by Casey Hagen
Corrine didn't just love color, she lived it. Every sketch had been carefully filled in with the hue of the stone she envisioned. Her designs ran the gambit, some delicate, others classic, and several bold. Each piece was a direct representation of her many facets. Delicate, classy, with her bright inner glow shining through.
Boldness—she had it. She’d simmered with it that night at Indigo. He caught glimpses of it at other times too. Shouting on the plane. Teasing him with those two impossibly small pieces of fabric she called a bikini. Giving him hell for what he had said to her. When he told her she was beautiful, and she demanded he show it.
She would be successful. He had no doubt. She just needed that extra financial backing to give her a measure of comfort to take the leap. So he would help her find it. He couldn't wait to watch her flourish. When the time came to stand up to her mother, he hoped she had the courage to do it. He wouldn't hesitate to call Lanelle out if she treated Corrine badly in front of him, but he wanted Corrine to do it for herself. He wouldn't be one more person in her life taking over.
Dressed and ready to go, he found her in the living room. She laughed to herself as she typed something on her phone. She wore a pretty yellow sundress with white daisies. Seeing her smooth, toned legs disappear under her skirt made his blood pump heavy. He squeezed in next to her, dropping his arm over her shoulders and pulling her in for a long, warm kiss. The sweet hint of hazelnut from her coffee lingered on her tongue as it danced with his. When they finally broke apart, they stared at each other, their harsh breathing the only sounds in the room.
He dragged a light finger down her chest, hooking it into the small gap at her cleavage. "Are you ready for an adventure today, Corrine Anderson?"
At the feel of her hands in his hair, he closed his eyes, savoring the sensation of her reaching out to touch him. So far he had been the aggressor, most of the time. It seemed the tide was turning.
"You've been my adventure." She pressed her lips to his neck much in the same way he had a habit of doing to her. The feel of her tentative lips on his neck had him clenching his fists to keep from pulling her over his lap, pushing her panties aside, and taking her right there on the couch.
Unfortunately, his tension sent her the wrong message. She pulled back with a worried look on her face. "I'm sorry. It feels so good when you do it to me. I thought you would like it."
"Don't misunderstand me, Angel. I love it, but I want it all, and it's a struggle to rein myself in."
"Oh." A pink flush rose on her cheeks as she smiled.
"Let's see what the day has in store for us." He pulled his phone out and opened the app. They waited, watching the spinning load symbol with their heads pressed together.
Pearl Diving
"When they say diving? They don't mean snorkeling, do they?"
"No." She gave him an inquisitive look.
"Okay." Fake it till you make it. Wasn't that the saying? Just the thought of being under the water with an oxygen tank, and its potential to fail, caused sweat to break out on his back.
"What's the matter? You don't look so good."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're lying to me. If you don't want to dive, just say so. I’m not even sure you can here in Fiji if you don’t have certification. I do. I don’t suppose you do, do you?”
"Technically, yes.” But that was before.
"But the idea of diving bothers you, so let’s do something else.”
"You parasailed. I'm diving," he bit out.
He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. Stroking his shoulder with a gentle hand, she asked, "You're afraid of diving?"
He sighed. "Not diving so much. Drowning. I'm afraid of drowning."
Her pretty arched eyebrows scrunched. "But you're not afraid of water. I don't understand."
He didn't want to think about it. He certainly didn't want to talk about it. He had to, though. It wasn't fair that Corrine revealed her fear of heights and tackled it just for him to clam up when the time came for him to do the same.
"I almost drowned when I was thirteen."
She gasped and dropped back down to the couch. "We'll do something else."
As much as his fear told him to grab the lifeline she threw to him, he couldn't. Diverting to safe territory was Corrine's MO. She needed to obliterate those bad habits if she ever wanted to succeed at her own jewelry line. Unwilling to be sucked into the pattern with her, he said, "No, we'll dive. You tackled your fear of heights. I can do the same."
"I had no rational reason to be afraid of heights. You have good reason to be afraid of diving."
"No! I'm not thirteen anymore. It's time to start looking at this like an adult and not that kid."
"Can you tell me about it?"
Sure. He just loved popping open a vein every now and then. "We used to swim at this local water hole, close to where I grew up. There was a small waterfall. We all took turns jumping in where the water poured in from the fall. The churning water would turn us over and over before bouncing us up above the water."
She tugged his hand, pulling him down next to her. He concentrated on the feel of her hand rubbing back and forth over his arm. "When my turn came, I jumped. I tumbled under the water fully expecting to bounce up, only I didn't. I was pinned under the crashing water and the water was too deep to push off the bottom with my feet." He took a deep breath, feeling the same crushing pressure in his chest as he had that day when his air supply ran short.
"I had just sucked in the first breath of water when my cousin Mark pulled me out." He could still feel the sharp pain. The unbelievable fear. The sheer panic that death would come slowly, torturing him for his last few minutes. He wasn't that kid anymore. People dived all the time. All of them fine.
He turned to her and saw tears in her eyes. "I can do this. You're a jewelry designer. This is the perfect adventure for you. I want to be with you even if it means I have to do this."
"I'll be right there with you the whole time. It's not too deep either, so you can reach the surface quickly if necessary."
"How do you know?"
"Pearl diving is one of the activities I looked into doing. The waters are pretty shallow. It's perfect for you to get over your fear."
He would force himself to do this dive with her. Get over his fear? He could never envision being comfortable underwater.
14 The Harvest
They chose a Fiji pearl farm in the Savusavu Bay. They arrived with the gear they rented from a local shop, since the pearl farm required divers to bring their own equipment. They required proof of certification which Corrine and Everett happened to have on them. He knew why she had hers. Right now, he was kicking himself for carrying his own. Even then, they had to prove proficient with the equipment before the rental shop would agree to rent to them. So he did it for Corrine. Most peopled opted to view the pearl farm through the glass-bottom boat tour, but he knew Corrine needed more.
She needed to connect with the bay that nurtured the pearls. She needed to see the colors, feel the water, touch the sand, and the black-lipped oysters that created some of the rarest, most colorful pearls in the world. Having full sensory experience would inspire the artist inside her. He wanted to see the spark light up in her again.
They took a private tour in a glass-bottom boat with a guide named Uri. Everett told himself over and over the water was shallow. He could do this. A knot of fear wound its way through his churning gut. He ground his fist against his stomach, trying in vain to massage it away. Although Corrine was in a spirited conversation over the seeding, growth, and harvest cycles, she reached for his fist, entwined her warm fingers in his clammy ones, and smoothed her thumb over his knuckles over and over. Soothing him. Taking care of him. Accepting him, flaws and all. Just like that, the parts of him resisting her rolled over to expose their underbelly, and he tumbled the rest of the way.
He loved her.
He kissed the back of her hand as the feeling settled inside him. When th
e boat came to a stop, Uri carefully dropped his anchor. Everett took comfort when the anchor hadn't dropped far and was still clearly visible in the serene bay. A series of rafts bobbed in the ripples fanning from their boat. According to Uri, each raft had tags with a series of codes that helped them keep track of when they were first grafted and when they needed to be harvested.
"Our harvesting season is typically in April and May, then again in October and November. We do have a raft that we haven’t harvested yet. It still needs to be, though."
Everett watched as Corrine lifted her sundress, and breathed a sigh of relief that she wore a more modest bathing suit this time around. The maroon suit hugged every curve, giving him something to focus on other than his rapidly beating heart and the urge to throw up his breakfast.
"Why wasn't the raft harvested with the others?"
"Toshi said they weren't ready. He told us we can harvest the last of them today or tomorrow."
"I know this is a lot to ask, but I'm a jewelry designer in the States. I'm hoping to start my own line. Do you think Toshi would be okay with us watching the harvest?"
Uri's dark skin spread in a wide smile. "Miss Corrine. For such a lovely lady, I'm sure Toshi would make an exception. I'll put in a call while you get your gear on. If he gives me the okay, I'll harvest now."
"Thank you!" She gave him a quick hug before resuming their preparations for diving.
"You ready to do this?"
Everett forced a smile. "I am."
She smiled and pulled him in, stopping short of a kiss. Her sweet breath mingled with his own. "I'm with you the whole way. Trust me?"
He pressed his forehead to hers, lulled by her comfort and the gentle rock of the boat. The tangy smell of salt water filled his nostrils as he took a deep breath. "Yeah," he whispered.
She kissed him and he took everything she offered like a starving man. Hooking his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him and tried to convey his feelings with every brush and stroke of their languid kiss. His fear, longing, love, and desire coiled tight as he savored, then devoured her. Her low, shuddering moan and Uri's knowing laugh were enough to have him pulling back, but she only let him go so far.
"You're really, really good at that," she said with closed eyes.
"Angel, you inspire me."
She shook her head and laughed. "Come on, Romeo, let's do this!"
They inspected their tanks again, although they had inspected them not an hour earlier at the rental shop. Safety first, right? After hitching their air tanks into their buoyancy control vests, they double-checked to make sure all the straps were tightly secured before hitching on their regulators through the yolk valve. They attached their backup mouthpieces and checked the pressure.
Counting to ten and breathing deeply, he clicked on his vest. He double-checked Corrine's tank position as she did his. Too soon it was time to hit the water.
She reached out her hand to him, and he took the lifeline she offered. "We jump in on the count of three, okay?"
He nodded, unable to utter a word. When she said three, he jumped. The warm water covered them both before they bounced to the surface. He slicked his hair back out of his eyes. Corrine's fingers worked fast to braid her long, wet hair over her shoulder. They had just pulled out their masks when Uri called to them.
"Good news, Miss Corrine. I told Toshi what you do. He said to harvest the last raft and let both you and your young man pick a strand of oysters of your own. We'll drop them off for harvesting and you both get to keep the pearls from those strands."
Everett would have liked to thank Uri, but he was too busy fending off an impending panic attack. He concentrated on his breathing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in…
"Thank you so much, Uri! That's so nice of Toshi and of you. Should we wait for you to join us?"
"No, you go ahead. I'll be along soon enough."
Corrine gave him a worried glance. "You can do this, Everett. I know you can. If for any reason something doesn't feel right, break the surface. Okay?"
He nodded and pulled the mask over his eyes and nose. Frustrated by his fear, he didn't look into her eyes. She pulled her mask over her face and slid in her mouthpiece. When he slid in his and took a few breaths to get used to the pressure, he returned her thumbs-up. She took his hand and they dove under together.
She swam at a leisurely pace, keeping her hand tight around his, staying close to the surface of the water. His heart raced, but he forced himself to breathe normally and tried to focus on the scenery around him. Rich vegetation dotted the ocean floor. Brightly colored tropical fish weaved and darted through the plant and sponge life, nipping here and there on the search for food.
Corrine turned to him and reached out to stroke his chin. He laid his hand over hers to show her he was okay. He nodded for them to continue. Spotting a stingray hovering over the soft sand, Everett pulled them down a little deeper, testing himself.
One step at a time, he let go of the tension, concentrating instead on the glide of the warm water, the ocean activity below him, and the woman holding his hand. By the time Uri made his way into the water, Everett had made peace with being underwater. Joining Uri at the raft, he made a motion for them to pick a strand.
Corrine dove beneath the strands of swaying black oysters. She took her time inspecting each strand and finally decided on the one in the middle. Uri handed her a tool and motioned for her to clip the strand. She wiggled her way under the raft and came out moments later holding her bounty. Everett could see her big smile around her regulator, and couldn't help but return a goofy one of his own.
After she handed him the clippers, he dove down and wound his way up through the strands, knowing, even before seeing, which one he wanted. He wanted the one next to hers. If he had his way, he would always be next to her.
He joined her with a strand of his own as they watched Uri efficiently clip and clasp strand after strand of black oysters. With his harvesting done, all three returned to the surface.
Uri stored his harvest in a holding tank on one side of the boat and theirs on the other to keep them separate. Everett boosted Corrine up with a hand to her backside, which really wasn’t a hardship. After pulling himself up, he shed his vest and mask just in time for Corrine to leap into his arms.
"I'm so proud of you!"
He laughed as she rained kisses over his face. Everett sat with Corrine in his lap as Uri turned them around and headed for the dock.
Corrine smoothed her fingers through his hair over and over. She probably thought her ministrations soothed him. They didn't. Every scrape of her neat fingernails shot straight through him, igniting fires within. He'd done well to reel in his libido for the past four days, but his patience was in short supply at this point. He pulled the elastic out of Corrine's hair and took his time unwinding the braid. He wrapped his hand around the slippery, wet locks of her hair and gave it a firm tug. She eyed him through heavy lids, her pretty mouth parted in surprise, and her chest heaving. She damn well was as affected as he, and it was about time they did something about it!
"Thank you." His voice thickened with arousal. He nipped at her perfect bottom lip, running his tongue along the edge. When he pulled back, her tongue darted out, licking where his tongue had been. His cock jerked in his pants.
"What are you thanking me for?" she asked in her sexy, breathy voice.
"For daring me to come with you." He ran his finger over her soft cheek. "For believing in me and supporting me." He tipped her chin up and slanted his mouth over hers. Careful not to go too far, he teased her tongue, sliding along the wet heat of her mouth, but all too soon, he pulled back. "For being the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"I've been a busy girl."
He threw his head back and laughed. "That you have, Corrine Anderson. That you have."
15 The Soul of the Oyster
When they pulled up to the dock, a stooped old man with a cane and a shock of white hair standing o
n end waited for them.
"Hang on, Corrine," Everett said.
She watched his easy grace as he stepped out of the boat and reached back for her hand. Used to the familiar shock of sensation that moved through her every time he touched her, she gave him a shy smile. On the dock, he entwined his hands with hers. He’d made her so proud with how he handled himself.
She agonized watching him struggle with his panic. Not wanting to call attention to it, she’d tried to soothe him as best as she could. Being underwater, where she couldn't talk to him, terrified her. What if he panicked and something went wrong? He was so big—what if she wasn't strong enough to help him?
Her anxiousness didn't ease until he dove deeper and the stingray swam past. Then, and only then, did she relax and enjoy the experience. She sensed the magic of the moment when she sifted through the heavy strands of oysters. She never expected she would harvest her own pearls. Her mind was already spinning with ideas for new jewelry, with whatever pearls she might discover.
"Miss Corrine, Mr. Everett, this is Toshi." Uri gestured to the old man with wise eyes.
Toshi reached out a hand, first to Corrine and then to Everett. He waved an arm in the air. "Come. You bring your harvest. We show you how we extract the finest gem of the ocean."
They followed Toshi into a lab with sparkling tables covered with white cloths and a variety of metal instruments. Clamps mounted on rods stood in the center of each station with bright lights hanging above them.
Uri set the buckets, each partially filled with salt water, on the two closest stations. He unhooked an oyster and used a small, flat wedge of metal to pry it open. Corrine winced.
"We only open the oyster as far as we need to in order to extract."
"What happens to the oysters after?"
"Most of the time, we’d seed them again while they're open and return them to the sea. These oysters are in their third cycle. After we extract from them today, we take them back to the bay and release them. They'll live out their lives there."
