“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“Can the radio be fixed?”
“I suspect it’s magneto problems, or—”
“English. I don’t know what the hell a magneto is.”
“We’re sitting in a dead plane—no radio, no working electronics.”
“Does anyone know where we are? I mean, doesn’t someone monitor the planes in the sky on radar or some shit?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.
“The airport has a log of where we were headed. They’ll send a search party as soon as they realize we never made it.”
“How long before they find us?”
“Days, weeks, months—I don’t know. Our best hope is to find a village for help.”
“I have to get home to my mother. She’s sick, Garrett, really sick, and I need to be there for her.”
He squeezed my hand harder. “I know she is. I’ll get you home, I promise.”
I squeezed back, my hand craving his touch even as he held it. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.”
“Liar. Hang on, let me see if I can climb into the back. I packed some over-the-counter pain and fever reducer.”
“No, just help me clean it up.”
Easing my hand from his, I said, “Now’s not the time to be stubborn.”
“See if there’s a bottle of whiskey stowed back there.”
After climbing over the seat, I made my way to the back of the plane. Rummaging through my bag, I found the pain reliever.
“The tail must be on land—there’s barely any water back here.”
“It is. Looks like we’re in a small curve of the beach.”
Crawling back to the seat beside Garrett, I placed two caplets in his hand and handed him a small bottled water. “They’re extra-strength.”
“No whiskey?”
“Stop joking around.”
“I wasn’t.” He swallowed the tablets and swished some water around in his mouth before handing the bottle back to me. “Take a few sips. We need to ration it in case we don’t have a fresh water supply.”
I shook my head. “I’m okay. Let me get you taken care of.”
Angling the flashlight in one hand, I dabbed the cloth doused with antiseptic around the gash, cleaning away dried blood. He never moved a muscle, not even when I passed over the open wound.
“I’m sorry, I know that stings.”
“I’ll live.”
“You better—I can’t do this by myself.” I tried to sound teasing, though I felt anything but playful.
“I’ll keep you safe until the rescue team comes for us. Can you gauge the size of the laceration yet?”
Softly I wiped the last trace of dried blood and patted the ooze to keep it from running into his eyebrow. “It’s gaping a bit, but it’s only about an inch long.”
“Steri-strip it.”
Careful not to inflict more pain, I drew his skin closed with my thumb and index finger then applied the sticky bandages to hold it closed.
“You good?”
“I’m good. Thank you, Brooke.”
“Have you…ever been in a situation like this?”
“Survived a plane crash in the middle of the ocean with a beautiful woman? No.” His lips curled into a smile that intoxicated me, as if I were under the influence, three sheets to the wind.
He called me beautiful.
“Humor me. At least brag about being a Boy Scout or tell me how you and your brothers camped in the middle of nowhere all the time. Tell me you have a fancy little survival pocketknife and skills where you can build a cabin in a day, start a fire by rubbing sticks together, and cook a gourmet meal over it.”
“I’ll take care of you, Brooke, I promise.” He found my hand again, and this time it was me who squeezed. His strong but gentle hold eased my mind from spiraling out of control.
“I know.”
We held hands for a while, the sound of the waves lulling me into a dozy, somnolent state.
“Is safe for you to sleep?” I forced my eyes open.
“I’ll be okay. Probably just a mild concussion. Hell, I had worse than this growing up with Stone and Chad. Go to sleep, Brooke.”
I drifted off as he traced circles on the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself alone. Straight ahead, miles of beach stretched as far as I could see. Pink and gray skies shaded the early dawn sky in what could have been the perfect postcard but was nothing more than a beautiful hell.
I thought of my mother.
I wondered if she knew I was missing, and if she did, how she was holding up. Tears welled in my eyes knowing her already frail body may not withstand the stress of all this.
At her last appointment, the doctors had said that even though she was at the top of the recipient list, if she didn’t get a matching donor within a few months, we should consider hospice. I looked into the sky, searching for hope, silently pleading for a rescue party to find us.
“Garrett?” I pushed open the door, stepping onto the sugary sand.
“Over here.” His voice echoed from down the beach behind me.
He strode toward me, shirtless, khaki shorts riding low on his hips as he carried a machete. My eyes traveled up and down his naturally tan skin. It should be a sin for a man to have a chest that rippled and defined. My lips parted of their own accord, and my blood simmered.
Damn he is gorgeous.
He let out a cocky chuckle, breaking the trance, and I felt a pink flush warm my cheeks. Horrified that he’d caught me checking him out, I faked a yawn and stretched my arms over my head. His eyes traveled downward, and something wicked flashed in his stare. The hazy stupor faded as I realized the hem of my shirt had inched up, showing more than a trace of skin. I quickly lowered my arms and forced a calm face.
He held up the machete. “I’d asked for a few things to be stashed in the outside compartment since I didn’t know what we’d be getting into at Bella Vista. Worked to our advantage here.”
“How long have you been up?”
“Not long.”
“You should have woken me.”
“You needed the rest.”
“How’s your head feeling this morning?” I swallowed hard.
“I’m good.” He tipped his head toward a line of palms. “We’ll set up a small shelter here. I already walked a ways down the beach—no sign of people. The island is small, so it shouldn’t take that long to scout all the way to the other end. There’s also a lagoon with fresh water not far from here. We can refill the empty water bottles until we figure out some other containers.”
He slid the machete into the compartment on the side of the plane and retrieved a screwdriver and hammer from a toolbox. Speechless, I stared in awe at his nonchalant manner, as if this were some random camping trip instead of being stranded in the middle of nowhere.
He plopped down on a large piece of driftwood underneath a palm tree and scooped up a coconut from a stash I hadn’t noticed. “Today’s going to be a long day of manual labor. By the end of the day we’ll be exhausted, but we need to push ourselves to get as much as possible done. First we need to make a place to sleep.”
“Can’t we sleep inside the plane?”
“It’s too humid. In a shelter, the breeze will pass through and keep us cool.”
I sat down beside him. “Tell me what to do and I’ll help.”
He grinned, tucking a loose tendril of my hair behind my ear. “Come on, we’ll gather some wood first. We’ll need a large bonfire to signal a passing ship or plane. Take as many breaks as you need, and drink enough water to stay hydrated.”
“When we get back, I’ll expect the same—sleeping in, loafing around during the day, and not a single complaint out of your mouth.” I grinned and winked.
He let out a soft chuckle before hammering small holes into the hard-brown shell, making it look like a bowling ball. In a matter of seconds, he poured wa
ter from the fruit into a large scalloped shell.
“It doesn’t look like we have to worry about that any time soon. The damn deal with La Amory is probably going to shit now.”
“Do you think they’ve figured out we’re missing yet?”
“Yes.” He extended the makeshift cup to me.
“Then maybe there’s a chance we’ll be rescued soon?” I sipped the delicious coconut water, still trying to wrap my mind around the reality of being a castaway. He was worried about the million-dollar deal, and I wanted to see my mother again.
What if we’re never rescued? What if no one ever finds us?
“Not likely, but yes, there is a chance of that.” He tapped the hammer all the way around the circumference of the shell until it cracked open. Slicing into the white meat with a small pocketknife, he lifted a piece toward me. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”
Not likely.
What if Mom got the call? What if she had the transplant? What if her body rejected it? What if…she didn’t survive? What if we aren’t ever rescued and…
A sudden wave of nausea swept through my stomach and my emotions churned hard. I felt as though I were about to dry-heave. Placing my hands on my knees, I bent over, trying to breathe through it.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“What if we’re never found?”
He jumped to his feet and pulled me upward into his chest as he circled his arms around me. “We survived the emergency landing last night, so we can survive this. I promise if a ship passes or a plane flies over, I’ll make sure they see us.”
“I know you will. Though we want to be rescued for two very different reasons, I know you will try your best.” My voice cracked, and my shoulders trembled against his arms.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He stroked the back of my hair, pulling me in tighter.
“You’re worried about the deal falling through, and I’m overwhelmed with the weight and grief of the very real possibility that my mother may die without me getting a chance to say I love her one last time. I may never hear her voice again. There are unsaid things I need to tell her, things I should have already said, and it may be too late.”
He pressed his lips against the top of my head. “You’re going to get to do all of those things. Until then, your mother will be taken care of, Brooke.”
“My Aunt Jilly can only stay for a few days, maybe a week at the longest. She’s using vacation time from her job and left my Uncle Carl in Kansas City. I have to get home. There isn’t anyone else to help her.”
“George and Greta will take care of Rachel.”
I froze as uneasiness slithered down my spine. Garrett had called my mom by her first name, as if he knew her…just like he had with Jason.
Chapter 9
“How do you know my mother’s name?” I straightened, pulling out of Garrett’s hold.
His comforting arms tensed and hesitated before stepping back. “George told me. He mentioned her being sick since he knows how I feel about people being punctual and reliable. I don’t settle for anything less, yet he managed to talk me into going out on a limb with you. Somehow, I agreed to let you off from time to time if the need arose, maybe work from home if necessary. He convinced me you were so good I wouldn’t be sorry.”
“And Jason’s?” I folded my arms over my chest, demanding to know the truth. “My mother is the only one who knows anything about us.”
“George knows.”
My mouth gaped, disbelieving. “You’re lying. I’ve never told George.”
“It isn’t hard to figure out. He and Andrea spent time by your side when your mom was in the hospital.”
“Are you saying you believe my mother told George?”
He nodded. “I believe she knows they will always look after you if anything happens to her, and she’s right. George knew you needed the extra income to make life easier, and he threatened to personally kick my ass if I did anything to make life difficult for you.”
I heard him sigh, and I turned away, toward the ocean. How was I supposed to feel? I’d trusted my mom to never share my secret, but she knew I trusted George and Andrea. She would give her last breath trying to make life easy for me, to tell me she loved me, to make me feel loved.
“Brooke.” He stood so close without touching me.
“I need a minute.”
I didn’t hear him step away, but I knew he’d left me to deal with things my way. Sinking down into the sand, I stretched my legs out in front of me and put my palms in the sand at my hips. The sun beamed down on my face.
I wanted to be mad at my mom. I wanted to yell and have a meltdown…but her words rang in my ears.
“I’d sell my soul if it meant you were taken care of.”
And she would.
After a few minutes of basking in the sun, I marched into the shade where Garrett sat on the driftwood, staring intently in my direction.
“Are you okay?”
“Hard to believe you knew about my mom being sick and all the baggage that comes with it…and you still gave me the job.”
“Sometimes I surprise myself.” Flickers of relief teased the corners of his mouth, lifting it into a smile.
“You should do that more often.”
“What? Keep secrets?”
“Smile. You have a nice smile.”
Ignoring the compliment, he picked up the coconut, sliced another piece, and handed it to me. “Eat.”
The big bad Tin Man had a heart after all.
I nibbled on a few pieces and drank some of the water from the fruit before we started construction on our dwelling. He demonstrated how to bind the palm branches together until we’d made a large enough lean-to for us to sleep in. He’d made a fire pit with bigger rocks and shells, and one of the wire hangers from inside his garment bag would serve as a makeshift rotisserie rod.
“You worked hard today—sit down for a while and take a break.” He handed me the bottled water from inside the plane. “I’m going to see if I can find us some lunch and bring back some water from the lagoon.”
I watched him pick up a piece of wood he’d sharpened into a fine tip. My gaze trailed down his backside, and my blood buzzed. His rippled torso glistened as a trickle of sweat rolled down his back, and his broad muscled shoulders worked as he fastened the sharp piece to the end of a long branch, making a spear.
“Is there a place to bathe at the lagoon?”
Garrett stopped moving for a second before turning his head to look at me over his shoulder. His dark eyes devoured mine with clearly defined desire.
God, those eyes. He had the most beautiful spellbinding eyes that drew me to him with one look.
“Yes.” He swallowed hard.
“Let me grab the soap, shampoo, and a change of clothes.”
“Look in my bag and grab mine too, if you don’t mind.”
“Anything in particular?”
“I mostly packed suits, but I have one more pair of shorts in my suitcase—oh, and get my toothbrush too please.”
We carried our things in silence as we made a ten-minute journey through the thick greenery. I heard the sound of the waterfall before it came into view, and I stood in awe at the beauty. The clear water fell approximately fifteen feet into the small lagoon. Surrounded by lush tropical flowers, it was tranquil and inviting.
“While you’re getting cleaned up, I’m going to try my luck at spearing some fish.”
“No peeking.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” His voice teased, but his eyes were hooded.
As soon as he was out of view, I peeled off my clothes and dipped into the cool refreshing water. I used the shampoo sparingly, wondering how long I could make it last. Before dipping underneath the surface, I looked around, making sure Garrett wasn’t in sight. With the coast clear, I stood in the waist-deep pool. Drops trickled down my body as I headed toward the bank to finish off by shaving my legs.
Afterward, I dried my body with a t-shir
t then shimmied into a sundress and the only flip-flops I’d brought. As I combed through my wet hair, the pleasant scent of peaches from the fragrant shampoo wafted through the air.
“Garrett?” I called out.
I looked around, ready to call out his name again, but then I found him leaning against the trunk of a large tree. My face warmed at the thought of him watching me.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough.”
“What did you see?”
“Not enough.” Hunger danced in his eyes—hunger for me.
“What’s going on between us, Garrett?”
“You’re fired, Brooke.”
My eyes widened. “What? Why?”
He dove into the water, slid his shorts off, and tossed them onto the bank. As he shook the water from his hair, droplets rolled down his face.
“When we’re back in Dallas, you can apply for your marketing job if you want.”
“Why would you do this?”
“Because we can’t fuck if you work for me, and I can’t pretend I don’t want you any longer. You’re killing me.” There was a playful smile in his voice, but his expression was predatory. He raised his eyebrows as if daring me to protest.
I was speechless as I stood at the edge of the water, caught up in the chemistry between us. It was useless to pretend I could resist him. My hibernating hormones had fully awakened and were ready for a thrill.
Fuck consequences.
He grinned, holding my gaze captive with his wicked stare. A shudder passed through me and I fought the urge to wade into the water and make good on his promise right there, right then.
“Tonight, wear the dinner dress you brought. I’m going to take you on a date.”
“A date,” I repeated.
“Dinner. Lucky for you, I speared some fish.” He winked.
Even the way he lathered soap into his hair and washed his body made mine hum. I almost laughed and told him he didn’t have to try to seduce me to have sex with me; we’d crossed that line when he kissed me. I was a sure thing, and I craved the sparks he lit.
He started toward the bank without caring that I was watching. With each step, the water lowered on his hips and his perfect V came into view. I gasped before coming to my senses and quickly spun my body around.
Finding Wicked Page 7