by Nicole Snow
Flint’s eyes reach up inside me, douse me in flammable honey, and make me want to come on the spot.
My grip loosens on his huge arm. I almost let go, sinking beneath the water. But Bryce breaks our moment, scoring a direct splash-hit on his dad.
He tries his best to evade the splashes Flint sends his way, so I leap up and grab the top of Flint’s head, wrapping my hands around his huge neck.
Big mistake.
The way we’re positioned face-plants him right into my boobs. That ache in my nipples goes to eleven.
Uh-oh.
I try ignoring it with an awkward laugh, throwing my weight into pushing him underwater. He finally goes down, but I get the sense it’s because he let us win.
Bryce cheers so loud I think Savanny’s nearing his limit for paddleboard fun. The cat gives me a look with his ears back that’s so over-the-top I just laugh.
We tread water, casting smiles back and forth, waiting for Flint to surface.
Our cheering slowly dies as we glance around. No sign of him yet.
“Flint?” I say, growing nervous.
“Dad?” Bryce echoes.
Flint pops up behind him then, several yards away, laughing. “Got you!”
Bryce laughs, but I don’t.
“That wasn’t funny!” I shout at him.
Whether it’s pure relief or the afterglow of that totally-didn’t-happen sexual depth charge, my legs turn to rubber.
I try kicking them harder, to stay above the water, but they’re too sluggish to do much good. It’s like my feet turned to lead. A shiver of panic ripples through me as I slip under.
I manage to surface, throwing my face up toward the dull light, but only long enough to catch a breath before going under again.
Oh, God.
It’s not working.
My panic grows. My arms and legs don’t want to cooperate. I don’t understand what’s happening, I’m not a swim team superstar or anything, but I don’t think I’ve ever—
Something grabs my waist, effortlessly propelling me up to the surface.
I cough, sputtering and gasping for air, slowly realizing I’m clinging to Flint.
“Val, you with us?” he growls, concern prickling his voice.
“Yeah,” I nod. “Sorry. I-I don’t know what just happened.”
“Too much excitement,” he says with a wink. “You’re still healing. Hang on and relax, I’ll swim you back to shore. Yo, Bryce, let’s pack it in. Almost nightfall!”
I release my hold on his neck, steadying myself against his shoulders. “I’m sure I can make it.”
We’re face-to-face again, his eyes shining like stars.
Oh, right. There’s that tingly burn, rippling up my body like a warm lashing of tongue.
Was it really just sheer overload causing my freak-out?
Or was it getting too close to this beautiful man while I’m wearing far too little?
“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll make it, too,” he says, keeping his tight hold on my waist. “I’m not letting go till your feet are firmly on the sand.”
Knowing there’s no argument with the protective drawl in his tone, I do my best to swim and support myself, but honestly? He just hauls me all the way to the shallow waters, making me feel like I’m being carried by a giant. When we reach the end, he lifts me out of the water and carries me to the lanai.
Bryce and Savanny are already waiting. I see the teenager waiting in the lounge chair with a towel when Flint lowers me down on the one next to him.
“Everything okay, Valerie?” Bryce asks, jumping up to help drape a towel over my shoulders.
Of course the boy’s a total chip off the block in the sweetness department.
He’s guaranteed to ruin some pretty girl someday.
“I’m fine,” I assure them, feeling embarrassed by causing such a scare. “Thanks for the towel. And the ride.”
I glance at Flint as he grins. “Just as long as you’re not wolfing down more crap sandwiches. Think you’ve had plenty of those lately.”
Smiling, I shake my head. “Nope. New diet.”
“She’s just worn out from all that’s happened,” Flint tells Bryce. Shaking his head, he says, “My bad. I should’ve known better than to push it. Only been a few days since Cash said to take it easy.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I had fun. I’ll live and learn.” I hope so, anyway.
It’s not like I can just blurt out the truth. How I maybe short-circuited because he turned me on like a Christmas tree. Who knew a girl could OD on blue eyes and muscles built to shame an angry god?
So I shake my head. “Please, guys, don’t worry too much. I just—”
“You just sit and rest,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I’ll work on supper so you can eat and turn in early.”
That actually sounds lovely.
But jeez. All this attention, everybody treating me like I’m made of glass, makes me more embarrassed.
“Really, Flint, don’t stress. I’m still in one piece. I didn’t get eaten up by a shark or anything, see?” I pinch myself for dramatic effect, hoping the phony, exaggerated grin on my face sends a message.
“I’ll stay out here with her, Dad,” Bryce says. “So will Savanny.”
As if on cue, my little monster rubs his slick fur against my foot, staring at me with those huge eyes. His whiskers twitch as he lets out a shrill mew!
Just great. Even my own cat looks like he’s worried I might drop down dead.
Flint reaches down to stroke Savanny’s head, then ruffles Bryce’s hair on the way up.
“Thanks, boys.” Then he looks at me. “You want something to drink? I brewed up a fresh pitcher of that mango stuff I know you like.”
Before I can respond, Bryce goes sprinting for the door. “I’ll get it!”
Still flustered, I fold my arms.
“Didn’t we learn anything back there? Two against one isn’t fair,” I say, putting on my best fake pout.
He grins, and my heart does a somersault. He’s so good-looking it’s surreal. Even when he’s fresh out of the sea, his hair still a short mess blown by water and wind, he could be any red-blooded woman’s man-sicle on a hot Hawaiian day.
Ugh. His first wife must’ve been certifiably insane to ever let him get away.
If things were different, I sure wouldn’t.
Right now, though, jumping in bed with a strange man I thought I was married to is as far away from what I need as the moon from the earth. What kind of man wants a woman who can’t remember last month, anyway?
Bryce returns shortly with a glass of that decadent mango tea while Flint heads inside to cook. I heave out the air in my lungs, smile at Bryce, and take the drink.
He sits down on the chair next to me, petting Savanny, who jumps up beside him. We start chatting about all the things he’s read about cats on the internet. He tells me he plans to do a science paper on it when school starts again.
Ten minutes in, I wonder if the boy’s heading for a career in feline zoology. He’s a little Bryce-opedia and, I have to admit, pretty interesting.
I’m amazed he remembers so much from reading a few articles and watching YouTube.
He’s a smart boy, a kind one, and I thoroughly enjoy visiting with him. We’re still talking when Flint comes outside and tells us he’s got dinner on the table.
Okay, fine. So I’ll admit it.
I’m a very lucky woman, staying at the Chateau Calum, amnesia and all. The company certainly couldn’t be better. Or the accommodations.
It’s the best place a girl could hope to unwind while she’s got pissed off hitmen hot on her trail.
The conversation continues inside. We chow down on this scrumptious chicken with a Hawaiian barbecue glaze over it, plenty of sauteed veggies, and some garlic rice on the side.
My own appetite surprises me. I’m fit to pop open by the time I drain another glass of water and get up from the table, thanking Flint for the tenth time.
> I help clean the kitchen—something I insist I’m healthy enough to do—and we retire to the living room where we watch a movie. They watch it, technically.
I can’t say what it’s even about because I’m spending more time watching them. Bryce curls up in the leather recliner with his legs up and Savanny purring on his lap. The furball trades places halfway through the film for my familiar warmth. Flint lounges on the sofa, on the other end of it from me.
Everything has changed in the past twenty-four hours.
Last night, we sat here alone, watching movies through my illusion. I thought I was happily married to him then, wishing my memory would come back because I wanted to remember everything about him.
Now, I know better.
I also know I don’t ever want to forget anything about him or his son.
They’re good people, and long after this is over, I’ll remember everything about them.
It’s often said we don’t always remember the good people say and do. But there’s no forgetting how they make us feel.
Maybe it took this amnesia hell to make me understand. But I can’t imagine going through life without being more attentive, more grateful for the people willing to soothe my heart instead of stomping all over it.
Even now, most of the stuff I remember comes because I feel it. And those feelings are ugly.
I can’t imagine that’ll ever happen with my memories here. It’d take a lot to sour me on this man and his delightful little boy.
“Hey, Bryce Crispie. You’re falling asleep,” Flint says sometime later.
“Nah.” Bryce’s eyelids flutter open and he lets out a gaping yawn. “This show’s just boring.”
“Nope. You’re so tired you already missed all the sharks with laser beams and chicks in bikinis,” Flint says, turning to me. Joking, he mouths.
Bryce sits up a little straighter and grins. “Just a little tired, Dad. Maybe.”
“Why don’t you head on up to bed? It’ll help you get back in the groove with your summer swim lessons,” Flint says. “Take a minute to shower off the sea water.”
“I will.” Bryce pulls the lever on the chair and sits up.
The noise wakes up Savanny, who darts off my lap, going over to him.
Looking at me, he asks, “Mind if I leave my door open tonight? He can sleep in my room if he wants.”
Impressed that he asked, I agree, “Sure. He’s taken a shine to you, and it’s probably better he comes and goes as he pleases. Might minimize the crazy nocturnal acrobatics cats do.”
“Yeah, he’s cool. Think he likes me,” Bryce says, extending a few fingers for the cat to sniff.
“As much as you like him?” Flint asks.
Bryce’s face goes flat.
“Uh, I hope so. That’s a weird question, Dad.” Grinning, he says, “Night, guys.”
“Good night,” I call after him.
“Don’t forget to shower,” Flint reminds him again. “You’ll end up itching all day tomorrow if you don’t.”
“Okay, okay, I’m on it,” Bryce says, heading for the stairs.
“I’ll be listening,” Flint says.
I frown at him.
“I know!” Bryce answers, disappearing down the hall.
Flint shrugs. “For a kid who loves the water, he went through a stage where I damn near had to force him to get in the shower a few months ago. I don’t remember being like that. Then again, I didn’t start spending half my time in the water until I enlisted.”
I laugh, casting a skeptical look his way. “Oh, you think so, huh? Ask your mother, you were probably just like him at one time. I’m sure it’s a phase most kids go through.”
“Yeah? Did you remember you’re a child shrink, too?”
It’s my turn to shrug. “Who knows. Sounds a lot more believable than freaking turtle tours.”
He laughs so loud I can’t keep my annoyed face on. I start snickering along with him.
“I don’t see it, Val,” he snorts. “You running after kids all day? Nahhh.”
I straighten up, tossing a pillow at him. “What makes you say that? I love kids!”
He catches the pillow with zero slip. Ass.
“Just a guess,” he tells me.
I lift my chin. “Yeah, well, when I get my full memory back, you’ll be shocked to learn that’s exactly what I am. A child psychologist. That’s the proper term with all its syllables.”
He laughs harder. “You’ll be just as shocked as me. I’m thinking you were some hot little English teacher with your syllables and shit.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. He’s too good at pressing my buttons.
“You’re right about one thing: I’d be shocked.”
He clicks off the TV. I watch with a confused look as he gets up and creeps slowly across the room, then halfway down the hallway.
“I’m listening for the shower,” he whispers back.
For a second, it’s dead silent.
Then we hear the water running.
I shake my head, trying to avoid another outbreak of laughter. “Maybe you’re the child expert, Mister.”
He gives me a smug grin.
“I mean, a conceited one,” I say, laughing again.
“Nope. Just a father, babe,” he tells me.
“Of a really good kid,” I say, finally easing up on the crap I keep dishing out. “Seriously. You have a lot to be proud of with Bryce.”
“Thanks. Every day he’s happy and breathing is thanks enough. In a few more years, I’m sure he’ll go far.”
“You should be proud of yourself, too,” I say, flicking at my hair, hoping my cheeks aren’t turning into beets. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“Maybe so. In this case, I hope after he’s done falling, he rolls downhill to a happier place than my hill. All I’ve ever wanted for my son.”
I don’t want him to think I’m still teasing. “You’ve done a great job with Bryce and with your life. It shows. I’m grateful Cash brought me here.” Here comes the guilt again. I pause, clearing my throat. “But...well, I’m still really sorry for pulling you into my family’s crap. Sorry you felt you had to go to such extremes to make me feel comfortable.”
“The whole fake marriage story? Forget it, honey, already water under the bridge.”
I nod limply. It should sting less than it does to hear him still calling me honey. But he does it with this weird easiness that almost feels right.
“That was Cash’s idea, remember? I went along with it because I thought we’d crack the case in hours, maybe a couple days. We’ve rescued whole groups of people in under forty-eight hours in the past. But it’s damnably hard getting to the bottom of this case. There’s no rhyme or reason why anyone would want to hurt you, or why you were on that ship.”
I look up, wishing I had his certainty. “How do you know, Flint? You don’t know who I was or what I was doing. I could’ve been a terrible person, just like—”
“No. Not like your fuck of a brother,” he growls, his eyes turning to slits. “You wouldn’t have drawn him roaring in your face if you were tight with him, waist-deep in illegal shit. Trust me, I’ve been working on it since Cash brought you here. Your family has their hands in the muck, something underhanded. But you don’t.”
“We can’t know that,” I say. Goosebumps take over my arms.
“Val, the whole reason you’re here must be because you got in the way.” He pauses. “Think you tried throwing a wrench in Ray’s gears and almost paid the price.”
It’s my turn to pause before I ask, “So will you tell me what you’ve found out about what’s going on? What’s caused all this trouble?”
He stares at me for a second, his eyes lit like dancing blue flames, then shakes his head. “Not yet, babe. Soon.”
“Why? The amnesia? You’re afraid I’ll just—”
Flint stands up taller, this dark, imposing knight. “Because. I don’t think it’ll help you right now. You could’ve fucking drowned
today, babe. I’m not gonna be the man responsible for blowing up your head so bad you have another accident. You’ll know when you’re meant to. You’ll remember. I’m trying to help.”
I can’t say his response makes me mad, but it does make me curious. “Yet, you thought a fake marriage would be the ticket for a trip down memory lane?”
“No, I never thought that. The only reason I went along with Cash is because you were hurt. You needed time to heal, and how waking up in a stranger’s house scared you half to death. I saw how you were. So when Cash mouthed off like a royal idiot and said that shit, I went along. Couldn’t stand the thought of messin’ you up more.”
God, does he hear himself? Doesn’t he know those broad shoulders, those hellfire eyes, those conflicted, throaty words mess me up in ways I can’t even contemplate?
“Messed up. Right. So I guess that’s why you kissed me.” I bite my tongue. Too late. It’s already out of my mouth.
“That was a damn mistake. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Lovely. I pinch my lips together.
It shouldn’t so much, but it stabs at my heart anyway.
I don’t want to be a damn mistake, but...
But, holy hell, I don’t know what I want to be.
“You’re right,” I mutter.
He stands up taller, stretching his arms over his head, then lets out a yawn. “Fuck. It’s been a long day. We should probably turn in, too.”
“Probably,” I agree, dreading what kind of dreams a day like this is bound to leave behind.
I’d woken up this morning believing I was flipping married.
And if I wasn’t so brain-stuck, I would’ve gone right along with him when he’d said I had a stepson, too.
But I hadn’t.
Bryce was a bridge too far, something I knew I’d remember. Then again, being married to him should’ve been a dead giveaway. Just how gullible am I?
When I get up, I realize I’m still wearing my swimsuit under the sun dress I’d thrown on before dinner. “I think I’ll shower first,” I tell him.
“Good idea. Sleep tight, Val,” Flint says. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Um, hey, wait...” I’m halfway across the room before I pause awkwardly. It dawns on me that we’d shared the bed the past couple of nights. His bed. “Is there a guest room I can use?”
