The Trouble With Paradise (10 page)

BOOK: The Trouble With Paradise
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Dorie took the wheel. She could feel the swell of the ocean beneath her feet, the speed of the boat, and appreciated the authority. With the wind whipping at her and the control all hers, she felt dangerous and better yet, important. She could imagine she was a pirate on a raid, all-empowering, but then she hit the tip of a swell and the boat rose so high she screamed.
Just behind her, Denny laughed wholeheartedly.
“What if I capsize us?”
“You can try, but we’re tougher than you think.”
Good. Tough was very, very good. “What if I run into something?”
Denny took in the view. There was a faint line of islands in the distance, but other than that, nothing was out there, nothing at all.
“Good luck finding something to run into,” he said.
So she kept at it, in charge of the helm, with the wind giving her a rush. She was grinning from ear to ear when she finally turned to give the control back over to Denny—
And found Christian standing there, watching her.
“I was pretending to be a pirate,” she said.
“Ah.” He didn’t smile, but she’d have sworn his eyes warmed. A chink in the armor. She was wondering if there was some sort of trick to getting him to say more than a word or two at a time, when Andy showed up in designer board shorts and a vintage T-shirt, snorkeling mask in hand.
“Hey, partner,” he said to Dorie, looking as if he belonged on the cover of
Sailing Today
. “Ready to snorkel?”
Her tongue jerked once and promptly stuck to the roof of her mouth. “Um—”
Not noticing her handicap, he pointed to the stretch of tiny islands that lay scattered like a handful of emeralds cast upon a shimmering blue tabletop. “I bet we can move closer, maybe go exploring.”
Alone on a deserted island with a sexy baseball cutie. It should have thrilled her. Instead, she found herself glancing back at Christian.
But with one inexplicable glance, he was gone.
 
Snorkeling turned out to be a fairly painless adventure. Brandy joined them, and they even coaxed Cadence into the water—up to her neck, that is.
“You gotta relax, girl!” Denny yelled out to her from the boat. He stood at the platform, long hair flowing behind him, eyes covered behind aviator sunglasses, shirtless, tanned, weathered, looking like he’d been born to the sea. “You’re in the South Pacific for God’s sake!”
Cadence nodded but didn’t look like she relaxed any.
Andy was in the water with Dorie, putting his hands on her as required. Which seemed to be fairly often. Every time he touched her, he was smiling easily, innocently.
Sweetly and kindly.
She tried to relax and enjoy the fact that Baseball Cutie
wanted
to touch her, but her tongue wouldn’t cooperate, and as a result, she was having a hard time relaxing herself.
The crew took turns taking quick dips, including Christian, who dove off the top deck wearing nothing but a pair of black board shorts low on his hips. He swam hard and fast, straight out until he vanished, and then straight back, pulling himself out of the water in one sleek motion, collapsing on the deck to catch his breath.
“Mmm-hmm,” Brandy murmured softly, for Cadence and Dorie’s ears only. “Ladies, I can almost feel the man-made orgasms as I lie here.”
Dorie, who’d just taken an unfortunate sip of soda, choked.
Brandy just smiled. “Much better than battery-operated toys.”
Dorie coughed some more while Cadence let out a shocked laugh.
Andy scooted closer. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Dorie said quickly.
He nodded but didn’t shift away, using his new closeness to get extra attentive, lotioning up Dorie’s back and shoulders, and taking his time about it. Not that Christian seemed to notice or care. Nope, as soon as he dried off, he simply pushed up to his feet and vanished.
Without a word.
Which worked for Dorie. Really, it did.
 
That night they ate Ethan’s fresh salmon and beef tender-loin with French onion soup served by an even surlier than usual Bobby, as the setting sun tinted the sky lavender and orange. For dessert they consumed homemade ice cream to die for, then listened to Denny’s pitch on why they should buy into time-share sailing on the next luxurious sailing yacht the owner of the
Sun Song
was having built.
Afterward, they danced beneath a darkening sky as clouds moved in with shocking speed, blotting out the moon and stars, churning up the night sky. Even the air changed, chilled, and from far off to the east, lightning flashed.
“Bumpy seas ahead,” Denny called out.
Dorie grabbed her drink just as it would have sailed across the table. “He’s not kidding.”
The boat lurched again, and Cadence gripped her hand.
“Uh-oh.” Brandy went an interesting shade of green. “I like to sleep off all unpleasantries. Time for me to hit the sack.” She went through her purse, pulling out a bottle of pills, shaking a few out in her hand. “Nope, not those”—she fingered through them—“No, not that one either. Ladies, never, ever, take a sleeping pill and a laxative in the same night . . .” She looked up. “Oblivion, anyone?”
Dorie shook her head.
Cadence did the same.
“Suit yourselves.” She popped a sleeping pill, while the boat continued to rise and fall with sharp precision.
Bobby appeared at their side. Though the night had cooled considerably, he was sweating. “The captain wants you to go down to your rooms for the night.”
“Why?” Cadence asked.
“I’ll take the nasty storm that wants to eat us up for a hundred, Bob,” Brandy said, still looking green.
Dorie kept her gaze on Bobby, who wasn’t looking happy. Not that he ever did, but tonight he seemed especially grim. “Are we in danger?”
“There’s a storm moving in. It’s . . .” He looked away. Adjusted his cap low on his head. “Unexpected.”
No, it wasn’t. Denny had warned him yesterday to check something—the storm jib?—but Bobby hadn’t wanted to.
“A big storm then?” Cadence asked worriedly.
He grimaced, not very effective at hiding his feelings, which at the moment included frustration at having to deal with them when he clearly had other things to get to. Like checking the storm jib. “Can you just go below please?”
“I’ll get seasick below,” Cadence said, just as the boat pitched hard to the right.
Dorie gasped and grabbed onto the table to steady herself.
“Look at the sky,” Cadence said in a low, fear-pitched voice.
The sky was black, huge, and menacing as the storm clouds roiled above them. Earlier, Dorie had looked at the view with awe. It’d seemed so impossibly big, so all encompassing. She was still filled with awe, but horror-filled now, because this sky seemed bigger, and
more
all encompassing. Ready to gobble them up.
“Ohmigod,” Cadence gasped.
“Relax.” This from Denny, at the helm. “It’ll blow over by morning—”
The boat pitched harshly. They all grabbed their things.
“Go on down now,” Denny called. “We’ll have a day for the memory books tomorrow. Parasailing, whale watching . . . tons of fun, I promise. But go now.”
Brandy leaned into Dorie and Cadence. “Yeah, that whole buying a time-share thing? Doesn’t look so good.”
They all laughed a little, but it felt weak as they stood and got a glimpse of what they were sailing into. A billowing, churning sky, and huge, tumbling waves.
“What if a wave knocks us over?” Cadence asked in a small voice. “I didn’t really listen when they were going over the safety procedures . . . oh, God. I’m going to die.”
“No one’s going to die,” Brandy said. “Not yet. Not when I haven’t gone to confession in fifteen years. Hey,” she called to Christian, who’d come to stand next to Denny. “You aren’t by any chance a priest, too, are you, Doc? I need to confess before I kick the bucket.”
“No one’s dying,” Ethan said, coming out of the galley, but he looked uncustomarily ruffled. “Going below is simply for your own safety.”
“Absolument.”
Sounding extremely in charge and extremely French, Christian moved forward, his eyes right on Dorie, as if planning on taking her by the arm to escort her below himself if he had to, which definitely didn’t qualify as sweet but reached her anyway.
“Tous ensemble,”
Christian said. “Together.” But before he got to her side, Andy stepped between them, reaching for Dorie himself. “I’ll get them below.”
Christian simply changed course as if it mattered not in the least to him, but he did give Dorie a long, almost daring look that she couldn’t have begun to interpret.
Nor did she understand the funny feeling still sizzling in her belly, sort of like hunger but not.
More like
lust
.
Really?
She asked herself.
Now?
She decided to ignore it and looked at Andy to see if she got the same feeling when he looked at her. He smiled, but all that happened was that her tongue threatened to swell.
Damn it.
She bit it, then jumped when Denny yelled.
“Jesus, look at that! Sixty knots, and counting! Bobby, hoist that storm jib, goddamnit!”
“I’m trying!”
Christian leapt to help Bobby, his expression tense as he effortlessly climbed up the equipment in the face of the storm, the wind battering him as he did, without any sign of fear for his own safety while he ensured hers. Dorie stared at him, knowing she’d never forget the sight of him silhouetted against the terrifying sky. “Get below,” he shouted at her roughly. “Jesus, Andy, do it. Get the women belowdecks.”
“Come on.” Andy grabbed Dorie and Cadence, who was holding on to Brandy. They moved to the stairs, and then hesitated, staring belowdecks. Nothing but pitch darkness.
“Whoa,” Cadence said, hands out for balance as the boat rocked and rolled.
Andy flipped on the running lights, which illuminated the stairs but not much else. Still, they headed down. At the bottom, they were galvanized by a sudden drumming sound.
“What’s that?” Brandy gasped as it grew louder and louder. “A pack of angry bees on crack?”
“Rain.” Andy sounded grim. “Torrential rain.”
They stood belowdecks, huddled together in the middle of the dimly lit hallway. When the boat pitched again, Brandy gasped and grabbed the closest person—Andy. “Sorry, hon, but my pill is kicking in. Take me to bed, sailor?”
Andy glanced at Dorie, clearly torn, which was incredibly sweet.
Sweet
was on her list. She liked her list. “We’ll be okay,” she assured him.
“I’ll be right back.” He slipped an arm around Brandy and steered her toward her room.
“I don’t like storms.” Cadence said this very quietly to Dorie. “Especially when I’m on a boat in the middle of the ocean.”
Dorie thought of the men above deck. Particularly Christian, putting his life on the line. “Me either.”
They could hear the shouts of the crew. “Bobby, wrestle down the reefed mainsail!” This from Denny, clearly taut and angry. “Jesus, get the number
three
jib! Speed it up!”
More drumming rain, even louder if that was possible.
“Shorten sail, shorten the fucking sail, Bobby!” Denny yelled, and then Ethan’s voice joined his. “Come on, man, get with it!”
Dorie swallowed hard. “Sounds . . . intense.”
“And not very encouraging,” Cadence whispered.
“Oh, you know sailors.” Dorie smiled, trying to be brave. “They make everything sound so dangerous.”
The boat rolled. They crashed into each other, where they remained together, hugging tightly. “So you don’t think . . .” Cadence started.
“No. Absolutely not.” But in spite of herself, Dorie’s cheerful tone faded just a little bit as around them the wind howled and screeched, the rain continuing to come down at deafening decibels. She thought about the boat sitting on the churning, swirling, massive waves, being flung about like a bath toy, and wasn’t comforted.
Every few seconds it seemed they’d hear something crack or crash, and would wince in tandem.
Was the sailboat falling apart?
She didn’t want to think about what would happen if it did just that, because it would mean getting onto a ten-man raft out on that sea.
If the eighty-two-foot
Sun Song
couldn’t survive the seas, how could a raft?
That, in a crux, was the source of panic balled in her throat. “Stay calm.”
“Calm,” Cadence repeated. “Right. I’m calm.”
“Actually, I was talking to myself.” They held on to each other like orphaned baby monkeys as they pitched up and down and every which way.
“We’re going to capsize,” Cadence whispered.
“No. No, we’re going to be fine.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I didn’t finish living yet.” Truth be told, she hadn’t really even started. “Just stay positive. That’s the trick. Stay positive.”
That’s when the lights went out.
BOOK: The Trouble With Paradise
9.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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