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“Okay, well, let’s focus on the message first. Any ideas?” Zane asked, setting his backpack on the ground for a moment.
Allison let go of her small overnight bag and started untying her sarong. She was wearing the same bikini top, but this time with shorts.
“I’m not sure what kind of message you’re trying to send,” he blurted. This was not the time for him to have another moral crisis prompted by Allison disrobing.
“Everyone who works on this island has seen me wearing this. I’ll tear it into strips and we’ll tie those onto trees to lead someone up to the honeymoon cottage. We’ll start with one of the metal pilings on the dock. Hopefully that will be enough of a signal that we’re still here.”
“Do you really want to rip that up? You love it.”
Allison pulled at the fabric until it gave way and she was able to get a strip of it free. “I don’t love this thing more than I love being alive.” She waved him ahead as she made off in the direction of the small marina. “Come on.”
Zane’s mind raced as he struggled to keep up and surveyed the island landscape—the wild rustle of the palms above them and the constant sideways pelting of the rain making it seem like they were on another planet right now. It certainly felt like a different place than it had been twenty-four hours ago. This was paradise upended. Gone was the calm serenity he had sought.
They jogged ahead, breaking out from under the canopy of shade only to learn how much the trees had been blocking the wind. Allison’s hair whipped like crazy. Ahead, the ocean’s churn was an endless sloshing of unfathomable amounts of water. Gone was the crystalline blue. This sea was coal gray and angry. The whitecaps and foam were of no consolation; they only served as a reminder that things were not as they should be. And against that tumultuous backdrop was Allison, looking tiny and defenseless running toward the dock, even when Zane knew very well that she was as tough as nails. If anyone was well suited to survive, it was her. Zane felt as though he was still honing the skill, but he would be damned if this storm was going to hurt her. Not on his watch. Not while he had anything to say about it.
He hustled to catch up. They arrived at the dock, which was now nothing more than a series of gray wood planks nearly submerged in the water. There was no boat, nor were there any other people. Zane now doubted that anyone would be coming for them despite Allison’s family’s concern for her safety. The seas were too rough. It was all too dangerous.
Allison carefully started down the dock and Zane followed right behind her, just in case she slipped. They both pitched to the side with every wave that threatened to swallow up the slick wood planks beneath their feet. Zane again told himself that he would not let anything happen to her. He had to keep Allison safe. Still, he knew that fighting Mother Nature was a losing proposition. If she decided she was going to win, there was not much to be done.
About halfway down the dock, the water was getting even deeper and Allison smartly came to a stop. She took the strip of sarong and wrapped it around the metal pole that moored the structure to the seafloor. On a calm day, this would have been a simple task, but it was pure chaos outside right now. With her hands occupied and the wind threatening to topple her, even while she used her strong legs to brace herself, Zane had no choice but to wrap one arm around her waist, steadying her while pressing his body into hers. She felt too good against him. Too right. And maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that made him think that if ever there was a time to throw caution to the wind, it was now, when life was hanging in the balance and they had no idea if they were going to survive.
Allison couldn’t take any more of Zane’s hands around her waist. It was too great a reminder of everything she couldn’t have. She pried herself away from him now that the fabric was tied to the dock piling. She ran along the planks, but lost her footing at the very end. With a definitivethud, she landed on her butt. Pain crackled through her hip and down her thigh.
“Dammit!” She scrambled to her knees, embarrassed, frustrated and several other unpleasant emotions. She attempted to stand, but the dock was like a skating rink, and the ocean wasn’t playing nice, either, sloshing water in her face.
“Let me help you.” Zane threaded his hands under her armpits and lifted her to her feet with what seemed like zero effort.
“I can take care of myself.” She twisted her torso and leaped up onto the sand.
“I’m well aware of that. It doesn’t mean I can’t still help you. If anything ever happened to you, Scott would never forgive me.”
Allison was so tired of this. She turned to Zane, planting a single finger in the center of his chest to put him on notice. “I don’t want to hear one more word about what my brother will or will not forgive you for. If I die in this storm—which, for the record, I know I will not—I will take all of the blame. You are officially recused of your bro duties.”
He grabbed her hand with both of his. “But you’ll be dead, so I will definitely get blamed.”
“Then my ghost will haunt you and Scott and make sure you both know it was all me. Now, come on, let’s finish leaving our trail of fabric.” Allison didn’t wait for him to respond and trekked up to the spot where they’d dropped their bags next to the trail that led to the clearing. She tore off another piece of the sarong and handed it to Zane, pointing to a tree branch she couldn’t reach.
He tied it off. “We should go get whatever food we can and bring it up the hill with us.”
She didn’t want to give him any credit at all right now, but that was an excellent call. She hadn’t thought twice about food since yesterday, too miserable over his rejection. “Good idea.”
“Thanks.” He smiled, which seemed like more of an apology than anything.
Allison wasn’t quite ready to accept that from Zane, spoken or otherwise. So she started walking.
They split up back at their cottages, each scavenging for supplies. Allison took a moment to use a pair of scissors she found in her kitchen to cut up the rest of her sarong, but she still managed to return to their meetup spot first with bananas, bread, a flashlight and a blanket.
Zane emerged from his place second. “I brought a bottle of champagne.”
Allison just shook her head. “I’d say you were a numbskull if I didn’t need a drink so badly right now.”
“For what it’s worth, I also brought cheese and crackers, apples and a deck of cards.”
“Great. It’ll be just like summer camp.” Chances were that it might be just as rustic up the hill. She had no idea what they were walking into, whether the solar was connected up there and whether they’d have furniture to sit or sleep on.
They retraced the inland path they had taken yesterday, stopping periodically to tie another piece of her sarong to a tree. Having some protection from the rain and wind made the trip much easier than it would have been near the raging ocean, but it was still slow going. The ground seemed to shake with every gust of wind, rain was still coming down in sheets and they were both completely soaked. Allison didn’t necessarily fear for her life, but she was scared of the unknown right now. She was reasonably certain that she and Zane could work together as a team to survive, but what toll would it take on her heart when this was all over? A huge one, she feared. She was going to need a vacation from her vacation.
When they reached the base of the hill, it looked like an almost insurmountable climb. She was already exhausted and dreading what it was going to be like, holed up inside a shell of a house while riding out the storm. Even worse, the spot on her hip where she’d fallen was throbbing. “I’m really not excited about doing this,” she said.
