“Sounds like clucking,” Maine said, joining her in the shade. “Like chickens.”
“There can’t be chickens out here,” Orchid said, though now that he’d said that, the sound definitely seemed chicken-like.
“Do you know how to build a shelter?” Maine asked out of the corner of his mouth as a huffing and puffing Tanner came up behind them.
“No clue,” Orchid said under her breath, hoping Maine hadn’t heard her. She turned to Tanner. “He’s kind of deaf, so what do you think that sounds like?”
He cocked his head, the dark hair falling into his eyes. “Sounds like chickens.”
Orchid almost scowled. “It can’t be chickens.” Just as she finished, a chicken strutted right in front of them. Orchid stared at it, and then looked at Maine.
“It’s a chicken,” they said together, and Orchid’s mouth actually started to water.
Maine whooped and laughed, sweeping Orchid right off her feet as he spun around. Sand sprayed out, and the warbling chicken squawked. Orchid couldn’t help laughing, though she knew that bird wouldn’t be making itself into chicken noodle soup.
Maine set her down and gazed at her. Something hot and instant sparked between them, and Orchid only had a moment to wonder what in the world was happening before Tanner said, “Uh, guys. You better get up here. You’re not going to believe this.”
Chapter Six
Maine looked at Orchid, and as one unit, they started into the trees. He’d been hesitating, because the chicken had freaked him out a little. A chicken. Maine wasn’t afraid of three-hundred-pound linebackers, but a five-pound chicken had given him anxiety.
He needed to pull himself together. Get his head in the game.
The air cooled out of the sun, and he jogged over to where Tanner stood, gazing at something. Maine could tell there was something not quite right about this area, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.
Until he stood next to Tanner and realized he was looking at a house. Or what used to be a house. A crude treehouse. But still. A house. On this deserted island.
“There have been people here before,” he said as Orchid arrived, somewhat out of breath. He continued to scan the area, and there were supplies here. A bucket. Rudimentary tools.
“Holy crap,” Orchid said, and that launched Maine into motion again. He strode forward and started picking through the things lying on a flat surface that may have been a table years ago. Many years ago.
It didn’t matter. There was wood here. The bucket didn’t fall apart when he picked it up. The spear fit in his hand just fine. A sense of wonder filled him, and he turned back to find the others had spread out and were examining things too.
“This is incredible,” Orchid called. “There’s a boat over here. It’s damaged, but it’s definitely a boat.”
Maine left the trinkets on the table and went to look at the boat. He’d just arrived when more squabbles filled the air. “I can’t believe there are chickens here,” he said, looking around for them. But the lower vegetation kept them hidden. “How do you think they got here?”
“I think this is one of the islands they used in World War Two,” Orchid said. “Remember how the United States had coast watchers on islands?”
Maine did not remember that. He had no idea that had happened, but he’d been more focused on sports than academics throughout his life. “Fascinating,” he said.
A new sound filled the air, and Maine cocked his head, not trusting his faulty ears. “Do you hear that?”
“I’m not deaf,” Orchid said. As soon as she said it, she sucked in a breath. “I mean, I’m sorry, Maine.” She threaded her fingers through his, and he squeezed her hand.
“It’s fine,” he said, smiling at her. “Honestly, I know I can’t hear.”
“You obviously can.”
“It’s hard when there’s a lot going on,” he said. “Music, chatter, noise.” He needed her to understand. “I swear I didn’t hear you say your name the first time we met.”
She blinked, those tropical eyes so mesmerizing. “You heard Amber.”
“Amber?”
“She waltzed up and said her name, and you said yours.” She ducked her head and toed the sand. “I got upset and stomped away.”
“I saw that,” he said. “I wasn’t sure what had happened. “I don’t remember hearing Amber. I think I saw her mouth move, so I assumed she’d said her name.”
Orchid looked at him again, and the whole world stopped spinning. He’d never felt like this before, at least not with a woman. Several times during games, time would slow and stop as the football flew through the air. Every breath in the stadium held while they all waited to see if the receiver would catch the ball or not.
“I hate to say it,” she said, her voice playful and flirty. “But you should probably get hearing aids.” She shrugged one shoulder like she didn’t care, added a laugh to the statement, and said, “I think that sounds like a pig.”
Maine turned as the sound got louder, and sure enough a wild boar came crashing through the undergrowth a moment later. He yelped, pushed Orchid behind him, and wished he hadn’t left the spear over by the tree.
“Holy mother of pearl,” he said, his heart hammering. “What do we do?”
“I’m not trained in how to deal with wild animals,” Orchid said, both of her hands clutching his forearm as she peeked around him.
The pig stood there and stared at Maine, his eyes a little beady and definitely wild. “No wonder the house is in the tree,” he said, refusing to check to see where Tanner had gone. Part of him wanted to be alone on this island with Orchid, and the other part of him was glad he had more help. Because he was so far out of his element, he wasn’t even sure he could survive the night.
A thunderous cracking sound filled the air, and Maine looked to the tree house to find Tanner yelling as he fell right through the floor of it.
“So much for that,” Orchid said, and Maine’s heartbeat crackled like the broken wood. Where would they sleep now? No way he could lie down on the sand and hope a chicken didn’t peck his eyes out while he slept.
No freaking way.
The pig darted into the foliage, and Maine started for the tree house. One, he needed to make sure Tanner was okay, and two, he felt safer where other humans had once lived.
“You okay, man?” he asked, extending his hand for Tanner to take. The other man lay partially on his side, his breathing coming quicker and quicker.
“He’s not okay,” Orchid said, kneeling beside him. “Tanner. Look at me.”
He did, thankfully, but the pain was etched all over his face.
“What hurts?” she demanded, her hands hovering above him. Maine couldn’t see any blood. His legs weren’t twisted underneath him. But Maine also knew that some injuries weren’t obvious to others—like his hearing loss.
“My back,” Tanner ground out between clenched teeth. “I had surgery on it eight weeks ago.”
“And you were working?” Orchid moved around to his back.
“I stood on a ship,” Tanner said, agony in every word. “I was fine.”
“Yes, well, you’re not fine now.” Orchid looked up at Maine, clear questions in her eyes. But Maine had no idea what to do to help Tanner. He’d seen plenty of guys get hurt and get taken off the field. The trainers and physicians wouldn’t let them move. They fed them painkillers and took x-rays and body scans and made statements to the press.
“He needs to remain immobile,” Maine said, crouching down. “There’s a table over here. We could use it like a stretcher.” He met Tanner’s eyes. “Okay, bro? Let’s get you on that, and then we’ll see what else we can do.”
“I have painkillers,” Orchid said, jumping ot her feet and rushing over to her backpack. Maine turned and cleared the rudimentary spoons and bowls and the bucket off the table. He dragged it over to Tanner and placed it behind his back.
“Can you lay flat?” he asked, putting one hand on Tanner’s shoul
der.
“Let’s try it,” he said, groaning as he rolled. Maine helped by pushing down his shoulder and shifting the table underneath him so he was all the way on it.
Tanner yelled, and Maine froze. Orchid had too, fear marching across her face. She shook it off and came over with a fist full of pills. “Take these,” she said, though Tanner was clearly in no shape to take the meds. He panted, and sweat had broken out along his forehead.
“Tanner,” she said in a stern voice. “Take these.”
He opened his mouth, and she poured the pills in. “Water,” she said, and Maine scrambled to find the bottle he’d been drinking from. It was with the discarded utensils, and he returned to find Tanner had swallowed them dry.
Orchid set to work plucking leaves from the banyan trees, and she returned to Tanner and placed them under his head. “You’ll be okay,” she said. “I know help is already coming.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, his eyes closed. “Don’t let me sleep too long, okay?”
Maine wasn’t sure they should let him fall asleep at all, but Orchid ran her fingers across his forehead and pushed his hair back in such a tender, maternal way that Maine didn’t say anything.
She met his eye, and she pulled away from Tanner quickly. Maine stared at her, sure there was more to her than she’d let on. “Are you a nurse?” he asked.
“No,” she said.
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m an administrative assistant for a flower company.” She wouldn’t look at him, and Maine didn’t like that. Not one little bit.
She walked over to the tools and surveyed them. “Bowls, spoons, a bucket.” She stacked everything in the bucket and picked it up.
“There’s a spear too,” he said, finding it closer to the tree trunk. He glanced up. “I was really hoping to sleep up there tonight.”
“We need shelter and water,” she said. “We can live on another couple of meals of protein bars until we figure out food.”
“There are chickens and pigs,” Maine said quietly. “They’re food.”
“Food that requires fire,” Orchid said.
“There’s plenty of wood here.”
“True,” she said. “Should we start with shelter?” She glanced over her shoulder to Tanner, and Maine did too. His chest rose and fell in an even pattern, and he hoped he wasn’t in too much pain.
“I’m going to check out the tree house,” he said, putting down the spear. “Just see how big it is. Maybe there’s part of it we can use.”
“We’ll never get Tanner into it,” she said. “He’s huge.”
Maine agreed, but he said nothing as he started up the decades-old ladder that had been nailed into the trunk. He poked his head through the opening to see the tree house was much bigger than he’d thought. Tanner had fallen through a section on the edge to his right, but there was still plenty of space up here.
“Come up,” he said to Orchid as he pulled himself up the last couple of feet and into the structure.
He tested his weight with each step, not wanting to fall the fifteen feet to the ground the way Tanner had. No, he hadn’t just had back surgery, but he could twist an ankle or break a leg, and that would be catastrophic for his career.
Just being out here was catastrophic for his career.
Frustration boiled through him, but he navigated the entire left side of the tree house without any problems. He could easily lie down up here, and so could Orchid. If they could get Tanner up here, he could too.
“Plenty of room,” he said when Orchid’s blonde head popped up.
“Is it safe?”
Structurally, yes, Maine thought so. But having her so close to him was definitely going to be oh-so-dangerous to his health. His heart seemed to do flips in his chest as she continued up and started gingerly placing her feet on the boards, the same way he had.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think it’ll be better than sleeping in sand,” she said.
Maine chuckled, glad when Orchid came to stand next to him. He didn’t dare go all the way over to the edge but stayed more toward the middle. He could still see out into the trees, and when he looked over his shoulder, he felt like he could see way out across the ocean.
He sighed as he lifted his arm and put it around Orchid. “So,” he said, unsure if he should venture into these waters. But he had to know. “You’ve been married before?”
She flinched but didn’t look at him. “Yes. How did you know?”
He wrestled with what to tell her. “You said something about your husband’s boat going under,” he finally said. “Back on the ship.”
“I don’t remember that.”
She’d been freaking out, but Maine didn’t need to point that out. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he said, kneading her shoulder closer. “But I think it’s pretty clear….” He let his voice trail into silence, because he was suddenly unsure what was so clear.
“What?” she asked, tipping her head back to look at him.
Gazing into those eyes, he found the courage he needed. “I like you,” he said. “I think we would’ve had a great cruise together, and I would’ve asked you out once we got back to land.”
A smile slowly spread her lips. “You think so?”
The powerful electricity crackling through him testified of it. “Yeah,” he simply said. He wanted to ask her if she could feel that charge between them, but he didn’t.
“Okay,” she said, snuggling into his chest. “I would’ve said yes. Probably. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Maine wanted her to look at him again, but she steadfastly kept her eyes out on the water. “You were on a singles cruise, Orchid. What was your goal?”
She didn’t answer, and Maine had just about given up hope that she would when she said, “I didn’t really have one.”
Chapter Seven
Orchid couldn’t seem to find the right words to tell Maine about Henry. And not only him, Tesla too.
“My boss said I had to take some time off.” She forced a laugh out of her too-tight throat. “It’s a funny story, actually. His father bought some gifts for a few of us at the company, but he didn’t realize the cruises were for StarMatch. My sister booked it before I could stop her, because she thinks it’s time for me to move on.”
Maine said nothing. Just stood a half-step behind her, his body warm and comforting.
“So I didn’t really have a goal,” she said. “I tried to mingle and go to the activities so I could tell Ivy I did. I was honestly expecting the whole thing to be miserable, and a big flop.”
“Well, it’s sort of that,” he said, his breath tickling her earlobe. “I mean, this island isn’t going to be a barrel of fun.”
Orchid knew that, and she nodded, glad when Maine’s other arm came around her as she shifted to stand more in front of him. Half of her cells were self-conscious, screaming at her to move away from him before he felt how many extra pounds she carried. The other half of her body wanted to stay right where it was, enjoy the prickling, tickling sensations of the sparks running along her skin.
She hadn’t felt this way for so long. Too long.
“I was married a long time ago,” she said. “His name was Henry. We were only married for eighteen months before his yacht sunk. He was lost at sea. I buried an empty coffin.” Orchid was aware her voice had dropped, and she hoped Maine had heard her. She didn’t want to repeat it.
“That’s terrible,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
And that wasn’t even the worst of it. She scrambled for the right words, and they simply didn’t seem to be there. “I had our baby six months later.”
Behind her, Maine tensed instantly. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I have a seven-year-old daughter name Tesla.” Desperation clogged her throat. “I have to get off this island, Maine. My child will not be an orphan.” She spoke with absolute conviction.
“We’ll get o
ut of here,” he promised, and Orchid liked the idea of relying on him. She’d only had herself for so long, and she’d failed so many times. Her family had been a great support to her, and she twisted into Maine’s full embrace.
“Tell me about your family,” she said. He’d kept her babbling about her sisters and their ordeals on the cliffs and off the coast of Maui for the boat ride here.
“I have two sisters,” he said. “One older, one younger. Honey and Diana.” He sounded a bit robotic, and Orchid pulled away and stepped back toward the tree trunk. She was aware Maine had not gotten too close to the edge of the tree house, where the railing was. He was cautious, and she had not expected that from the football celebrity.
“You’re freaked out about my daughter,” she said, taking in his face in one sweeping look.
“No,” he said, and he wasn’t a great liar either.
“It’s okay,” she said, though it stung a little bit, right behind her lungs. “I know it’s a lot to take in all at once.”
Maine searched her face, the seconds piling on top of one another. “I have a five-year-old nephew,” he said. “Kids don’t scare me.”
“Have you ever dated a woman with children?” She didn’t mean to sound so challenging.
“No,” he admitted.
“Do you want kids?”
“I mean, sure.” He shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it all that much, to be honest.”
“Focused on your career.” Orchid knew the type, and she turned away from him. “We need to get our water situation figured out.”
“Orchid,” he said, touching her upper arm. The skin there burned, but she didn’t pull away. He sighed like she was being difficult on purpose. She wasn’t, but she didn’t know how to flirt like Ivy. She didn’t have a carefree life. She had a job and a child and responsibilities.
And fear. So much fear.
“I have been focused on my career,” he said. “But recently, I’ve really wanted to find someone to spend my life with.” A hint of redness crept into his face. “For the last couple of years, I’ve tried, and every relationship has been a disaster.”
Stranded with the Quarterback Page 4
