Page 14 of Castaway Heat

Shiloh mimicked a monkey’s call. They’d heard enough of the little beasts screaming in the night to know the sounds by heart.

Two cheeky little ones kept stealing slices of papaya Shiloh had been trying to dry in the sun.

Shiloh grumbled about it, but Ronin thought he was leaving the slices out there for the two babies since they already had enough dried fruit to last for years.

He wasn’t sure what Shiloh had been preparing for, but they were ready, nonetheless.

Ronin grabbed Shiloh and pulled him close, trying not to get too excited and hopeful. “He had to have seen me. I’m huge. He passed several times. If he didn’t see me, maybe he saw the sign.”

Shiloh didn’t say anything.

Ronin paused, pulling Shiloh to a stop. “What’s wrong?”

Tears shimmered in Shiloh’s eyes. “Nothing.”

Ronin dabbed at the corner of one, hating to see Shiloh upset. “That’s not nothing.”

“Pregnancy hormones, that’s all.”

Ronin wouldn’t let Shiloh go. “Talk to me, pet.”

Shiloh’s bottom lip quivered. “All I’ve wanted was for us to go home.

Since the day we washed up here… but it’s also been…

incredible, too. Being here. Just you and I.

Insulated away from the rest of the world.

” He sniffled. “When we go back, we’ll have new challenges to face, and our relationship will change. ”

“It won’t,” Ronin said.

“It will, and we both know it. I’ll have school.

You’ll have work. We’ll have obligations and friends and family—and the baby added in soon, too.

” He sighed. “No more engineering makeshift cribs or baskets. No more chasing off monkeys trying to steal our fruit. No more quiet walks along the beach, hand-in-hand. No lying in your arms late at night, listening to the waves crashing against the shore. No more being with one another twenty-four-seven, working to survive together.”

Ronin cupped one of Shiloh’s cheeks, squeezing his omega’s hand with the other.

He realized Shiloh was right. Their world would change once they stepped foot off the island, more dramatically than he’d considered.

“I thought the only things you were going to miss was the sounds of the waves and the stars?”

“I’ll miss the intimacies we’ve shared here.

Not just our bodies, but our minds. Without distractions, we’ve had to talk to one another or else go mad.

We’ve told each other all our stories and innermost secrets.

You probably know me better than anyone else on the planet now…

and I’m sure the same could be said for you with me.

I just don’t want to lose that, Ronin. That special intimacy we found here. ”

“We won’t lose it,” Ronin replied. “Let’s make a promise to one another right now. At least once a week, we turn off devices, shut out the outside world, and we just cuddle close and talk… just like we do in the evenings now… so we can continue to share that no matter where we are in the world.”

“I’d like that,” Shiloh murmured, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“We can hold on to pieces of the people we were here.” Ronin pressed a kiss to Shiloh’s lips. “We just have to be willing to commit to finding time to be present with one another.”

“Yep,” Shiloh said. He wrapped his arms around Ronin’s waist and hugged tight—which wasn’t as tight as it once was with the belly getting in the way. Shiloh leaned back and looked up at Ronin. “Best tidy up before our ride gets here.”

Ronin grinned. “Absolutely.”

About an hour after they’d spotted the plane, they’d returned the house to as close as they could remember it being.

When they were done, Ronin switched off the solar cells and ensured the water line was shut off.

Shiloh tore a page from the back of his notebook and scribbled a note for the owners of the home, if there were any, explaining what had happened and thanking them for the shelter they had provided.

Ronin grabbed the pencil and jotted his name and address, as well, in case there were any claims for damages or the use of the property.

“I guess we should go wait on the beach,” Shiloh said, carrying a small basket he’d woven.

Ronin peeked inside and noticed the notebook, several bags of dried fruit, and a small collection of shells. “I thought you had nothing to pack?”

“So, I have a little bit of stuff to pack,” Shiloh said. “Sue me.”

Ronin gathered Shiloh’s hand in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing just above the wedding ring on his mate’s ring finger. He eyed it, noticing two of the vines were splitting from wear. Once they were home, he’d get a real ring to replace it. “Anything else before we go?”

Shiloh glanced around and shrugged. “I can’t take five metric tons of dried fruit with us. We’ll have to leave that for the owners, I guess.”

Ronin lifted one of the large, near-full pillowcases. “We can sit one out for your monkey friends. They’re going to miss you when you’re gone.”

Shiloh opened his mouth, appearing ready to argue—but he closed his mouth, tears coming again. “I’m going to miss those little jerks.”

Ronin swept in and hugged Shiloh tight. “We can try to sneak them in a bag and take them home with us.”

“And break international law? No thanks. We’re escaping one prison of sorts. I don’t want to land in another.” Shiloh smiled warily, tears still glittering. “Plus their mama or papa would miss them too much.” He growled. “Look what you’ve turned me into! A blubbery pile of goo.”

“I turned you into this?”

“You got me pregnant,” Shiloh snapped.

Ronin grinned. “I think that was a joint venture, babe.”

Shiloh muttered something under his breath before Ronin urged him toward the door.

After he deposited the bag of fruit near the porch and opened it wide, Ronin took Shiloh’s basket and his mate’s hand and left their home of seven months.

They headed for the beach, quiet and solemn.

He watched Shiloh, seeing the fear and anxiety build as the seconds passed.

“We’re going to be okay,” Ronin said.

“Of course we are,” Shiloh said. He smiled tremulously at Ronin.

“We need to go home, if just for the baby’s sake alone.

It’s just… a lot of emotions. And then there’s Sage and Eirin.

I’ll finally find out if they made it home safely.

We’ve been in a Schoedinger’s Cat kind of moment but we’ll soon open that box. Hopefully the news is good.”

Ronin sat down on the beach, near the surf, and drew his omega into his lap, nuzzling Shiloh’s neck. “It’s going to be good news. The power of positive thinking.”

Shiloh chuckled and rested his head on Ronin’s shoulder.

Less than twenty minutes later, a boat came into view on the horizon and Ronin fought tears. As it neared, Ronin squinted to see what the markings were.

“U.S. Coast Guard? What the hell are they doing out here?”

“American Samoa is close to Fiji. I believe I’ve read that they patrol the Pacific from Japan to California,” Shiloh murmured.

“Plus, we have no idea exactly where we landed. We might not be anywhere near Fiji or Samoa for all we know.” He turned his focus on Ronin.

“I don’t care who it is as long as they can get us safely home. ”

“Agreed.” He clasped one hand in Shiloh’s. “We’re going home, husband.”

“And in the nick of time,” Shiloh said, running a hand over his baby bump.