by Elle Viviani
I glance out over the water again. Today’s definitely leaning more to the reckless side.
I’ve decided to call off today’s excursion when Koa comes out of the wheelhouse. Just the sight of him raises my blood pressure. On second thought, I’m not giving Koa the satisfaction of calling me chicken. Anything he does today, I’ll do better.
No, I’m not being catty. I’m being hardheaded. There’s a difference. I’m frustrated at him for going into alpha-mode in the bar last night and ruining our Fourth of July. I spent the night fuming on the back porch with Gramps and Gran, pretending that I had come down with some stomach bug, and trying to talk myself out of thinking that it was the hottest thing a man has ever done for me. It was reckless—not hot—remember? But when I replayed the whole sordid scene in my mind, I kept coming to same conclusion: Koa had acted protective. Even jealous.
I shake my head, knowing it’s a crazy idea. I saw him talking to Kimberly. I saw him grab her hand. He may pretend there’s nothing between them, but I know better. He must’ve given Kimberly some signals or she wouldn’t be hounding him like that. Koa’s hot and brooding—an alluring combo for any girl—but no girl’s that desperate.
I step onto the boat and stumble forward. The deck’s swaying wildly under my feet, like we’re already out at sea. The hard slap of whitecaps against the hull meets my ears. The skies may look peaceful, but the ocean is angry.
I lurch to side, but this time an arm slides around my waist and steadies me. Koa’s arm. “You okay?” he asks.
I flinch and step away, grabbing the railing for support instead of his brawny arms. “Fine, thanks.”
Koa frowns. “Alright. Is this a good idea?”
I stop and stare at him, thinking he means him and me for a moment, before realizing he means going out to sea.
“It’s fine,” I say, instantly taking the opposite stance.
“You sure?” he asks, looking out at the horizon. “I’ve seen clouds like that before…”
“It’s just a little rain,” I say with more confidence than I feel. I’m actually terrified, but I’m not about to admit that to him.
“It only takes a few seconds for a little rain to turn nasty out on the water.”
“I thought it was supposed to glance off the coast?”
He shrugs and gives me a very unhelpful look.
“Okay…thanks for that vote of confidence.”
“So, you’re having second thoughts?”
“Why, are you?”
Another shrug. I swear my mood gets worse with every shrug of that vexing man’s shoulders.
Don’t lose your temper, Summer. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
“We’ll be fine,” I say, casting off the first line.
“Maybe. But still…”
“Are you chickening out on me?”
He narrows his eyes. “Finish casting off. You’re taking forever.”
I roll my eyes at his back and do as he says. Soon we’re underway and out on the empty water. Very empty.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, peering around. It’s just us and another fishing boat when normally there are dozens.
I try not to shrink away as Koa comes up next to me. “I dunno, but I don’t like it.”
“Is it the storm?”
“Probably. And if it is…”
“What?” I ask, looking up at him.
He meets my worried gaze with cool eyes. “Then we’ve made a huge mistake.”
Koa was wrong, actually. We made a VERY huge mistake.
“I think we should go in!” Koa cries as the rain lashes down in hard and fast sheets. The wind picked up ten minutes ago, driving wave upon wave against our groaning hull.
I clutch for the railing as the boat heaves to the side, rising as it crests a wave.
“Hold on!” Koa scuds across the deck toward me, shielding his face against the driving rain.
“It came on so quick! We had no warning.”
“I know, and something tells me it’s only going to get worse.” He reaches me as the boat sways hard to portside.
“Koa!” I throw out an arm as he stumbles to the side, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and holding him fast as the boat tilts again. He grasps the railing next to me, his knuckles growing white as he clings on for dear life. The boat crests the wave and then lurches down, the bow hitting the ocean with a loud slap that reverberates throughout the whole boat.
We stand there for a moment, shaken and tense, before Koa straightens. “Thanks, Summer.”
The tension between us is gone. Nothing like a near-death experience to lighten the mood, eh? “Only doing my job.”
“But still, I owe you one,” he says in a low voice that sets fire to my core. Which is a good thing because I’m freezing. Between the rain and crashing waves, I’m soaked to the bone, and the gale-force winds aren’t helping settle my chattering teeth. At least I think they’re only chattering from the cold. It may also be from sheer nerves. I was scared shitless.
Koa looks into my eyes and frowns, no doubt seeing my fear. Of course, he’s cool as a cucumber in the tempest raging around us. “We need to get to the lines,” he shouts.
“What?”
He points to the long ropes affixed to the railing a few yards away. “Come here. I’ll tie you off first.”
Koa grabs my waist and pulls me to him. I go willingly, enjoying the warmth of his strong chest under my shaking body. My arms instinctively thread around his neck out of sheer fear and in an attempt to keep myself on my feet as he drags us along the railing. His brow is furrowed, eyes narrowed, and jaw clenched as he guides us through the storm, one arm around me and the other clutching the side. He’s determined, strong, and sexy as hell—and afraid, but not for himself. He’s worried about me.
I grit my teeth and try to stay on my own two feet. I won’t give him anything to worry about. I can take care of myself since he’s got enough to worry about between himself and getting this boat back to harbor. He doesn’t need a helpless girl to—
We pitch to the left as the boat hits another wave. I look to the stern and gasp as my heart drops. This wave is big—bigger than any that we’ve hit yet, which means the storm’s getting worse.
“Hold on!” Koa hollers above the howling wind. He presses me against the rail and plants his arms on either side of me, a lot like Mike did last night. Only this time, it’s to save my life, and this time, I don’t mind.
The boat climbs and climbs as it mounts the wave, tilting the deck up to a forty-five degree angle. “Koa!” I shout as my foot slips out from my under me.
Koa lets go of the railing with his right hand and grabs me, wrapping his steely arm around my waist and pressing me hard against his chest. “I’ve got you, Summer,” he murmurs into my ear as I clutch his soaked shirt. “Just hold on. Not much longer now…”
I close my eyes and press my cheek into his shoulder as the boat crests the wave. We’re suspended there for a moment, completely weightless, before the bow comes crashing down onto the water.
I yelp as my feet leave the safety of the deck. Koa grips me harder and pins me to him, steadying himself as the deck rocks and rolls underneath his boots. And then we’re on the way down like a runaway rollercoaster, slipping and twisting on the fast ocean current.
“I’ve got to get to the wheel,” Koa says, looking down at me with hard eyes. He sets me gently onto the deck before pointing to the line a few feet away. “Tie that around your waist before we hit another wave.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” He’s already moving toward the wildly spinning wheel. “Just be quick, Summer. The wind’s getting worse.”
I nod, watching him begin his haphazard journey to the helm. At least the wheel is out of the rain. Maybe I’ll join Koa there once I get myself tied off.
I grasp the railing and inch toward the line. It’s flailing wildly in the wind, having come loose from its holding, so it takes me a few tries before I manage to
grab it. I’ve tied myself off once before; Koa made me practice during our first week out. I remember nailing it on my first try, and thinking “This isn’t so hard!”, then never practicing again.
Well, that was a mistake. It’s nearly impossible to manage alone in pelting rain, forty-mile-an-hour winds, a rolling deck, and numb fingers.
I’m still fumbling around with the line when the deck begins to tilt up again. Oh my God, I know what that means…
We’re taking on another wave.
Koa
“We’re taking on another wave!” I shout above the roar of the ocean. I grip the wheel and glance over my shoulder to check on Summer. I hated leaving her like that, but the boat was out of control. Besides, she’s competent. She didn’t need me to hold her hand.
The breath leaves my lungs as I see her grappling with the line. Holy shit, it’s still not around her waist?
I punch in the coordinates for harbor, set the helm on autopilot, and wrench open the door. I run forward only to have my boots slip on the soaked deck. I wave my arms wildly as I try to steady myself, losing precious seconds that I don’t have.
I start forward again, but this time more carefully, clutching anything and everything I can get my fingers on to steady myself as the dock rocks and groans under me. My eyes are glued on Summer as she tries to tie the rope around her, but between her shaking hands and the rolling deck, she’s getting nowhere.
“Summer!” I shout, trying to get my footing as the boat angles upward. I’m only a few feet away. “I’m almost—”
The unthinkable happens. A second wave rides the first and hits our hull, sending the boat staggering to the side. The momentum throws me off my feet and onto the deck, but I’m able to grab onto the lip that covers the stairs down below. Summer’s not so lucky.
I watch with horrified eyes as Summer screams and goes over the side. An empty space and the line are all that’s left of where she stood.
The line…
She didn’t get it around her waist in time…which means she’s adrift…in the middle of a nor’easter.
I launch myself forward, slipping and sliding my way to where she stood a second ago. I grab the rail and lean over the side, searching the heaving waters with my terrified eyes. I don’t see her anywhere.
I’m about to jump in and search blindly when I finally spot her.
“Koa!” she yells, bobbing out of the water before being sucked back down. She resurfaces a moment later. “Koa, help!”
“I’m coming!” I yell as she fights to keep her head above the water. “Just hold on!”
I pull myself back as the deck shifts beneath my feet. A glance over my shoulder tells me we’re cresting another wave. Well, it doesn’t matter now because I won’t be on the boat to ride it out.
I turn, snatch the line out of the wind, and tie it around my waist, fastening it with a tight square knot. I kick off my boots, rip off my shirt, and climb the railing. What I’m about to do is crazy, but I don’t care. I’m not even thinking. I’m only thinking about one thing: saving Summer.
I launch myself off the boat and swan dive into the raging sea. The water hits my skin like a thousand pinpricks, numbing and electrifying every inch of my freezing flesh. I kick hard and thrust my body toward the surface, breaking through a moment later. I’m instantly swept under again by a wave. It takes me a few more tries until I’m able to stay above the surface.
The ocean currents are strong and wild, making it hard for me to stay in one place, as I start searching for Summer. “Summer, talk to me! I’m trying to—”
“Koa…” I hear to my right. Her voice is faint and weak, but all I feel is relief. Relief that she’s still fighting.
“Keep shouting!” I kick and crawl my way through the vicious current toward her voice. My muscles scream and burn as I fight to stay on course, but I ignore them, the sound of Summer’s voice growing louder, giving me the strength I need to push through the pain.
I shout her name as she comes into view. She was probably only a few yards from where I dove into the water, but it felt like miles in these wild waters. “I’m attached to the line, grab on to my back!”
I close the gap between us and pull her close, taking in her wild eyes and shaking form with anger and frustration—at myself. This never should have happened. Screw the boat, I should have stayed with her until she was secured.
Summer slides her arms around my shoulders and clings to my back. “I-I’m so scared,” she stammers through chattering teeth. “So c-cold.”
“Just hold on…” I kick out hard as I pull on the line. It’s slow going, and sometimes almost impossible, but eventually I’m able to pull us close enough to the boat to make our way to the back ladder. “Can you climb up?” I ask, my muscles searing in pain as I hold us both up.
“I-I can t-try.” She reaches out for the bottom rung and tries to grab it, but it slips from her fingers. She tries two more times before finally shaking her head. “My f-fingers…they’re n-numb.”
I nod, forcing down the helpless feeling that’s rising in my chest. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Hold on tight now…”
I lunge for the bottom rung of the ladder and grip it with my fingers, curling them around it until I’ve got a solid hold. I pull myself up to the second, then third without any problem. It’s not until the fourth that I run into difficulties.
The full weight of us both hits me when we leave the buoyancy of the water. I grunt as I drag Summer and me up one more rung, every fiber in my biceps and forearms straining under the effort. I kick out my legs and swing them up, catching the bottom rung with my right, then left foot. The going gets easier with each step I take, and in a few more seconds, I’ve carried us both up and over the side of the boat. We collapse onto the deck, shaking and numb—me from nerves and exhaustion, Summer from fear and hypothermia.
I draw myself on all fours and crawl over to her. I pull her clammy, wet body into my arms and hold her close, giving her my strength and warmth after what she’s just been through. It takes a few minutes, but soon Summer stops convulsing from the cold. She sighs, closes her eyes, and buries herself a little deeper in my arms.
I get to my knees, then feet, and carry Summer across the heaving deck into the wheelhouse. I slide the door shut behind us, check the heading, then slide down to the floor. The wind and rain lash against the wall at my back as I gaze down at Summer. So many poignant emotions crowd into my head all at once as I watch her chest rise and fall in short shallow breaths. Fear, relief, joy, regret, pain, happiness…
Love.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur into her ear, nuzzling my chin into her hair. “I’m so sorry, Summer.”
“Why?” she says hoarsely. Her eyes flutter open and meet mine.
“I never should have left you without tying you up first.”
“I should’ve been able to, but I didn’t realize my hands were numb.”
I clench my teeth. “And I should’ve realized that. I never should have come out here today.”
“Don’t do that,” she murmurs, closing her eyes again.
“Do what?”
“Beat yourself up for something that’s not your fault. It’s as much yours as mine.”
I look up at the wild sky and dark clouds; I hear the howling wind and shake my head. I know I should get to the helm and keep us on course, but right now, I just want to sit here with my girl cradled in my arms.
“Well, it’s never happening again. I’m never putting you in harm’s way.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she says softly.
“But I know I can keep this promise.”
Her face tilts up. “Why?”
I look down at her, her golden-brown eyes open and clear as she rests against my chest. “Because I’m never letting you go again, Summer Rae.”
19
Summer
“What about walnuts? Put them in or leave them out?”
Gran grunts in disgust. “Leave �
��em out. I know banana bread’s supposed to have them, but I never liked it.”
“Sure thing, Gran.” I stir the batter a few more times and grab the muffin tin. I slide in the muffin liners while Gran kneads her bread dough.
She stops to wipe her forehead with her frilly white apron. “This is quite the workout.”
“You doing okay?” I ask, coming up behind her. “Want me to take over?”
“No, no. I’m fine. Beside, you’re the one feeling tired today, remember?”
I duck my head from the embarrassment of my little white lie. This was supposed to be our first day back on the boat after the storm swept through, but when I woke up today, I knew I couldn’t do it. I just didn’t have the nerve to face Koa after what he said. And how he said it. And how he held me. And how it all made me feel.
So I told Koa I was still tired and stayed in bed. It wasn’t technically a lie. I’m always tired at 6am…
Alright, fine, so I’m hiding from my boss. Whatever. I’d rather be called a chicken than come to grips with what my heart is screaming at me. Than what Koa’s becoming to me. For the first time in my life, I’m not in control of my heart, and it’s scaring the bejeezus out of me.
“Summer, are you feeling ill?” Gran asks.
I snap back and realize I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen holding a batter-covered spatula. “Uh, I’m fine. Much better now.”
“Good. I was hoping all the baking didn’t tucker you out.”
“Are you kidding?” I glance around Gran’s spacious kitchen with envy. “This is my dream kitchen. There’s no way I could do this in my apartment. Maddie would kill me for making a huge mess, and my kitchen’s a quarter of the size.”
“A big kitchen was a must on my list when we moved here. A garage was your grandpa’s. We didn’t have either one in Rhode Island.” She holds up the dough to the light and stretches it apart. It must not pass her test because she throws it back down on the wooden slab and sprinkles it with flour. “Nope. Kneads more time.” She glances a me. “Get it?”
