“No, I’m fine.”
Oh, shit. If I’ve learned one thing from my sister, ‘I’m fine’ does not mean ‘I’m fine.’ I sit up, putting my thumb under Sutton’s chin and tilting her face up to mine. She presses her lips together and lifts her chin in a defiant glare, but her eyes are shining.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing.” She shakes her head and looks away. “I just don’t want to talk about going back.”
I don’t get it. Is she worried we won’t make it back to Sugar Creek? Cupping her soft cheek in my hand, I pull her close and kiss her forehead.
“Hey, don’t worry. They’re going to come for us, Sutton. At the very worst, Jake is scheduled to take a tour out tomorrow morning, and he won’t miss the fact that our boat isn’t at the dock. The storm is easing up and the Coast Guard will be breathing down our necks in no time, I promise.”
“It’s not that—”
“SUTTON O’BRIEN! DEAN CARPENTER!” A voice booms from the cove, magnified to inhuman proportions. It calls out our names over and over and I’m filled with hope.
“What did I tell you?” I grin at Sutton as I get to my feet. I pull my trunks on at record speed before grabbing the flashlight. “Get dressed, I’ll flag them down,” I tell her, giving her a quick kiss.
I race down to the cove and spot a Coast Guard cutter off in the distance, a spotlight sweeping the wreckage of my boat in the shallows. I shine my flashlight at them, passing my hand in front to signal S.O.S.. There’s a shout from the boat and the spotlight lifts, simultaneously blinding me and filling me with relief.
Sutton comes tromping out of the brush, backpack slung over her shoulder, red hair in wild waves. She’s so fucking gorgeous that my chest hurts. I have the insane urge to tell the rescue team to fuck off and come back next week once I’ve had my fill of her, but that’s stupid.
A week wouldn’t be nearly enough time.
A rubber dinghy hits the water and time feels like it’s moving in stop-motion scenes. Lights in our eyes. The rescue team splashing onto shore. Questions. So many questions. But I can’t focus on anything other than the man wrapping an emergency blanket around Sutton’s shoulders and the urge to rip his hands off. But before I can, she brushes his arms away and steps closer to my side, sending a little wave of possessive pleasure rolling through me.
We’re on the dinghy and headed for the cutter within minutes. We pass by the half-submerged wreckage of my boat, twisted and scorched in the shallows, and I pull Sutton close, so fucking grateful I got her off the damn thing before it went up. She frowns softly, and I’m guessing she’s thinking the same thing. A medic checks us over but declares us ‘remarkably healthy.’ Turns out a couple days of camp food and unending sex agrees with us.
When we crawl into the harbor, my sister Kenna is standing on the dock, along with my best friend Jonas. She’s gripping his arm so tight I can see her white knuckles from here. Half the town is behind them, watching the drama unfold. The second we disembark, Kenna is on us both, squeezing me so tight I’m afraid she’s going to crush my trachea. People converge on us, and Sutton gets swept one way while I’m pulled in the other.
Fuck. I don’t want her to wait around all miserable and dirty while I fill out reports, but being separated from her hurts more than it should.
9
Sutton
Everything is moving so fast. Kenna pulls me one way and dock officials steer Dean another. He looks at me over his shoulder, eyes worried.
“We’ll catch up later, okay?”
Catch up later?That’s it? Those words hit me like someone just swung a sack full of bricks at my chest. I knew this was coming. I knew it the second he wanted to talk about ‘when we get back.’ Even before the Coast Guard screamed our names through that megaphone, I knew it was over. I let myself ignore reality; pushed out every smidge of common sense that could have guarded my heart.
I’m a freaking idiot. I should never have let him in. My dumb heart equated getting marooned on that island with some kind of fairy tale. I should have known better, and I have no one to blame but myself.
I let my best friend guide me toward her car, my body numb as I buckle in. She’s talking as she drives, but I don’t hear it. I wonder what she’d say if she knew I just spent the last 36 hours riding her brother like a mechanical bull. I snort a laugh and then the laugh turns to a sob as the rain starts up again, pounding on the metal roof of her car.
The car crunches on gravel as Kenna pulls over on the side of the road. She hugs me tight. I’m sure she thinks I’m losing it because the last two days were traumatic. I can’t make myself tell her that all I want in the world is to go back to this morning and wake up in Dean’s arms again. I’d eat freeze-dried meals and sleep in the woods forever if it meant being with him.
“It’s going to be ok, Sutton,” Kenna croons, rubbing a hand over my back. “Girl, where the hell is your bra? Were you just free-tittying it the entire time?”
“Oh, shit,” I laugh through my tears. “I left it on the island.”
“Oooookay. One day soon, we’re going to get drunk and you’re going to tell me everything. But right now, you need a warm bath.”
Kenna drives me to my house and pulls me inside. She runs the hot water, pouring in a capful of bubble bath. “Get your ass in the tub. I’m going to go pick up a hot meal.”
“Bossy,” I mutter.
“You bet your sweet ass I’m bossy,” she mutters, looking at her phone. “My best friend and brother go missing at sea, GPS dead. You two scared me half to death. You’re just lucky I’m taking it out on you by enforcing self-care.”