by Meghan March
“Fine.”
Eduardo backs away again with our empty glasses and returns to the bar to hand them off to Andreas before disappearing into the kitchen.
“Anything else you haven’t mentioned?” I ask, wondering if I’m going to be able to handle the answer.
Dane’s thumb brushes the label of the bottle where it’s beginning to peel off. “A few things.”
His dark brown gaze meets mine, and he’s quiet for several moments while he assesses me. It’s like he’s not sure I can handle whatever he’s going to tell me.
None of the possibilities flipping through my head are ones I want to be real. Until he mentioned the name of another woman, it never even occurred to me that there could be someone else. That there could be another reason for him saying we have ten days to figure this out.
“Does this Arianna have anything to do with why you’re considering ending our marriage? Do you have feelings for her?”
Chapter 13
Dane
Kat drops the question on the table like a bomb, and the fact that she’s even asking it pisses me off.
My eyes narrow on her. “Is that what you want to hear? That there’s some reason other than the ones we’ve already discussed that got us to the point where we sat next to each other on a plane today and talked less than perfect strangers would?”
Hurt flashes across Kat’s features. “No. But if you’ve crossed the line—”
I hold up my hand and silence her with the absolute truth. “No, I haven’t crossed the line. I haven’t even fucking thought about crossing the line. The only woman I want is sitting in front of me, looking for a reason to blame anyone but ourselves for how we screwed this up. This is on us, Kat. Both of us. No one else.”
My voice rises. I’m ready to lay it all out when a giggle precedes the entry of another couple into the restaurant, and I go silent.
A tall man with dark blond hair and tanned skin leads a dark-haired woman into the dining area. She’s wearing heels more fit for a runway than the wooden walkways outside, and her dress looks like it’s meant for clubbing rather than chilling on an island in Belize.
Kat’s attention shifts to them, and she shrinks back into her chair. She’s the most confident woman I know when it comes to business and work, but that self-confidence has never extended beyond that. She doesn’t realize how fucking beautiful she is, and it’s maddening to me.
I never would have thought the Arianna thing would wring that kind of reaction from Kat. Maybe if she had paid attention to anything I said, it wouldn’t be an issue right now.
The couple takes a table about ten feet from us, which annoys the shit out of me. There’s an entire restaurant available, and we could both have relatively private dinners if they’d chosen one on the other side of the room, but they don’t. There’s no reason for them to sit by the windows either, because it’s full dark now and there’s nothing to see except the tiki torches stuck in the sand on the beach between the palm trees.
Kat drops her attention to her drink and polishes off the second one.
I have a suspicion I know exactly where tonight is headed if she keeps drinking—she’ll be passed out within ten minutes of getting back to the room. She can handle her wine and martinis, but anytime there’s a tropical mixed drink, the sugar combined with the alcohol puts her in a coma.
Eduardo returns with the guacamole and plantain chips, and Kat lifts her glass into the air. “Can I have another?”
Called that one.
“Of course, ma’am. I’ll also have your dinner out shortly.”
He returns to the bar with her glass while Andreas settles in the other couple. The man is seated facing me, but his eyes have been on Kat since he sat down.
A deep burn starts in the pit of my gut. Maybe my wife isn’t the only one with jealousy issues while she’s feeling less than confident in where we stand.
He’s slick. I can’t place his heritage. Something European—maybe Spanish or Portuguese or Italian. Shit, even Greek with that darker, olive complexion. I can’t place him until I hear him speak. My accent identification is pretty solid, but my brother’s was better. He was the language junkie. Spoke four, and that was before he learned Arabic when we joined the Army.
As always, thoughts of him rip through me about as subtly as the IED that tore through him.
My life would have been completely different if he hadn’t died. I would have stayed in the service. I wouldn’t have ended up in South America, trading the desert for the jungle with Rome Hennessy’s crew.
I wouldn’t have met Kat.
But I guess that’s how it works. Sometimes the darkest moments in life set us on a course to find the brightest ones.
My philosophizing comes to a quick end when Kat shifts in her chair and her dress strap slides down over her shoulder, onto her arm. The asshole at the table behind us drops his gaze and trails it over her skin like she should be on the menu.
It’s been a long time since I’ve thrown punches in a restaurant, but I’m willing to make an exception if he doesn’t . . .
The man must feel my angry attention on him because he shoots me a look and gives me a small nod. I choose to interpret the nod as sorry, I fucked up staring at your woman.
Eduardo picks that moment to return carrying a tray loaded down with two large plates and Kat’s drink.
“Here you go, ma’am. And your lobster.” He sets the drink and then the dish in front of Kat, and the scent of butter and lime hits my nose. “And your snapper, sir. Now, if you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Kat smiles up at him sweetly, but I see the strain behind it now. “Thank you so much. It truly looks delicious.”
Eduardo returns her smile and steps away to collect his tray.
Kat digs into her lobster, and silence reigns at our table as we both eat. I keep one eye on the asshole at the table behind us while he orders snifter after snifter of liquor. Probably brandy or something equally pretentious. His woman drinks champagne and giggles at annoyingly frequent intervals. I block it out the best I can.
“How’s the lobster?” I ask as Kat pops another chunk into her mouth.
She finishes chewing before she answers. “Amazing. How’s your fish?”
The filet is ninety percent gone already. I guess I was hungrier than I realized.
“Very good.”
This is the point at dinner when Kat would usually reach for her phone and check her e-mails, and I’d lose her completely. There’s no Wi-Fi on this island, and I’ve been told cell reception is spotty at best. That’s part of the reason I picked it, because I figured it would force us to learn how to have a real conversation again.
I just didn’t expect we’d both go silent like this.
I run through the list of topics we usually cover: the house, the neighbors, her work, her employees, her clients. The end.
Fucking pitiful.
“What do you think about snorkeling tomorrow, or maybe seeing if they’ll take us out on one of the catamarans so we can take a better look around the island and check out the reef? We could do some diving later this week.”
Kat’s gaze cuts to mine as she swallows another bite of lobster. “I’d love to snorkel. Or sail. Or dive.”
“I’ll set it up. I only brought gear for snorkeling, so I’m hoping their dive equipment is solid.”
Kat stills, her fork in midair. “I didn’t bring anything.”
“I didn’t expect you would. I brought your mask and snorkel. You can borrow flippers.”
“Thank you for thinking of me.”
I give her a meaningful look. “I always think of you, Kat. Always.”
She lowers her fork to the plate and bites her lip for a moment before finally asking the question I know she’s been holding on to since we were interrupted earlier.
“You’re sure that nothing happened? You didn’t ever . . .”
I drop my fork with a clank on the plate. “No. Never. You a
nd I took vows. We made promises. We may not have done a hell of a good job honoring and cherishing, but I would never disrespect you or our marriage that way. Never. And the fact that you think I could pisses me off.”
It’s probably not the right way to keep the lines of communication open, but I need her to understand how serious I am.
“Okay. Okay. I get it. I just . . . you took me by surprise there. I thought maybe . . .”
“Why? Why would you think that? Honestly, the fact that you even raised it as an issue makes me wonder if you’ve got something you need to confess.”
Kat’s eyes bulge.
Good. She better fucking look shocked, otherwise there would be some businessman turning up missing and never to be found again when we got back home.
“Are you seriously accusing me of . . . I can’t even say it. Are you really going there?” Her voice rises, and the man seated at the table behind us glances over in our direction.
“If I were, your reaction is all I need to know that you wouldn’t.”
Instead of picking up her fork, Kat reaches for her cocktail and takes a long drink. When she lowers it back to the table, her voice is quieter. “No. I wouldn’t.”
There’s no room for reading anything into her response. I believe her. With my resources, I could easily keep tabs on everyone she comes in contact with on a daily basis, but I don’t. Why? Because I trust my wife. Even if there’s a barrier between us, it’s one we created, not one caused by someone else.
She drains her drink and signals for Eduardo. And then she orders another.
Fuck it. I ask for another beer too.
We finish our dinner making small talk, and not speaking another meaningful word.
One step forward, two steps back.
Chapter 14
Kat
The island is pitch black when we leave the restaurant to return to our room. Living in Houston, you forget what it’s like to see true darkness. The moon is a thin crescent and provides almost no light. Clouds sweep across the sky, covering stars before letting them wink into the blackness again.
Dane, who I swear had to be a Boy Scout in another life, fishes a small flashlight out of his pocket and turns it on. A bright white beam illuminates the wooden path in front of us—and the thing on it.
I scream and jump back three feet rather than moving forward.
At first, I think it might just be the fact that I downed four cocktails like my life depended on it because I couldn’t get the picture of some woman with her arms wrapped around my husband out of my head, but no. There’s definitely something moving.
I scream again when it comes closer.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Kat. What?”
The flashlight beam bounces before it zeroes in on the creature.
I grip Dane’s shoulder, two seconds from climbing up on his back. “What the hell is that? I almost stepped on it.” I suck in a breath, letting the words trail off as my heart hammers.
“The crab?”
A crab? More like a blue-shelled monster the diameter of a salad plate with one big claw waving above his head.
The creature scuttles off the path and out of the light. Dane shifts the flashlight beam to follow it, and I hide behind his back and peek over. Oh God. The crab isn’t alone. I scoot back another step, almost losing my balance when I see at least a dozen more of those monsters creeping their way across the sand toward a pile of fallen coconuts.
“They’re harmless. Just don’t step on one. You might get pinched.”
Harmless? Clearly, we have different definitions of the word.
“Did you see that claw? I’d lose a toe. Or a limb.” I could be exaggerating in my fairly inebriated state, but I don’t care.
“He’s more scared of you than you are of him.”
I roll my eyes, but Dane can’t see my face to appreciate it. “That’s such a bullshit answer. People always say that when it’s not even true. You think it has enough brain cells to process fear? I don’t. That monster crab, which by the way looks like he stepped in that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle radioactive goo and got supersized, isn’t freaking scared of shit. He’d probably be laughing with all of his crab buddies about how loud I screamed if he was capable.”
I turn toward the group of crabs. “Maybe you’d be scared if I were dropping you in a pot to eat? How about that?”
Dane chokes out a laugh, but I’m too busy giving the double bird to the crabs as they creep away.
“Yeah, run, you little multi-legged freak show. Now you’re scared. Right?” I turn back toward Dane as he chuckles. The glow of the flashlight gives me enough light to see his face, and his lips are indeed tilted up.
“They definitely know who’s boss.”
I lift my chin. “Obviously.”
He points the flashlight ahead of us on the path, and sure enough, several more crabs scurry out of the beam, some way too close for comfort.
I don’t think about it this time. I throw myself at Dane and climb him like a spider monkey.
“Shit. What are you—”
“They’re not scared of me,” I whisper, clinging to his shoulders. “But I might be the tiniest bit scared of them, even though they know I’m the boss.”
Dane shifts me in his arms and hefts me higher.
I’m not the lightest girl in the world, but it’s good to know he can still handle my weight. He spends plenty of time in the gym, so it’s not a huge surprise, but now I have to wonder if he’s working out with Arianna.
I say the name in a snotty voice in my head. Petty jealousy. That’s all it is.
He said nothing happened, and I believe him. Dane wouldn’t lie to me.
If I actually paid closer attention to the things he told me, I wouldn’t have been quite so shocked, because I would have already been aware of Arianna’s existence.
I’m putting it out of my head. Over and done with. Buried.
At least I know I’m good at that.
Dane takes a step forward, and I wrap my arms more securely around his neck. He smells freaking amazing, and my thoughts from earlier come back.
My husband is hot, and it’s been way too long since I’ve taken the time to appreciate it properly.
The wind whips off the ocean in the distance, and a chunk of my hair escapes my messy bun and flies into my face. Dane tucks it behind my ear before clicking off the flashlight.
“Hey!” I grip him tighter.
“Look up.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
My nature demands I ask more questions, but instead I follow his quiet order and look up.
“Oh, wow,” I whisper.
The clouds have cleared and stars, big and brilliant against the inky blackness, illuminate the sky.
I’ve never understood the whole diamonds in the sky analogy living where I have. Stars are stars. Nothing incredible.
I’d never seen them like this before, though.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Incredible.”
I squeeze him tighter and lose track of time as it occurs to me just how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of life. It seems there’s nothing like millions of sparkling stars to make you feel both awestruck and inconsequential.
It’s a reminder I need. I spend so much time down in the weeds, dealing with problems for clients that seem monumental in that moment, I lose sight of everything else. Maybe that’s by design so I don’t have time to think about the big picture.
As I look at those stars, I make a vow to remember how tiny I feel right now. To remember that the issues in my life are rarely life and death, and give myself the permission to breathe. I just hope I remember this tomorrow. Freaking Purple Rain.
“How good are your navigation-by-the-stars skills?” Dane asks, interrupting the silence.
I laugh at his question. “I would have to go with nonexistent.”
Dane lifts our joined hands into the air and points at the one constellation that I c
an identify. “You know the Big Dipper, right? Ursa Major.”
“Yes, but not the fancy term.”
“Follow the last star up and you’ll find the brightest star in the sky. Polaris. The North Star, part of the Little Dipper.”
“Ursa Minor?”
“Good girl.”
“The North Star will always get you home.” I laugh because there’s no way, even with that knowledge, I would be able to find my way home. “Maybe it’ll always get you home, but I’m a different story.”
Dane lowers me to the ground so I face him. “That’s what you got me for.”
For now, at least.
We both stare up into the sky for long moments before voices come from behind us. Dane clicks on the flashlight again.
“There shouldn’t be anything else you need to worry about out here,” he says as we move toward our cabana.
“Are you sure? No man-eating alligators? Or crazy jungle cats?” I try to think of some other kind of tropical predators, and come up empty.
“This island is too small to have a jungle or any cats. There are jaguars on the mainland, though. And no alligators, but there are crocs in the rivers and lagoons.”
“All of a sudden, this island thing is sounding safer and safer.”
He steps onto the pier leading to our door. “This island is about as safe as it gets. People are definitely the biggest concern here.”
There’s probably a lot of truth to that statement. “They have a reputation to protect for tourists to come here, so it’s not like they’d let anything happen, right?”
Dane stops in front of the door to the cabana, and I wobble when I reach out and the railing shifts under my palm.
He extends a hand to steady me. “Careful. I don’t want to have to go diving for you tonight.”
I look out into the blackness of the ocean. There are a few lights from islands in the distance, but not many. We’re truly isolated.
“I don’t want to go in the water at night, so we’re on the same page there.”
He shoves the key into the lock. “Good, because I can’t vouch for what’s swimming around in it when I can’t see.”
