by Sandra Cox
“I have no idea. He’s asleep so I haven’t been able to find anything out. The only thing I know is Gramps said he found him on the shore.” I cross my fingers with my free hand. I’m such a bad liar.
“On the shore?”
“Yeah, pretty wild huh?”
“I’ll say, but he’s all right?” I can feel anxiety thrumming through the phone.
“I think so, Holly. To be on the safe side, your parents might want to take him to emergency and have him checked out. Gramps says he’s going to be fine, but it wouldn’t hurt to confirm it.”
“I’ll pass the suggestion along. We’ll be right there. And, Piper?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. We owe you.”
“You don’t owe me a thing.” I end the connection before she can say anything more. Thanks of any sort embarrass me.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me how hungry I am. When I enter the kitchen, the aroma of fresh brewed coffee wraps around my senses like a lover’s embrace. Gramps stands at the stove stirring a pot. He’s been a busy bee.
“How do you think he is?” I pull out two plain mugs and pour a cup for each of us, so tired my hand shakes.
“He’ll be all right. He’s young and strong. Sleep will do wonders for him. Sit down and I’ll bring you some oatmeal.”
“Thanks.” My chair scrapes against the white oak floorboards as I pull it out and fall into it. I lift my cup then take a sip. Even the rich-flavored caffeine does no more than give me enough energy to eat the huge bowl of oatmeal Gramps thumps down in front of me, followed by a plateful of fluffy yellow eggs and light brown toast.
It’s a toss-up whether my rumbling stomach or my dragging fatigue will win out. My stomach wins by a hair. I inhale the eggs and toast, scrape the oatmeal bowl clean then stumble to my bed where I throw myself face down on the soft pink coverlet. I should check on Tyler is my last waking thought.
The screech of a gull wakes me. The room is lighter than when I fell into bed. Maybe the sun has come out. I tumble out of bed, pull back the curtain, and blink. The sky is a contented blue without a cloud and the sun shines bright in the eastern sky. I’ve slept through the day and night.
Hastily, I throw on my clothes, tuck my hair in a ball cap, push my glasses up onto the bridge of my nose, and trot down the hallway to the little guest room.
I open the door a slit and peek in. The sparrow chirps and ruffles its good wing. The bed is empty. The gray and white duvet smoothed neatly over it.
I make a quick trip through the cottage. Tyler is gone and so is Gramps. Though Gramps has at least left a pot of coffee for me. Still feeling slightly fragile, I doctor it with cream and sugar.
Taking one last look to make sure Tyler isn’t around, I wander back to my bedroom nursing my cream-laden java. Once in my room, I toss off the glasses, let my hair down, comb it with my fingers, and step out of my nerd attire, leaving the offending garments on the floor where they fall.
From my closet, I pull out a red-ribbed, sleeveless, fitted-tee and white shorts. I grab a bottle of Crimson Sunset nail polish, and carrying my coffee in the other hand, go to the small deck on the back of the house.
Listening to the happy chirp of birds, and the rhythmic lap of the waves, I paint my toenails, sip my coffee, and fall asleep.
“Piper. Mr. Dunn. Piper. Mr. Dunn.” I’m dreaming of Tyler. Telling him, even though he’s a great kisser, I can’t get involved with him. Along with the pounding, the voice becomes more insistent. Groggy, I open my eyes then jerk upright. “Oh, my God, it is Tyler.”
I leap out of the chair, run into the house, and throw on my nerd gear. Out of breath, I race to the door. He’s turning away. The old screen creaks when I open it. “What are you doing here?”
He turns and gives me a mega-powered smile that leaves my knees weak. “Shouldn’t you be home in bed?” I manage.
“I’m okay. Can I come in?”
“Sure.” I step back.
He stops inside the threshold. His first words take me by surprise. “You paint your toenails.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “So?”
“So, you have attractive feet.”
“Gramps said you nearly drowned. Your brain must still be waterlogged.” I try hard not to squirm.
“Possibly,” he admits. “But that has no bearing on the fact that you’ve got nice feet. They’re slender and perfectly formed.”
“Carlisle, do you have a foot fetish?” I narrow my eyes.
He laughs and seems sincerely amused. “No. It’s just that’s one of the few portions of your anatomy that’s visible.”
I hate these clothes. “You need to be home resting. You had a harrowing experience. I’m surprised your parents let you out of the house.”
“I snuck out.”
“You need to go back home and to bed.” I open the door.
Instead of walking through it, he leans against the wall, crosses his arms, and looks at me speculatively. “I do feel rather weak. Maybe I should lie down.”
I glance at him uneasily. These glasses make it difficult to see. But it doesn’t take too much effort to recognize the devils dancing in his eyes. “You certainly aren’t suggesting…”
“What?” he asks innocently, the devils still dancing “I’m just saying if you’re worried about me I can rest here.”
I heave a sigh and try to get my racing heart under control. I do my best to act put out. “You better go home.”
“I can’t help teasing you. You’re so easy to get a rise out of.”
“I knew that. There’s no way you’d want to go to bed with me.” The bitterness in my voice embarrasses me.
He takes a step closer. “You’re wrong about that,” he responds, suddenly serious.
I take a step back.
“But what I came for is to thank you and your grandfather for saving my life. You especially.” His gaze burns into mine.
I reach for the doorknob. “Gramps isn’t here. I’ll give him the message. But as far as me, I didn’t do anything.” I hold crossed-fingers behind my back.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll wait for your grandfather.” He says nothing about my involvement or lack thereof.
I sigh and motion him toward the small living room. “If you won’t leave,” I say ungraciously, “you might as well sit down. Would you like some tea?” I would offer other beverages, but I don’t like his color. He looks feverish and needs to be off his feet.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Sit.” I point in the direction of our living room. It holds a saggy old couch and a TV that still has a tube instead of the sleek LCDs.
“Yes, ma’am.” He salutes me and heads toward the living room.
I walk into the kitchen and heat the water. When the teakettle begins to whistle, I pour the boiling water over the tea bags then set the kettle back on the stove. Turning, I nearly land in Tyler’s arms. The sun shines through the kitchen window and casts a shadow across his face.
He places one hand on the counter and one on the cool portion of the stovetop, neatly trapping me in the corner. My heart pounds. I lift my chin and ask in what I hope is a cool voice, “What are you doing?”
“When I was in the water, a beautiful young woman rescued me. What do you know about that?”
“Maybe you hallucinated. That doesn’t sound possible, especially in that storm.”
“My sister told me you called continually trying to get hold of me to tell me not to go out. You knew a storm was coming before anyone else, even the weather station. How?”
I had an answer for that one. “Gramps’ knee. It always acts up when bad weather’s coming.”
“I’ll give you that one. But how did I get to shore?”
“How should I know?”
“Oh, I think you know all right. And I know how to prove it,” he murmurs, his lips a breath away from mine.
Chapter 8
I expect him to go for
my glasses and plan accordingly. But the sneaky boy angles his head below them and kisses me with the same expertise as before. My breath catches as he kisses the corner of my mouth then nips at the fleshy part of my lip before his tongue finds mine. The heat radiating from him takes on scorching proportions. My body limp, I cling to him.
The next moment, my swirling world coheres into one sharp sizzle of electricity and I kiss him back for all I’m worth.
I have no previous experience, his kiss yesterday my first, but I’m nothing if not a quick learner. I press against his hard frame and cooperate enthusiastically. I move my hands from his shoulder and wrap one in his thick silky mane of hair.
His breath quickens and he slides his fingertips along the side of my breast. I moan and lean in. His hot fingers slide under my top and caress my skin, scorching wherever they touch. He lowers them and cups my butt with both hands, pulling me hard against his body. Things are well on the way to getting out of control when he groans, drops his hands, and steps back.
He stares at me wild-eyed. The pulse in his neck is jumping. With unsteady hands, he reaches for my glasses. Reflexively, I slap his hands.
“I kissed you yesterday.”
I bite my lips together and take a moment to settle my thundering heart. “No, you didn’t.”
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His gaze does a slow slide over me trying to pierce through the clothes to the body below. He frowns. “I remember eyes of an unusual shade.” He snaps his fingers and smiles in triumph. “Turquoise. You have turquoise eyes. Why do you dress like that? Why hide those eyes? Are you afraid every boy in school will have cardiac arrest if they see you?” he jokes.
All I can do is brazen it out. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Have you seen a doctor yet, Carlisle? You must have hit your head when you went over. It’s causing you to hallucinate.”
He picks up my hands and plays with my fingers. “You can trust me, you know.” His voice is gentle, his eyes sincere.
The touch of his hands on mine nearly has me forgetting years of caution. I’m a mutant. The words hover on my tongue. The only way I can suppress them is too bite down. “Ouch!” The pain has me pulling my hands away and clamping one over my mouth.
“Are you all right?” His head tips forward and his eyebrows draw together.
“Fine. I bit my tongue,” I mumble behind my hand. “Really, I think you’d better go.”
“I was hoping to thank your grandpa.”
I know a stall when I hear one. “I’ll tell him for you.” I nudge him toward the door.
“No need.” He gives me that quirky grin that has the strangest effect on my pulse. Not to mention the pull in the pit of my tummy. “I’ll be back to thank him myself.”
My head drops momentarily in defeat. I sigh.
He leans in and kisses my forehead. The touch is as gentle as a butterfly kiss. “You can trust me, Piper.” Then, he’s gone.
“What, oh what, am I going to do?” My head in my hands, I stumble back to the patio and slump down in the lounge chair. I draw up my legs, wrap my arms around them, and drop my chin on my knees. This is exactly why I avoid involvement of any kind. “The sea creatures I rescue never hassle me. They don’t care what I look like,” I grouse.
The screen door creaks. “Talking to yourself, Pip?” Gramps asks. He trudges out favoring his right knee. The one the arthritis is the worst in.
“Tyler was here.” Glum, I take off the offending glasses and run my fingers through my hair.
“Oh?” Gramps arches bushy white brows and waits.
“He wanted to thank you.”
“A polite young man. I like that.” He nods. “Anything else?”
“He’ll probably be back to thank you himself.” I heave a defeated sigh and twist a wisp of hair near my face.
“You don’t sound in favor of that.” Gramps grimaces and shifts in the chair he’s just lowered himself into. He picks up his knee and straightens it.
“He knows.” In direct contrast to my gloomy mood, the setting sun is bright and warm. A squirrel, more in tune with my frame of mind, sits in a nearby tree, twitching its tail and complaining.
“I see. What are you going to do?”
“What I’ve already done. Deny.”
“How did he make the connection?”
Heat sweeps my face. I twist my fingers, my head down. “He kissed me.”
“Quite an enterprising young man. He figured it out from a simple little kiss?”
Simple? Right. My chest rises and falls. I heave a deep sigh. “He kissed me in the water. Then he kissed me in the kitchen. He’s convinced I’m the girl that rescued him.”
“That does complicate things.” Gramps rubs his knee. A seagull flies overhead crying in a harsh voice. For an instant, I wish I could join him in flight. I shake off the notion and straighten my shoulders. Piper Dunn, aka super-mutant, doesn’t run from trouble.
Gramps breaks into my thoughts. “Is he trustworthy?”
I whirl in my chair. “I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone.”
“I know, Pip, I know. But I won’t be around forever. I’d like to know there’s someone who’d take care of you when I’m gone, someone you can rely on.”
My body turns to ice. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be around a long time.” I force a laugh. “Besides, you think an eighteen-year-old boy could take care of me?”
“I was nineteen when I married your grandmother. That’s a year older than Tyler.”
Had I known that? I turn and look at him, my head cocked. “Yeah, but you were mature.” I wiggle my eyebrows and grin.
“Of course I was.” He lifts his chin then tips it and winks at me.
My cell phone rings. I grab it in relief. “Excuse me.” I jump up and head for the kitchen. The phone’s display makes me groan: from the frying pan to the fire. “Hello, Holly.”
“Oh, Piper. I want to thank you and your grandfather for saving Tyler.”
I heave a sigh. “I didn’t do anything. It was Gramps.”
“Whatever. My parents and I are very appreciative. Dad towed Tyler’s boat in. Once he gets it cleaned up, we’d like to take you and your grandpa on a picnic to one of the nearby islands.
“I still can’t figure out how Tyler made it to shore. It’s nothing short of a miracle. He doesn’t remember a thing. You know,” her voice rises in excitement, “I wonder if a dolphin got him to shore. You hear about that stuff all the time. Piper? Piper, are you all right?”
“Sorry, something caught in my throat,” I choke out. Yeah, a dolphin helped him all right. A mutant dolphin.
“So he said he can’t remember anything?”
“Yeah, weird huh? He says he doesn’t remember anything till he woke up at your house.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Tyler hasn’t sold me out. “How’s he doing?”
“He snuck out of the house for a while. He got back a few minutes ago. Mom made him go straight to bed. He’s planning on going to school tomorrow. Speaking of which, I got homework. I’ll see you then.”
“Bye.” I shove my phone in my pocket and wander into the bedroom to do my own homework. By the time the first stars come out, I’m finished and ready to check out my piece of the ocean.
I put on a copper-colored swimsuit then track down Gramps, in front of the television watching his favorite police drama. “I’m going out for a swim.”
“Be careful, the waves are still high.”
“Will do. Can I fix you a bite to eat before I go?”
“Nope. I think I’ll just reheat some leftovers. I can wait for you, if you don’t think you’ll be gone long.”
“No need. Though, I won’t plan on staying out unless I run into something.”
He nods, his attention already back on the show.
I walk over and kiss him on the cheek. What he’d said today about not being around forever s
cares me. There’s no need to point out, or linger on, the obvious. But, if and when something happens to Gramps, my whole world will collapse. My eyes well up. I turn and hurry out the door.
I trot down the little dirt path till I reach the tip of the cliff and dive off. Gramps is right. The waves are up. I gasp then close my mouth as I go deeper than expected, the water shocking me. I swim to the surface, push my hair out of my eyes, and chuff to open my blowhole.
Finding the waves’ rhythm, I begin to swim. Other than being high, everything seems calm. Blue ripples into turquoise. The waves enfold me like a mother’s arms. I roll over and over out of sheer joy. I swim about a mile out and follow the shoreline, my turf.
I’ve been in the water around an hour. Everything appears calm. I turn to head home when I hear the distressed sound of a turtle. I swim toward the noise in the cool dark. Stars wink in the sky and glitter on the water. A shark passes me but pays no mind. Its fin causes a silver ripple on the surface.
The noise grows weaker. I swim faster. A glimmer of movement catches my eye. A sea turtle is tangled in a fish net and slowly drowning. Under normal circumstances, a turtle can last hours under water before surfacing for air, but the stress of being caught in the net is quickly using up the creature’s oxygen supply. I pull a knife out of the scabbard strapped to my leg and cut the net.
Hundreds of shrimp scuttle to safety. The turtle tries to swim but her strength is gone. She begins to drop. I grab her fin and push toward the surface. I can see the moon’s reflection glistening on the waves just before I break through the water.
I get my arms around the hard wet shell and push upward. For many minutes, the turtle remains motionless. I wonder if I’m too late. Finally, her legs begin to move. I let go. She gives me a head butt of thanks before swimming away.
“Oof.”
Happy, I breathe in air, chuff, then dive down. I take one more turn around the bay before I head home. The night sky is filled with stars that spill out sparkling shards of light. But even without them the rod cells in my retinas give me better vision than most humans. Even so, it’s not until I pull myself out of the water and stand wringing out my hair that I see him.
