude. Her fingers laced through his in the space between their bodies.
"Alyssa...can I call you Aly?" he asked, looking more like a sleepy little boy than a workaholic lawyer who exercised to burn off steam.
"Yeah, you can call me Aly. After all we've been through and all we've done to each other in the past few days, you can call me anything you want."
"Did you really think I looked like I'd fit in in that village?"
"That really bothered you, didn't it? All I asked was if you'd like to live in a tree house. I still the tree house resorts here look fun."
He laughed, eyes barely open. "Tell me one thing about yourself that no one else knows. I'll do the same."
She felt like she was having a slumber party with a good friend where they wanted to prolong sleep just so they could keep talking. Smiling, she snuggled deeper under the covers.
"I eat Reece's Peanut Butter Cups from the bottom up, chew around the edges, and nibble all the chocolate off until only the peanut butter remains. It's quite a production. When I'm sad or PMSing, I can go through one king size bag a night."
"Scary." He smiled against the pillow.
"Now you go."
"Do you know what I'm really doing down here solo at New Year
's Eve?" He opened his eyes and met her gaze through the darkness. "I'm turning thirty-five in a few months and I'm not sure I want to be a divorce attorney anymore. I needed some down time to get a different perspective. I think that guy from the tree house who drove our bus is probably happier with his life than I am."
She stared, not sure what to say. She'd led with candy.
"Too deep for you, huh? Sorry." He closed his eyes and sighed.
"No, not too deep, just unexpected." She reached out and ran her knuckles over his cheekbones. "I'm sure you'd be good at anything...except motivational speaking."
He laughed, shifted the pillow out from between them, and pulled her against his chest. "Goodnight, Aly."
She curled against him and sighed. Tears escaped from between her eyelids, but not because of fear or regret, but because she was so damn thankful to be alive.
* * *
Chapter Nine
Thunder woke him. Rain pelted the windows of Alyssa's cabana. He rubbed a hand across his face before looking down at her head resting on his arm. Carefully, he slid his limb free and pushed the covers back.
Every muscle he possessed either ached or throbbed. It felt like a steel rod had jammed through his spine. Naked, he hobbled toward the bathroom. He felt like an elderly man in need of a walker.
A good two-days' worth of stubble shadowed his face. The bruise on his cheekbone had darkened to a deep purple and his eyes looked like he'd been on one helluva binge. He smirked. If only.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, he looked at Alyssa's sleeping form and sighed. For two people who prided themselves on their independence, they were getting too close too fast. He leaned over her, kissed her lightly on the lips, and grinned when she smiled in her sleep.
Damn, she had a way about her. Even covered in muck yesterday, he'd thought her to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. Inside and out. Maybe she thought she was fooling him with her pseudo bad girl act, but he could tell she was genuinely kind.
Too kind for the likes of him, most likely.
Sighing, he grabbed his backpack, fully aware that his clothes were a nasty wet mess on the porch, but needing to get back to his own cabana. Not only did he need sleep, he also needed to check his email and check in with reality.
He hesitated at the door with another long look at her pajama-covered leg peeking out from the side of the covers. With another long sigh, he stepped outside into the rain, gripped the towel tightly, and ran across the sand toward his own cabana.
"Luke!" Bill shouted at him.
"Hey!" He squinted against the rain before walking beneath his porch's roof and motioning for Bill to join him. "Are you just getting back?"
"About an hour ago. Ben and Jake showed up eventually, both okay. I'm about to head to bed. What are you doing out here in a towel?"
"Long story." He unzipped his backpack for the keycard. "And Savannah? She's okay?"
"Last I heard she's being released at one from the clinic and then she's coming back here." Bill held his hand out to him. "Thanks for knowing what to do and making sure she made it back. I'll never forget it."
He shook the man's hand but shook his head. "I didn't do anything heroic, just bandaged her up and carried her for awhile. Reggie's the one who got us all back."
"Well, I'm going to bed. See you later." Bill turned and walked away.
Thankful he didn't need to answer more questions about the towel, he unlocked the door to his room and quickly closed it behind him. He sank onto his own bed and dropped the backpack beside him.
He couldn't believe how badly his back hurt from crashing up and down on that boat's bench seat. He lay flat and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't believe he'd confided in Alyssa last night about questioning his career. No one knew that. Everyone thought he thrived on conflict, his brothers had even joked about it.
Now she knew the truth, the one woman who'd made it a point to say she wanted to keep things superficial and uncomplicated. Groaning, he covered his eyes with his forearm and willed himself back to sleep. It hurt too much to do anything but lie here.
When he opened his eyes again, darkness surrounded him. Confused, he found his iPad and checked the time and date. He had lost an entire day.
Tomorrow would be New Year's Eve. In three more days he'd be home. He'd wasted one of his vacation days unconscious.
He hobbled to the shower, once again feeling ancient, and simply stood beneath the water with closed eyes.
Feeling more like himself, he walked to the bar. Rosie presided with her usual gusto, but he didn't see anyone familiar.
"Is Alyssa around?" he asked.
"Look who's risen from the dead!" Rosie flashed her golden smile and slid him his usual Heineken. "Everyone is talking about the Lamanai Twelve. You're famous!"
Great. He sighed and poured the beer into a cold mug. "How's Savannah?"
"She's good, tough woman she is." Rosie beamed, hands on hips. "They are all together somewhere, but I don't remember. Captain Morgan's, I think."
He digested that information as he drank the beer. After the severity of the bite and the brutal journey back to Ambergris Caye and San Pedro, he'd assumed she'd be airlifted to Belize City or somewhere. The last thing he expected to hear was that she was fine and out with her crew.
"Alyssa's with them?" He eyed the menu while he debated about grabbing a water taxi and heading up to the other resort or waiting here. He hated feeling like some old man who'd slept for nearly twenty-four hours while they were all out and about.
Rosie crossed her arms over her bountiful chest and smiled with knowing. "You goin' to get her?"
"I'm not going to chase her all over the island. She'll be back eventually." He sat on the stool and tapped his fingers against the counter. "Did I really sleep an entire day? I've never done that in my life. Is it really New Years' Eve tomorrow? Time's all out of whack."
Rosie studied him with old-soul eyes. "You were worn out. It's okay to sleep when your body needs a rest. You need to take care of yourself instead of everyone else, Luke. Go find Alyssa."
"I don't want to interrupt whatever they're doing." He looked toward the dock and thought about catching the water taxi, wondered why she hadn't woken him up, felt like an idiot again for being unsure.
Decisiveness had always been his trademark. Until Alyssa, that is. She confused him. His reaction to her bothered him, too.
"Captain Morgan's, huh? I'll go." He smiled when he met Rosie's gaze. "Are we really being called the Lamanai Twelve?"
"You are all in the local paper." She beamed and slid him a copy of the San Pedro newspaper. There they were, the group photo that had been taken at the ruins before they'd all split up on their hike. There they all were, completely oblivious to the fact that their adventure tour was about to get pretty damn scary. His arm looped over Alyssa's shoulders. She beamed up from the picture with her green headband in place, looking happy and excited. He groaned at the headline, Heroic Lamanai Twelve. "I have extra copies, you can keep that one."
"I'll grab it from you later. I have a water taxi to catch, but first..." An idea blossomed into a plan, "I need to make a few calls. I'll catch up with you later." He finished his beer and jumped from the stool.
Sore muscles be damned, time worked against him and he needed to catch up.
* * *
Alyssa sat in the midst of the Dallas group and laughed while they regaled her with more tales of their travels. She'd already decided to add 'learning to scuba dive' as a plan for the new year. If diving clubs were this much fun, she'd join one as soon as possible.
She'd woken up at three in the afternoon, strangely confused about time and sore in all the wrong places. Luckily, she'd found a masseuse on the beach who had worked magic on her battered muscles.
She tipped her chair back and hummed along with the music. Dave the Gringo One Man Band performed again and she'd already bought one of the CDs. It would be fun listening to it back home—she was certain the memories would
flood back and keep her warm on cold Colorado nights.
Savannah sat with them, her leg wrapped in a bandage and crutches at her side. She'd had minor surgery, been put on an IV, but now was "good to go." Her words.
"To the Lamanai Twelve!" A stranger at the bar toasted them. He'd bought the all a round of shots.
They held up their shot glasses, amused at the attention the island had given them. The only people missing from their little group were Luke and the foursome from Kansas.
"I'm going to frame that article in my office when I get home," Savannah confessed with a gleam in her brown eyes. "Bill's not the only one who can milk it. I've decided to get a snake tattoo right over the bite scars, sort of like paying homage."
"Are you serious?" She was so sick of hearing about snakes, she couldn't imagine having one tattooed on her. "What is it that you do for a living anyway? When I first saw you, I thought you were a model."
"I'm a general contractor." Savannah smiled. "My dad's company. He always wanted a son but ended up with four daughters. Poor guy. I'm damn good with a drill."
"That is the last thing I thought you'd say," she said.
"Do you know how hard it is to date anyone when they find out what I do for a living and that I hang out with a bunch of men all of the time?" Sadness entered Savannah's eyes. "Luke told me that Bill's in love with me, isn't that ridiculous? He's like my brother."
She drank her rum punch and lifted her face to the breeze. "It's true, I think. You should make a move."
"Me make a move? Like this?" She motioned to her leg.
"Um...yeah, like that. You're beautiful even when bandaged. You should do it."
"Speaking of making a move, where's Luke? I haven't seen him since he carried me in that village. Is he all right?"
She shrugged. She'd knocked on his door a few times, asked Rosie if she'd seen him, but then had let it go. Maybe he was avoiding her, perhaps he'd gotten sick of her. He'd said he wanted alone time after his family so...she had no idea.
"There he is," Savannah said with a wave toward the dock.
Anonymity (Wanderlust Series Book 1) Page 9