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“Cocoa—”
Splash.
Bubbles rush past my face, and cool salt water probes between the strands of my hair. I’m wide awake, zinging with a sudden rush of energy, and when I laugh underwater, the sound is warbly. A giant laugh-bubble rushes to the surface.
An arm plunges in after me, plaid sleeve soaked to Mac’s skin. He snatches for me, and I nip his fingertips, then swim away. If he wants me, he’ll have to catch me first.
When I break the surface between two boats, I splutter and cackle.
Back on the jetty, Mac shakes out his soaking arm, not amused. “Get back here.”
I try to splash him, but only soak his feet. “Make me.”
“Cocoa, I swear to god—”
“What will you do?” My lips are salty, and my cheeks ache from grinning. Everything has been so serious, so scary, so unsettled lately, and messing with the harbor master is my favorite pastime in the world. It makes me feel lighter than air. “How will you punish me, Mac? Put me over your knee?”
My rescuer pinches the bridge of his nose. His chest heaves as he draws in a deep breath, and he can pull the long-suffering act if he likes, but he’s not fooling me. I see that bulge. He likes this game too.
Bet my white undies have gone see-through. Time to find out. I splash my way back to the jetty, brace on the wooden edge, and kick my feet hard to launch out of the water—
Thunder.
Darkness.
The memory hits me like a slap, sends me reeling backward, and I’d topple back into the water if Mac weren’t lifting me up. He sets me on my feet, then grips me harder when I sway.
“Cocoa?”
The ocean was freezing that night, and so rough. There were no stars. By the time I fought my way into the marina, my limbs felt like lead, and my voice was hoarse from screaming for help—
“Cocoa.” Big hands brush my hair back and tilt my chin up. They trace my jaw. I swallow hard, staring into gray, worried eyes.
I’m back…
I’m back in the moment. Back in my body.
My soaked, basically naked body. With a gulp, I glance down at my bra. Two rosy nipples shadow the fabric, beaded from the cool water. It doesn’t seem so funny anymore.
Mac follows my gaze, then goes still. His hand is on my neck; the other on my shoulder. His tongue flits out, wetting his bottom lip. “Are you alright?”
He sounds wrecked.
Dragging his eyes back up to mine seems to cause him pain.
“Yeah.” Though a minute ago I wanted nothing more than to tease him, now I just want a hug. And here’s the proof that Bill ‘Mac’ McLaggen is a good man, because he senses the change in my mood, despite my soaked, see-through underwear, and when he pulls me against him, it’s with nothing but care.
“Did you remember something?” He cups the back of my head, rocking me from side to side. The lie’s out before I can stop it.
“No.”
Because maybe it makes me a coward, maybe I’m a liar and a fool, but… getting my memory back means leaving Mac. It means going back to my real life, and leaving the harbor master’s cottage. Losing the safe, warm feeling I have around this man.
For weeks I’ve wanted my memory back.
Now I’ve never feared anything more.
* * *
