Swept Away (6 page)

He stayed close to her as they jumped each swell. The feeling of unbound buoyancy made his soul feel light. He knew Josie felt it too. Each wave she swam over left her with smiles so big they lit up her face.  During a lull, Josie floated on her back. Eyes closed, chin tipped toward the sun. As the water moved and rippled under her, Tucker craved to grab her, hold her, and kiss her. Taste the salt water on her lips.

Lost in those thoughts, he didn’t notice until too late, a monster wave was building. He yelled for Josie, who quickly flipped onto her feet and let out a scream as the wave curled over her head. Tucker saw her go under as the water swirled around him. He lunged to the left, trying to grab her around the waist, but she slipped out of his hands. Panic hit him. People got rolled in the surf all the time, Tucker knew this. But in that instant, when she disappeared under the water, it felt like life or death. It was the same as the moment he told Ash to watch out. When he told Holly to get it together. Neither listened. Both were gone.

Panicked, he dove under the water. The salt and stirred up sand burned his eyes, but he saw a flash of pink. Reaching out, he made contact with flesh. Grasping, he pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her arms circled his neck and she laid her cheek against his chest as he carried her to shore.

Setting her on the ground, he wrapped a towel around her shoulders and pretended not to notice her bikini needed adjustment. She sat, laying her head against her bent knees. “I got rolled. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Technically, you didn’t get rolled. I caught you before you bit the sand.”

“That’s true. Thank you.”

“Damn, that’s a rough sea,” Tucker said rubbing his face with a towel.

“Must be a storm brewing. That always makes the waves bigger.”

“You sure you’re all right?” He tried to look at her, but his eyes still burned and the sun wasn’t helping. He tried rubbing them one more time.

She blotted her face with the towel as she watched him. “Your eyes are blood shot. Did you open them under the water?”

He nodded. “I think they still have sand in them.” He rubbed at the corners.

“Lay back,” she said picking up her bag and pulling out a bottle of water. She removed the lid, warning him, “This is going to be cold, but it will help.”

She leaned over him, her hands soft and cool on his hot skin. He had to remind himself to breathe. As she came closer, he could smell her. Laundry soap and sweetness.

“You smell good,” he said, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

“Salt and sea weed?” She gave him an odd look.

“No, something else, I smelled it earlier.”
Smooth Tucker. Real smooth.

“Honeysuckle body wash.”

Honeysuckle body wash. Sexiest words he’d ever heard, and he’d been offered some hot pick-ups in his life.

Cold water splashed in his eyes.
Shit, was it iced
? The thought ran through his head, but he never flinched. She doused him thoroughly, carefully wiping his eyes with her tee shirt. “There you go,” she said. “You did very well.”

“You’re much better at it than a grunt.”

Josie laughed. “You guys do that to each other often?”

“Mostly training. In case we ever get caught up in chemicals. In basic, the guy who did mine about ripped my damned eyelids off.”

She laughed as she wrapped her hair into a knot at the back of her head. With her arms above her head and behind her back, her breasts were pushed out. The tiniest bit of rounded flesh worked its way free from the side of her top to tease him. Aware he was fully ogling her, he tried to shake it off and make conversation.

“So, where do you hang out around here? Are there any clubs or bars?”

Josie laughed. “There’s nothing like that on this island. Even if there were, that’s not really my thing. Most everything I do, I do alone.”

Tucker nodded as an ornery grin tugged at his lips. “And yet you came with me. I guess I’m pretty special.”

Josie matched his grin, rolling her eyes at him. “You’re the first to actually live in one of the cottages. The rest are tourists who rent them for a week and leave. A few come back year after year, but they’re mostly retired and not really the
hanging out
type.”

“Hetty told me about the guy she had to fire. Don’t try to deny it.  I’m special.”

Josie laughed as she settled herself back against the sand. Lying there, knees bent, she sighed. Droplets of water rolled from her stomach down her sides leaving a mesmerizing trail. Digging her toes in the sand, she said, “I suppose you are pretty special.” Then she closed her eyes, turned her face toward the sun, and smiled.

It was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

Lying next to her soaking up a drenching sun, Tucker broke the peace. “I’m starved. You want to get some lunch?”

Josie cupped her eyes and looked up at the sky. “I’d say it’s well past dinner time.”

“No wonder I’m so damned hungry.” Tucker rose to his feet and offered her a hand. She hesitated, but accepted his offer. Her fingers felt small and fragile. He’d have gladly kept hold, but she pulled her hand back as soon as she was on her feet.

Grabbing the sheet, she shook off the sand, quickly folded it, and stuffed it in her bag. Then she slipped on her shorts and tee shirt.

“Ready?” Josie asked. She bent forward to pick up her bag, but he reached it first and slung it over his shoulder.

Josie laughed. “Looks good. It matches your eyes.”

Tucker looked down at the pink bag covered in daisies and smiled. “Go ahead, you can tell me how pretty I am. I won’t be insulted.”

Josie shook her head as she laughed. “You’re very pretty.”

“Thank you. But I hope you’re still interested in my mind.”

“I’m beginning to think your mind is a little demented.”

“A little?” He scoffed. “It’s a whole lot, baby.”

Her smile came fast and easily, and her laugh carried on the wind, mingling with the crash of the waves and squawks of the gulls on shore.  Damn, he’d forgotten how good life could be.

Tipping her head slightly, she said, “You’re prettiest when you smile, Tucker Boone. Happiness suits you.”

He’d like to say he took her appraisal real cool, like a mature man could, but he felt the heat crawl up his neck to center on his cheeks. Walking beside her, he asked, “Anywhere good we can eat?”

“I usually cook.”

“All I’ve got are cans of food and cereal. I had some frozen pizza, but I ate it all.  Let me take you somewhere.”

“I don’t really feel like dressing up and going out.” Her voice dropped lower, as if she was embarrassed.

“Me neither. How about I pick up a pizza? We could watch a movie.”
Calm down, Tucker. No sense letting her know she’s making you insane.
He gripped the flowered bag tighter.

“At my place?” She stopped in the path and turned to look at him. She chewed her lip.

“I’m being pushy. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s just that…well, I mostly have old black and white movies.”

“Like Casablanca?”

“Yeah, and the
Maltese Falcon
. I have the entire Hitchcock collection.”

“That’s great. I’ve been wanting to see them all.”

“Really?” Josie didn’t look convinced.

“Really. Every single one is on my bucket list.”
As of right now.

Josie’s face lit up. “I can’t believe you like old movies. I can make sandwiches.”

“No, let me get the pizza.”

“Okay. Then tomorrow, I’ll make dinner,” Josie said, her body giving a little bounce as she talked.

“Awesome,” Tucker said, hoping to hell he wasn’t headed to the friend zone. But sadly, he admitted to himself, if she asked him to spend an evening highlighting their hair, he’d agree.

He showered and drove into the cozy town for a pizza. Then over to Ella’s to buy drinks. He debated between picking up beer, wine, or cola, but instead grabbed a pack of fruity flavored wine coolers. He wanted everything to be perfect. He almost asked Ella if his shirt looked all right, but he squelched it. It was just a movie with a girl. Even if she did make his palms sweat and his brain lock up, she was just a girl.

Arriving back at the cottage, he knocked on her door. She answered, wearing a pair of yoga pants and an over-sized tee shirt. Her cheeks were pink from the sun, her hair a riot of untamed curls piled on top of her head. Her hair looked soft, tempting him to reach out, wrap a curl around his finger, and see if he was right. But the thought of touching her made his heart race like he’d run a mile. He suddenly worried he was going to break out in a sweat. The idea of ending up with wet arm pits made him feel even hotter.

“I, uh, brought wine coolers.” He lifted the brown paper bag as evidence. “I wasn’t sure if you liked them or not.”

Josie pulled one from the carton and looked at it. “I’ve never had one. I drank a beer at a party once, but I hated it.”

“One beer? Slow down there, tiger.”

“Yeah well, my mother was strict. I didn’t get out much.”

“It’s all right. I'm more than happy to be your bad influence. Try one. They’re much better than beer. Or so the ladies tell me. I’d never admit to drinking them myself.” He took the bottle from her and twisted. It hissed as it opened. He handed it back; she hesitated a moment as if deciding if it was beverage or poison.

After taking a small sip, she smiled. “It’s good. I like it.”

They each made a plate. Josie carried hers to the couch and sat with her feet tucked under her. Picking up the remote, she flipped on the TV. “I put in
Psycho
. I mean, you may as well start with the most famous. If it’s the only one you get to see, then at least you’re less culturally deprived than before you met me.”

Her words made his heart sink to his stomach.
If? Another movie wasn’t a sure thing?
Tucker sat beside her. In his nervousness, he left more than two feet between them. He realized that was a newbie move, and he couldn’t help but think drunk girls in clubs were a damned sight easier to pick up than shy girls who liked black and white movies. He suddenly wasn’t sure he was capable of closing the deal with a girl like her.

She hit play, and the movie started. Josie was engrossed in the story, but Tucker couldn’t keep his eyes off her. His brain was on fire obsessing about the things he’d said and the things he should say. Catching his gaze out of the corner of her eye, she turned to him with a blush and said, “You’re not watching the movie.”

“Sure, I am. Sort of.” He set his plate on the coffee table in front of him.

“I can pick another one if you don’t like it.”

“I like it.”

“You’re not watching it.”

“Well, no. But I mean, yes, the movie’s fine. I was just…oh hell, it’s your fault.”

“My fault?”

“Yeah. Holy shit, Josie. You’re too distracting.  I can’t watch a movie when all I can think is what can I say to impress you and try really, really hard not to break out into a sweat.”

“I can turn up the air conditioning.” Josie started to get up. Tucker grabbed her arm.

“Sit. It’s fine. I could be at the freaking Arctic, and I’d still be sweating.” His cheeks felt like they were on fire. This had to be his most humiliating moment. With his cool gone, he only had his dignity left to trample, so he figured what the hell. “Damn Josie, you’re beautiful.”

Poking him with her naked foot, she laughed. “Oh hush, Mr. Don Juan.”

“I wish.” He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “Now, watch your movie.” He turned his attention back to the TV. He could see Josie watching him from the corner of his eye.

After a few minutes, she said, “You’re pretty good-looking yourself.”

Tucker felt like a complete idiot. He couldn’t remember a time when a date made him feel so inept. He was pretty certain that when she looked at him, she saw through him, and he worried she’d find the nothingness he worked so damn hard to hide.

Unable to look at her, he rubbed his chin. He finally managed to say, “Thank you.”

Josie turned off the TV. “The name on your tattoo? Was she your girlfriend?”

Touching his shirt where the anchor and globe tattoo would be, Tucker said, “No, Ash was my buddy.”

Josie scooted closer to him and held his hand. “He the friend you lost, with the wife?”

“Yep, that’s him.”

“What happened?”  She looked at him, but he gazed at the floor.

“He went to war, and he died.”

Her words were quiet, her tone patient. “How?”

Finally making eye contact with her, he thought about telling her the whole story, but he couldn’t say the words. Over and over he saw his friend’s last minutes. Saw the blood bubble from his mouth. Shaking off the nightmare montage that replayed continuously in his head, he said, “He died. That’s what happens when you fight a war. People die. End of story.”

Josie’s hand tightened around his. “I’m sorry, Tucker.”

Words choked him, so he nodded.

Josie leaned closer, pressing her cheek against his arm.

They sat there, neither moving, neither speaking until Tucker picked up the remote and turned the movie back on. Clearing his throat, he finally said, “Now, where were we on putting an end to my cultural depravity?”