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I stand. Aqua waters spill onto the sand ahead. “We’ll see. Like those foaming waves—the truth will wash to the surface in the end.”
***
LIAM
No way. I angle a look at Trina, then at the twin jet skis sitting on the water. It’s a beautiful Nantucket day. Are there ever any bad days here? I’ve checked the weather forecast and it’s perfect temps and blue skies all week. But this puts a bit of a damper on the day. I knew they’d give us challenges to complete, but I didn’t expect this.
“You’re joking.” Trina plops her fists on her hips and glares at the producer like he has spikes growing from his forehead. “A relay race?”
“Yep.” The man is practically giddy. He rubs his hands together and then motions around us. “You ride the jet skis out to the buoy, go around the far side and over to the mini cat.” He holds up a finger. “You each must ride your own jet ski but work together to sail the cat. You sail it back here within the allotted time and you win a reward. An overnight stay on Nantucket Dreams, the finest yacht on Nantucket. It also comes with a luxurious dinner.”
“And if we fail?” That’s the part I’m worried about. Trina and I are both super competitive, but I’m not sure of her skill on the water. This whole thing could be over before we ever get started.
She shoots me a dirty look. Great. Add me to the list of people she’s mad at. This day will be so much better.
“If you lose, you spend the night camping. In a tent. With nothing to eat but baked beans.” The producer shakes his head side to side. “We don’t want that.” He’s playing it up for the cameras perched all around us.
I peel off my shirt and toss it onto the sand. Thumbs pop up from the surrounding crew, which I try to ignore.
Trina’s over there expelling long-suffering sighs like she’s sure it will annoy me. I smile and hold out my hand. “How about it?”
She puts her palm in mine and holds tight as we run into the waves. I boost her onto her jet ski and secure her life jacket.
“I’m sure we’ll get lots of likes for this wonderful fashion statement.” She points at me and glares. “Don’t fall behind.”
Well, okay then. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” I sling my leg over my jet ski and fire it up.
We set off at the same time and point ourselves at the red buoy bobbing in the distance.
All at once, Trina’s engine sputters. She veers hard right, going away from me. “Hey!” Her voice carries over the water in a screech. “This thing is busted.”
“You both have to make it to the cat on separate jet skis,” the producer shouts into a megaphone. Trina corrects her trajectory and zooms back toward me.
Too fast. Way too fast. If one of us doesn’t do something quick, we’ll crash. I push my jet ski to its limit and get ahead of Trina seconds before she cuts through my jet ski’s wake. That was close. Too close.
She slaps her palm against the handlebar. “Stop it.”
“It can’t hear you.” I circle around beside her. “Come on, let’s switch.”
“I’m telling you, this thing is broken. Every time I get close to passing you, it takes off on its own.” She glares over her shoulder, lasering the men on the beach. “They’re sabotaging us.”
“Nah.” I tug her closer and swing over behind her. “Go on. Take mine. We need to hurry and win. I’d rather not sleep in a tent tonight.”
She grumbles, but trades places and we’re off again. Foam spouts behind us as the jet skis fly over the blue water. I can’t find a single thing wrong with her jet ski. It rides as smooth as butter—well, as smooth as a jet ski can.
Trina zooms past me, a tight smile pulling at her lips. “First one to the buoy doesn’t have to cook dinner tomorrow.” Her laughter matches the bouncing rhythm of her jet ski.
I smile at the sound and ease off the gas so she wins. I’m a sucker for a woman’s laughter. Like most men, I can’t handle tears, but laughter gets me into all sorts of trouble. And Trina has a great laugh. It lights up her whole face, especially when she tips her head to the sun. For the first time, I see how free she can be when she lets herself forget about the cameras and has fun.
We round the buoy and aim for the cat. The smallish boat is similar to one I’ve used before, so I’m confident I can get us to the end under the allotted time.
I’m not sure how much longer we have.
I hop onto the mini cat and hold a hand out to Trina.
Her expression is a thunderstorm of annoyance. “Someone rigged that jet ski. The minute you hopped on, it drove fine.” She drops onto the side pontoon and crosses her arms.
“No time to pout.” I settle at the rudder and motion at her. “You need to man the lines. Keep wind in the sails.”
