Page 16 of Fire Island (Fire Island #2)

Fifteen

EVIE

T he nightmare I had three nights ago was so intense I was sure I was dying. The only thing—person—I wanted in the final moments of my dream was Cal.

And he heard me.

He came.

To find me a mess . I can’t get the thought that I’ve ruined everything out of my head. Iris was quiet when we left, but I know she’s upset about what happened. I’m kicking myself now. How could I be so stupid? Of course the man would come if I was screaming out his name.

I drop my head onto the small table in the shack. The laptop in front of me is open on a blank page. Chapter four of this new project, and I’m stuck. Stuck in my own damn head. Never to return to reality.

It’s hard to work in an imaginary world when your real life is imploding all around you.

Urgh, I need a break.

From nothing.

From everything.

I wander from the hut and head for the tree line. Some forest time should help.

I cross the invisible line from island grasslands to forest and keep walking into its cooling embrace.

I feel better already. After five minutes of wandering through the trees and inhaling as much fresh air as my lungs can tolerate, I stop and lean on a rough tree trunk.

Eyes drifting shut, I let my mind meander.

“Don’t go too far,” a gruff voice calls from the tree line.

I barely hear his low tone over the breeze.

“Alright!” I call back.

I slide to the ground and listen to the beautiful sounds of nature around me. Those sounds are soon drowned out by heavy treads over the debris-covered forest floor. Steps halt in front of me, and I crack one eye, looking up at Cal.

“You okay?” I ask.

He looks conflicted. He has since we left Iris’s, if I’m honest. The awkwardness that’s been swinging between us since the nightmare is driving home the reason why nobody’s supposed to talk about his past.

Our past.

I’ve set him back, and I hate myself for it.

“Don’t get lost, is all.” He glances around the forest.

“I won’t.”

“You know your way around the forest?” His brows fall.

“Mostly.”

I decide honesty is my only path forward at this point.

“Course you do.” He sighs, searching the forest around us.

I push to my feet. “I can go back to the mainland, if it would be easier.”

He turns on me, stepping into my space. “Why would that be easier?”

“For you, I mean,” I breathe.

“You think being away from you would be good for me?”

“You did,” I whisper. “Better for me, that was the idea.”

This complicates things further, and I need to shut the hell up. Maybe if he has a reason to send me away...

But the doctor said he had to have someone with him. Surely, Iris could find a real live-in caregiver?

“Eve.” He lifts my chin with a finger. I’m looking into those blues with nowhere to go. No refuge when he says, “I don’t want you to leave. Now, or when my memories return.”

That takes my breath away.

“That might change.”

He searches my gaze before he leans in, and his breath caresses the shell of my ear. “Come home.”

Emotion floods my senses. Him this close, I can barely manage a solid inhale.

He puts a little space between us.

I hate it.

I want the distance to disappear again.

“Lunchtime,” Cal says, walking back the way he came.

He leaves me gasping for air, back pressed against the rough bark of the tree, my body alive from one small interaction.

If it was possible to fall in love all over again with this man, consider me tumbling down to earth at speed.

Only this time, the chance of splattering all over the ground on impact is a solid possibility.

Because to lose this man twice would render me unrecoverable.

Cal pulls out the chair at the table. All I can do is stare at it. The image of being tied to it as he pushes my thighs apart burns, sending the hottest crimson all over my neck and face. A quizzical look captures his face as he takes in my flushed face.

“It’s just a chair, Eve.”

“That’s what she said.” I drop into it and pull myself closer to the table for lunch.

The table is loaded with fresh salad, chicken, ham, something that looks like a casserole or stew.

Warm bread rolls sit in a basket by it. A bottle of wine is the centerpiece.

A red. It sticks up out of the plates of food like the lighthouse it’s in.

If food was a love language, this would be a proposal. Or a really big apology.

“Eat before it goes cold.” Cal passes me the heavy casserole dish, and I spoon some onto my plate.

“What’s all this for?”

He continues to load up his plate, taking a little of each. When he’s done, he looks up. Uncorking the wine, he pours us each half a glass. “Trying something different.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t ask you to tell me about”—he waves a hand between us—“but maybe if we spend more time together, things might come back.”

“They might.”

“You don’t think it’ll work?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know if forcing it is a good idea.”

“Does this feel forced?” He frowns.

“No, but?—”

“We’re going swimming after this. Eat up.”

“You’re not supposed to swim on a full stomach, Cal.”

He grunts. “Wives’ tale. You’ll be fine. Besides, it’ll take us a half hour to get there.”

Does he mean the waterhole?

I narrow my eyes playfully. “Fine, but if I need rescuing, I’m absolutely calling Emmett.”

His cutlery hits the table. “Fucking brat.” He tosses a carrot at me.

“Hey! Stop wasting our hard-earned food!”

“Our food?” He raises an eyebrow.

I can’t help myself. I rise and pad to where he sits. He looks up at me, all blue eyes and handsome angles. I pluck up a tomato. If this doesn’t jog his memory, nothing will. I shove it into his mouth, and his eyes widen as he chews. I lean down. “I like you with your mouth full.”

I swear he growls.

I pluck up my plate and hightail it out of the house.

I took it too far, but I am not missing that swim. Not for anything.

An hour later, a knock rattles my door. I look up from the huge word count of eighty-nine to find the man filling the doorway as he does, leaning on the jamb.

“Got time for a swim?” he asks.

“You have Em’s number on speed dial?”

He rubs his chin with a hand, as if contemplating leaving me behind.

“It’s fine, you’ll do. Let’s go.” I grab a towel and slide on my flip-flops.

We walk in a comfortable silence on the way through the forest. As the trees give way to the large spans of water and the small waterfall trickling down the ledge at one side, I toe off my footwear.

Tossing my towel into the tree, I pull my shirt over my head.

I changed into my swimsuit after lunch, still hopeful he would bring me here.

Cal tugs his shirt over his back, running for the waterhole like a kid.

He jumps and cannonballs, his legs tucked up, arms tight around them.

The splash explodes around, wetting me where I stand.

I pad to the edge. Its grassy mud-rimmed border is squishy underfoot, mud squelching through my toes.

I wade into the water as Cal comes up for air and bobs, arms wading out beside him.

Just how deep is this little oasis pond?

It’s incredible. In up to my belly, I suck in a breath. For a warm day, the water is cool. I brace myself, walking until it’s up to my shoulders, then I swim out to where Cal is.

“Guessing they don’t have anything like this in New York?” he says with a wide smile.

“Nope, not at all,” I say softly, leaning back until I’m floating on my back. The surrounding canopy frames the blue sky overhead. It’s amazing.

Not unlike the night I floated and waited for Em.

But unlike that time, now I am content. Happy.

Safe.

The water sloshes, and I glance over to find Cal gone. I fix my focus back to the sky, not bothered he’s decided to do something else. Inhaling, I relax, letting the ripples lap at my side, arms, legs, ribs, and neck. My hair floats out around me.

This is as close to heaven as a girl can manage by herself.

A head rises to my left, water running from his hair, over his face and his cheeky-as-shit grin.

“Ah! Shit.” I roll and sink, spluttering on the liquid that finds its way into my lungs when I forget to hold my breath. Warm hands haul me to the surface, and I gasp. Mouth open and hair curtaining my face like some swamp monster, I slap his shoulder. “You ass!”

He chuckles, not letting me go.

I swipe the hair from my face and the water from my eyes. Cal’s laughter fades as he realizes we are barely inches apart.

I could so easily lean in, crash my mouth to his.

Devour this gorgeous man, palm his face with my hands. Hold him until one of us breaks away, breathless.

Instead, I simply float in the water.

The absence of our love is an anchor weighing between us, tied off at both our hearts. Neither of us dares to move, lest we both sink to the dark depths below.

“Can I touch you?” he whispers. “To see if anything happens.”

“I—you’re already touching me.”

His hands adjust on my waist, and to my surprise, he pulls me closer. With only an inch between us, he says, “Your face, your lips. To see for myself.”

I nod, and my breath stalls out when his hand rises and his knuckles brush over my jaw. I want to roll my head into his embrace. To close my eyes and let my instincts take over, like they’ve done so many times with this man.

“Eve.” My name is gravel.

My lips part as my chest caves under my choppy breaths. I can’t take my gaze from his as it falls to my mouth. His thumb sweeps over my bottom lip, and I swear his eyes dull to something close to navy. My legs wrap around his waist automatically. I still, waiting for him to object.

He doesn’t, and I plant my hands on his shoulders.

He cups my face in his hands, eyes searching my own as he brushes his lips over mine. “What were we?”

My throat closes over.

I want so badly to fill in every blank he’s suffering through. To give him the relief he so desperately needs. But if I do, I will tarnish or twist the memories his mind has stored and protected so well.

I don’t answer, and his hands fall from my face.

“They are worth the wait,” I whisper, catching his hands before they can dip below the water. “I can promise you that.”

He forces a smile, but I can almost taste his disappointment. I know that feeling all too well. I’m dying here, too, for the moment we get back what we lost.

But I refuse to ruin our chance at something incredible for a moment of curious relief.

Cal wades toward the waterfall, and I follow. He stands now where the water must be shallower and runs his hands through his hair as the fall pours over him.

I hang back, watching this god of a man in action. Something so simple, yet so damn overwhelming.

He walks from the water toward the edge, not coming back. I swim to the waterfall and let it pound its heavenly way over my shoulders. A girl could absolutely get used to this.

An hour later, we break through the tree line, almost home.

Cal tried to make small talk on the way back, but I was quiet.

I don’t trust myself to not screw this up.

The last thing he needs is more drama to deal with.

With the lamp and losing three years and all.

Enough is enough for one man. Besides, it’s nice being in his company.

It’s what I longed for in those darkest moments.

The bargains I made, every one included him.

And they came good, so there is no way in hell I’m ruining this. For Cal.

For me.

For us.

As we reach the house, the screech of the radio splits the air.

“Watchhouse to Fire Island. Over.”

Cal rushes to the radio and plucks up the handheld receiver. “Watchhouse, this is Fire Island. Over.”

Emmett sounds tense.

Static channels through the room, and he glances at me.

“Hey, bud. Ah, your sister needs you back here. ASAP. Over.”

“Em, really, tell Irry to text me.”

“You know that’s patchy at best. I’ll pick you up first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Can’t it wait?” Cal says, focusing on me.

“No. This time it can’t. Over and out.”