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Catalina glanced through the foliage, squinting as something caught her eye. “What’s that?”
Will stopped and looked in the direction she’d indicated. “Looks like a cabin of sorts. I’ve not come this far inland before. Let’s check it out.”
Without waiting for her, Will took off toward the small building. Catalina followed, stepping over a piece of driftwood and trailing through the lush plants that had nearly overtaken the property.
“I wonder who had this cabin built,” he muttered as he examined the old wood shack. “The island belongs to Alma from what I could tell when I first started coming here.”
The covered porch leaned to one side, the old tin roof had certainly seen better days and some of the wood around the door and single window had warped. But the place had charm and someone had once cared enough to put it here. A private getaway for a couple in love? A hideout for someone seeking refuge from life? There was a story behind this place.
Will pushed on the door and eased inside. Catalina couldn’t resist following him. The musty smell wasn’t as bad as she’d expected, but the place was rather dusty. Only a bit of light from outside crept in through the single window, but even that wasn’t bright because of the dark cloud covering.
“Careful,” he cautioned when she stepped in. “Some of those boards feel loose.”
There was enough dim light coming in the front window for them to see a few tarps, buckets and one old chair sitting against the wall.
“Looks like someone was working on this and it was forgotten,” Catalina said as she walked around the room. “It’s actually quite cozy.”
Will laughed. “If you like the rustic, no-indoor-plumbing feel.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned around. “Some of us don’t need to be pampered with amenities. I personally enjoy the basics.”
“This is basic,” he muttered, glancing around.
The sudden sound of rain splattering on the tin roof had Catalina freezing in place. “So much for that forecast.”
Will offered her a wide smile. “Looks like you get to enjoy the basics a bit longer unless you want to run back to the yacht in the rain.”
Crossing the room, Catalina sank down onto the old, sheet-covered chair. “I’m good right here. Will you be able to handle it?”
His aqua eyes raked over her, heating her skin just as effectively as if he’d touched her with his bare hands. “Oh, baby, I can handle it.”
Maybe running back to the yacht was the better option after all. How long would she be stranded in an old shack with Will while waiting out this storm?
Catalina wasn’t naïve. She knew full well there were only so many things they could talk about and nearly every topic between them circled back to the sexual tension that had seemed to envelop them and bind them together for the past several weeks.
Her body trembled as she kept her gaze locked onto his.
There was only one way this day would end.
Ten
Will stared out the window at the sheets of rain coming down. He didn’t need to look, though; the pounding on the roof told him how intense this storm was.
So much for that flawless forecast.
Still, staying across the room from Cat was best for now. He didn’t need another invisible push in her direction. He glanced over his shoulder toward the woman he ached for. She sat as casual as you please with her legs crossed, one foot bouncing to a silent beat as her flip-flop dangled off her toes. Those bare legs mocked him. The strings of her bikini top peeking out of her dress mocked him as well. Every damn thing about this entire situation mocked him.
What had he been thinking, inviting her for a day out? Why purposely resurrect all of those old, unresolved feelings? They’d gone four years without bringing up their past, but Will had reached his breaking point. He needed to know if they had a chance at...what? What exactly did he want from her?
He had no clue, but he did know the need for Cat had never lessened. If anything, the emptiness had grown without her in his life. He’d let her go once to save her, but he should’ve fought for them, fought for what he wanted and found another way to keep her safe. He’d been a coward. As humiliating as that was to admit, there was no sugarcoating the truth of the boy he used to be.
“You might as well have a seat,” she told him, meeting his gaze. “The way you’re standing across the room is only making the tension worse. You’re making me twitchy.”
