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Phillip is toweling off beside me. Agitation is clear in his form and his quick movements. “Foolish,” he says. “Snorkeling cruises always offer life vests and noodles.Use themif you’re not a strong swimmer.”
“Did he say what happened?”
He shakes his head. “He was too panicked. Not unusual, all in all.”
“Good thing you were close by,” I say.
Phillip drops the towel and sits down on the bench. His bare feet are tan against the light wooden deck. “Yes,” he says. His mouth is set in a grim line. “Not the first time I’ve seen that with tourist cruises.”
“Oh?”
“No.”
I put my hands on his shoulders, curving them over the muscles that connect to his neck. His skin is already sun warm. “Not the first time you had to play a knight in shining armor, either?”
He grows still as a statue beneath my hands, but it still takes me another second to realize what I’ve done.
My hands freeze on his shoulders. “Gosh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says. He looks up at me with serious blue eyes, and my brain short-circuits. He’s so close, and I’m only in a bikini, standing right in front of him. And he’s only in his swimming trunks.
My thumbs dig softly into his muscles. “It was an instinct.”
“Yeah,” he says. His voice has deepened. “I get that.”
“We should—”
“I got you some bottles of water,” our tour guide says. He pauses with a bottle in either hand, his smile grows brighter when he sees us. “Right! You two are newlyweds. Can I get you anything else?”
I drop my hands from Phillip’s shoulders like I’ve been caught shoplifting. Not that I ever have been. Shoplifting, that is, not caught. “Thanks.”
“That’s all,” Phillip says and gets up to accept his water. “Thank you.”
“Anytime!”
I focus on unscrewing the tight cap of my water bottle. “Sorry.”
“Eden,” he says and takes a step closer. A notch appears between his eyebrows, giving him a look like there’s something he wants to say. My fingers stay locked on the tight cap, my body stone-still once again.
“Yes?”
His mouth softens. “The rum tasting is tomorrow.”
“Oh. Yes, I remember.”
“Good,” he says. “Don’t forget.”
It sounds like a promise.
“I won’t,” I say.
I check my watch. It’s ten minutes past our meeting time, and he’s not in the lobby. I shift on the sofa and grimace at the chafe. Despite my diligent use of sunscreen and Phillip’s help on the boat, I’ve missed a few spots. The backs of my thighs and my backside are a lovely shade of pink. Tomorrow it’ll be deep red.
There are just some areas a girl struggles to reach, and asking Phillip to help there too had been… well.
Better to burn.
I glance at my watch again. Phillip hadn’t been at the restaurant last night, after our boat trip. And this morning, the breakfast buffet had been as full as always… with him just as absent. It still feels like a crime not to indulge in that spread.
