She went with him, the engine roaring in her ears and the ocean’s salty lick basting her skin.
“Don’t let go!” he yelled.
She saw why he’d given the instruction. A huge wave was swelling and racing toward them.
Wyatt opened the throttle, speeding up as they bounced toward it.
“What are you doing?” she shouted. Surely, they should be slowing down, not speeding up.
“We have to get to it before it rolls.”
“We do?”
“Yeah.” He ducked his head, went faster. “Trust me.”
She glued herself to him. Around her, the ocean boiled and frothed and stretched foamy fingers her way.
The wave was getting closer, growing, growing, rising like a monster unfolding.
“We won’t make it!” She let out a yelp.
Wyatt didn’t answer. Instead, his body tensed, as though bracing.
And then they were there, in front of the wave. The Jet Ski lurched upward. The blue sky filled her vision. They were flying, a perfect moment without gravity, silence, and then they crashed on the Pacific side of the wave.
She banged into his hard body. He didn’t seem to notice.
And then suddenly, magically, everything calmed. Around them, the water rippled playfully. As if the need to race to shore hadn’t even been thought of. The sun glinted off the surface, making her squint even behind her shades. The ski found its level and they tore out to sea as though on a perfectly smooth road.
“You okay?” he shouted over his shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She pulled in a deep breath and allowed a grin to spread on her face.Goodbye desert life, hello beach life.“This is beautiful.”
“Yeah, it is.” He pointed forward. “We’ll go out a bit further then drift for a while, enjoy the peace with no one to interrupt us.”
She pressed her cheek to his warm, damp back and closed her eyes as they forged farther out to sea. A smile played with her lips, and a sense of freedom and adventure gripped her heart.
After a few minutes, Wyatt slowed.
She let go, sat back, and raised her face to the sun. “This is perfect.”
“I knew you’d like it.”
The Jet Ski came to a halt, and he killed the engine. The silence was instant and strangely deafening.
“These things are damn loud.” She laughed and poked at her ear.
“Big engines.” He twisted, then stood.
The Jet Ski rocked.
“Hey, what are you doing?” She gripped the seat.
“This watery view is all well and nice, but I prefer looking at you.” He sat, facing her, and grinned. “Yep, any day.”
“Smooth talker.”
Not that her view was bad with him in it. His dark eyes sparkled and a flush had risen on his cheeks. With his hair wet and pushed back from his forehead by his shades, he looked younger, giving her a brief glimpse of what he might have looked like several years ago, on the cusp of manhood.