Текст книги "On the Island"

Автор книги: Tracey Garvis-Graves

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter 23 – Anna

I opened my eyes and sighed in relief at the absence of burning, stinging pain. T.J. slept beside me, his breathing deep and steady. Naked from the waist up, something soft covered my chest like a blanket. I sat up and slipped the T-shirt over my head, inhaling the familiar smell of T.J. I rolled over on my side and slept again.

In the morning, I woke up alone. I pulled the hem of my T-shirt up. The faint red outline of the tentacles remained and probably would for quite some time. Raising it higher, I cringed at the condition of my breasts. Dark red streaks covered them, crusted and bloody. I let the T-shirt fall, stepped into shorts, and left the house to go to the bathroom.

T.J. was making a fire when I returned.

He stood up. “How do you feel?”

“Almost back to normal.” I lifted my T-shirt a little and showed him my stomach. He traced the marks with his finger.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, not really.”

“What about?” He pointed at my chest.

“Not as good.”

“I’m sorry. There were some tentacles inside your top, stinging you, and I didn’t notice right away.”

I had no recollection of him taking off my top, only the burning pain. “That’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“You turned red and swelled up.”

“I did?” I didn’t remember that either.

“I gave you Benadryl. It knocked you out. “

“You did exactly the right thing.”

He walked into the house and returned with the tube of cortisone cream. “I rubbed this on your skin. It seemed to help. You told me it did before you fell asleep.”

I took the tube from his outstretched hand. Had he rubbed it on my breasts, too? I pictured myself lying on the sand, wearing only the bottom half of my swimsuit while T.J. rubbed the cream onto my skin, and suddenly I couldn’t look at him.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Did you see the jellyfish before it stung you?”

“No, I just felt the pain.”

“I’ve never seen one in the lagoon.”

“Me neither. That one must have taken a wrong turn at the reef.” I walked into the house to get my toothbrush, squeezing a miniscule amount of toothpaste onto it. When I came out, I said, “At least it wasn’t one of the deadly ones.”

T.J. looked at me with an alarmed expression. “Jellyfish can kill you?”

I pulled the toothbrush out of my mouth. “Some of them.”

We stayed out of the water that day. I walked along the shore, squinting into the distance and checking for jellyfish, reminding myself that just because we couldn’t see the dangers of the ocean didn’t mean they weren’t there. I also wondered if the first-aid kit would someday cease to contain the one thing we needed to save either of our lives.

***

In June of 2003, T.J. and I had been living on the island for two years. I had turned thirty-two in May, and T.J. would be nineteen in a few months. He stood at least six-two by then, and there was nothing boyish about him. Sometimes, when I watched him fish, repair the house, or emerge from the woods that he knew like the back of his hand, I wondered if he thought of the island as his own. A place where he could do whatever he wanted and anything was acceptable, as long as we stayed alive.

***

We sat cross-legged, facing each other near the water’s edge so I could shave him. He leaned forward, resting his hands on my thighs for balance.

“How did I become your personal groomer?” I teased. “I’ve bathed you. I shave you.” I spread the shaving cream, which was almost gone, on his cheeks.

He gave me a big smile. “I’m lucky?”

“You’re spoiled. When we get off this island, you’re going to have to shave yourself.”

“That won’t be any fun at all.”

“You’ll manage.”

I finished shaving him and we walked back to the house, ready for a nap under the awning.

“You know, I would be happy to give you a bath or shave you, Anna. Just say the word.”

I laughed. “I’m fine, really.”

“Are you sure?” He was lying on the blanket beside me and he reached over and pulled my arm up, then ran the back of his hand along my underarm. “Wow, you are smooth.”

“Stop! I’m very ticklish.” I swatted his hand away.

“What about your legs?” he asked, and before I could answer, he leaned toward me and ran a hand slowly up my leg, from ankle to thigh.

The heat that flooded my body took me by surprise. I made a noise, a cross between a gasp and a moan, and it slipped out before I could stop it. T.J.’s eyes widened and he stared at me with his mouth hanging open. Then he smirked, clearly pleased with the effect his touch had on me.

I took a deep breath and said, “I can handle my own grooming.”

“I’m just trying to pay you back for helping me out all the time.”

“That’s very nice of you, T.J. Go to sleep.” He laughed and turned on his side, facing away from me. I lay on my back and closed my eyes.

He’s only eighteen. That’s too young.

A voice in my head said, technically it’s old enough.

A few days later, in the afternoon, T.J. and I swam with the dolphins. There were four of them, and we watched as they frolicked around us. I wanted to name them, but I couldn’t tell them apart.

When the dolphins swam away, T.J. and I sat on the shore. I dug my toes into the soft, white sand.

“Didn’t you say you were going to take a bath?” he asked.

“Yes. I didn’t bring anything with me though.” Our supplies were dwindling fast. We only washed with soap once a week now. I no longer noticed the way we smelled.

“I’ll get everything for you,” he said.

“You will?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, but I need clothes, too.”

“No problem.”

He brought it all down and left it on the sand. I waited until he walked away and then got undressed.

When I finished bathing, I stood for a minute drying in the sun. I walked over to the pile of clothes, expecting to find a tank top and shorts, or a bikini. What he picked out surprised me. He chose a dress, the only one I’d packed. It was one of my favorites, short and light blue with thin straps. He also selected a lacy, pink pair of bikini underwear, and I felt the heat on my cheeks. He’d forgotten a bra, or maybe he hadn’t, but I never wore one with that dress anyway.

I stepped into the underwear and slipped the dress over my head. When I reached the house, T.J. stared openly.

“Do we have dinner reservations I don’t know about?” I asked.

“I wish,” he said.

I stopped in front of him. “Why a dress?”

He shrugged. “I thought you’d look good in it.” He took his sunglasses off and looked me up and down. “And you do.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling the heat on my cheeks again.

He left to go fishing, and I sat on the blanket under the awning waiting for him to come back.

I often caught T.J. staring at me, but he’d never been so blatant about it. He was getting bolder, testing the waters. If he had been trying to hide his feelings before, he wasn’t as concerned with that now. I didn’t know of his intentions, or even if he had any, but living with him was about to get complicated.

That much I knew.

***

“I wish we had scissors.” I was sitting on the blanket outside the house a week later, trying to brush the knots out of my hair. It hung almost to my butt and drove me nuts. “I should have had you hack off some of my hair before the knife got so dull,” I said.

I glanced over at the fire.

“You’re thinking of burning some of it off, aren’t you?” T.J. asked.

I looked at him like he was crazy. “No.”

Maybe.

I continued brushing.

T.J. walked over and held out his hand. “Give me the brush. I’ll do it. See? I’m paying you back for shaving me.”

I handed him the brush. “Knock yourself out.”

He leaned back against the outside wall of the house, and I sat in front of him. He started brushing. “You have a ton of hair,” he said.

“I know. It’s way too long.”

“I like long hair.”

T.J. patiently dealt with the tangles, working on one section at a time. The sun beat down, but the awning shaded us. A cool breeze blew off the ocean. The omnipresent sound of the waves crashing into the reef, and the feel of the brush moving gently through my hair lulled me into a state of relaxation.

He lifted my hair off my neck, and then pulled me toward him so that my back rested against his chest. I turned my head, and he pulled my hair to the side, laying it over my right shoulder. He continued brushing and it felt so good that after a while I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

When I woke up, I knew by the sound of T.J.’s breathing that he’d fallen asleep, too. His arms encircled my waist from behind, his clasped hands resting on the bare skin above my bikini bottom. I closed my eyes again, thinking about how nice it felt with T.J.’s arms around me.

He stirred, whispering in my ear, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I had a nice nap.”

“Me, too.”

Though I didn’t really want to, I sat up and his hands slid off my stomach. My hair fell in a smooth sheet down my back. I looked over my shoulder and smiled. “Thanks for brushing my hair.”

His eyes were heavy with sleep and something else. Something that looked unmistakably like desire.

“Anytime.”

My heart rate increased. My stomach filled with butterflies and a warm feeling spread over me.

Thinking that our relationship was about to get complicated might have been an understatement.

Chapter 24 – T.J.

I watched Anna walk away after I brushed her hair. I thought about the other day, when she made that sound when I ran my hand up her leg. I wondered what kind of noise she’d make if I did something else with my hand. The urge to slip it inside her bikini bottom and find out had been almost uncontrollable. If we were in Chicago, I wouldn’t stand a chance with her. But I was starting to wonder if, here on the island, I might.

***

Anna and I swam back and forth in the lagoon, waiting for the dolphins. “I’m bored,” I said.

“Me too,” she said, floating on her back. “Hey, let’s see if we can do that lift like Johnny and Baby.”

“I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve never seen Dirty Dancing?”

“No.” The title didn’t sound half-bad, though.

“It’s a great movie. I saw it in high school. 1987, I think.

“I was two years old.”

“Oh. Sometimes I forget how young you are.”

T.J. shook his head. “I’m not that young.”

“Well anyway, Patrick Swayze played this dance instructor named Johnny Castle at a resort in the Catskills. Jennifer Grey played Baby Houseman, and she was there with her family.” Anna paused for a second and then said, “Hey, I just thought of something. Baby and her family were spending their whole summer vacation away from home, just like you.”

“Was she pissed about it, too?” I asked.

Anna shook her head and laughed. “I don’t think so. She got together with Johnny and they spent a lot of time in bed.”

Why have I never seen this movie? It sounds awesome.

”But then Penny, Johnny’s dance partner got pregnant, and Baby had to fill in. There was this tricky lift, and Baby couldn’t do it at first, so they practiced in the water.”

“And that’s what you want to do?” If it meant touching her, I was all for it.

“I’ve always wanted to try it. It can’t be that hard.”

She stood in front of me and said, “Okay, I’m going to run toward you, and when I jump, put your hands here.” She took my hands and put them on her hips. “Then lift me straight up over your head. Do you think you can lift me?”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Of course I can lift you.”

“For some reason, Baby wore pants in the water when she did this, which I never understood. Okay, are you ready?”

I said yes, and Anna ran toward me and jumped. The minute my hands touched her hips, she collapsed on me because she said it tickled. My face ended up in her crotch.

We untangled ourselves and she said, “Don’t tickle me next time.”

I laughed. “I didn’t tickle you. I put my hands where you told me to.”

“Okay, let’s do it again.” She backed up to get a running start. “Here I come.”

This time, when I lifted her, the water was too deep and I couldn’t stay on my feet. I fell backward and she landed on top of me, which didn’t suck.

“Shit, that was my fault,” I said. “We need to move into shallower water. Try again.”

This time we did it perfectly. I lifted her up and she stretched out her arms and legs and arched her back.

“We did it,” she yelled.

I held her as long as I could, and then lowered my arms. I had taken a few steps backward beyond a slight drop-off, and as soon as her feet touched the bottom, her head went under. I reached down and lifted her up. She took a breath and put her arms around my neck. A few seconds later, she wrapped her legs around my waist and held on.

She looked surprised, maybe because she didn’t expect the water to be over her head, or maybe because I had her ass in my hands.

“I’m not bored at all now, Anna.” In fact, if I moved her a little lower, she’d feel exactly how not bored I was getting.

“Good.” She still had her arms and legs wrapped around me, and I was thinking about kissing her when she said, “We have company.”

I looked behind me as four dolphins swam into the lagoon, poking us with their snouts and begging us to play with them. Disappointed, I moved into shallower water and set her down, making sure she had her footing on the ocean floor.

I liked playing with the dolphins, but I liked playing with Anna a whole lot more.

Chapter 25 – Anna

We sat under the awning playing poker, watching the storm roll in. Lightning zigzagged across the sky, and the humid air pressed down on me like a blanket. The wind picked up and scattered our cards.

“We better go in,” T.J. said.

Once inside, I stretched out beside him in the life raft and watched the interior of the house light up with each lightning strike.

“We won’t get much sleep tonight,” I said.

“Probably not.”

We lay next to each other, listening to the rain beat against the house. Only a few seconds separated the crash of thunder.

“There’s never been so much lightning before,” I said. Even more unsettling, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end from the electrically-charged air. I told myself the storm would end soon, but as the hours passed, it only intensified.

When the walls started shaking, T.J. climbed out of the life raft and reached into my suitcase. He turned around and threw my jeans at me. “Put these on.” He grabbed his own jeans and stepped into them. Then he shoved the fishing pole into the guitar case.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think we can ride this out here.”

I got out of bed and pulled my jeans on over my shorts. “Where else would we go?” As soon as I asked, I knew. “No! There’s no way I’m going in there. We’ve made it through other storms okay. We can stay here.”

T.J. grabbed his backpack and stuffed the knife, rope, and first-aid kit inside. He tossed me my tennis shoes and jammed his feet into his Nikes without untying the laces first. “There’s never been one this bad,” he said. “And you know it.”

I opened my mouth to argue with him, and the roof blew off.

T.J. knew he had won. “Let’s go,” he said, barely audible over the howling wind. He slipped his arms through the backpack and handed me the guitar case. “You’ll have to carry this.” He picked up the toolbox in one hand and my suitcase in the other, and we hurried through the woods to the cave. The rain pelted us and the wind blew so violently, I thought it might knock me off my feet.

I hesitated at the entrance of the cave.

“Get in, Anna,” he yelled.

I bent down, trying to work up the courage to crawl inside. The sudden cracking of a tree branch sounded like a gunshot, and T.J. put his hand on my butt and shoved. He pushed the guitar case, toolbox, and suitcase in after me, and followed behind right before the tree fell, blocking the entrance to the cave and plunging us into darkness.

I collided with Bones like a bowling ball into ten pins. The skeleton scattered across the floor of the cave, and a few seconds later, T.J. landed in a heap beside me.

The two of us – and everything we owned – barely fit in the small space. We had to lay flat on our backs, shoulder to shoulder, and if I stretched my arm out, I could have touched the cave wall, inches to my right; T.J. could have done the same on his left. The cave smelled like dirt, decaying plants, and animals I hoped weren’t bats. Grateful to be wearing jeans, I crossed my feet at the ankles to prevent anything from crawling up my pant legs. The ceiling was less than two feet above our heads. It was like being in a coffin with the lid closed, and I panicked, heartbeat thundering, gasping, feeling like I couldn’t get enough air.

“Try not to breathe so fast,” T.J. said. “As soon as it stops, we’re out of here.”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on inhaling and exhaling. Just block everything out. Leaving the cave now is not an option.

T.J. took my hand and laced his fingers through mine, squeezing gently. I squeezed back, holding onto his hand like a lifeline.

“Don’t let go,” I whispered.

“I wasn’t going to.”

We stayed in the cave for hours, listening as the storm raged outside. When it finally stopped, T.J. shoved the tree branches away from the entrance. The sun was up and we crawled out, gazing in shock at the devastation.

The storm toppled so many trees it was like picking our way through a maze to get back to the beach. When we finally made it out of the woods, we both stared.

The house was gone.

T.J. looked at the ground where it once stood. I hugged him and said, “I’m sorry.” He didn’t respond, but he put his arms around me and we stayed like that for a long time.

We scoured the area and found the life raft shoved against a tree. We checked it carefully for holes, and I listened for the hiss of escaping air, but didn’t hear anything. The water collector floated in the ocean several yards offshore, and the tarp and roof canopy lay tangled amid the piles of wood that were once our home.

The seat cushions, life jackets, and blanket were scattered across the sand. We left them to dry in the sun. We attached the roof canopy to the life raft, but T.J. had cut away the nylon sides and the roll-down door to use on the house. The canopy would shield us from rain but we no longer had any protection from the mosquitoes.

We spent the rest of the day constructing another lean-to and gathering firewood, piling it inside so it could dry. T.J. went fishing, and I collected coconut and breadfruit.

Later, we sat by the fire eating fish, barely keeping our eyes open. Thankfully, the life raft continued to hold air and when the sun went down T.J. and I went to bed. I fell asleep instantly, my head resting on my slightly damp seat cushion.

***

I swam back and forth in the lagoon. T.J. was working on rebuilding the house, but he promised to join me as soon as he finished nailing a few more boards.

His desire to get a roof over our heads again consumed him, and in the six weeks since the storm, he’d made remarkable progress. He’d finished the framing and shifted his focus to putting up the walls. Having already built the house once his pace was faster this time around, and he would have worked around the clock if I didn’t convince him to take a break.

I was treading water when he appeared on the beach. Suddenly, he ran toward the shore, yelling and motioning for me to get out. I couldn’t figure out why he was so upset, so I turned around.

I spotted the fin seconds before it disappeared below the surface. I knew by the size and shape of it that it wasn’t a dolphin.

T.J. ran into the water yelling, “Swim Anna, swim!”

Afraid to look over my shoulder, I swam faster than I thought possible. I still couldn’t touch the ocean floor, but T.J. reached me, yanked me by the arm, and pulled me to shallower water. I found my footing, and we ran.

I shook all over. T.J. grabbed me by my shoulders and said, “You’re okay.”

“How long do you think that’s been swimming around in our lagoon?” I asked.

T.J. scanned the turquoise water. “I don’t know.”

“What kind do you think it was?”

“Reef maybe?”

“You can’t go fishing, T.J.” He often stood in waist deep water, since our fishing line wasn’t very long.

“I’d get out if I saw the fin.”

“Unless you didn’t see it.”

We spent the next few days by the shore, watching for the shark. The surface of the lagoon remained unbroken, and the water stayed calm and still. The dolphins came, but I wouldn’t go in. We took turns bathing, but we agreed to stay near the shore, only going in a few feet to rinse ourselves.

A full week passed without either of us seeing the shark. We thought it had gone away for good, that its appearance in the lagoon had been an anomaly, like the jellyfish.

T.J. started fishing again.

A few days later, I sat near the shore shaving my legs. T.J. walked up with the fish he’d caught, watching as I dragged the razor slowly up my leg, nicking my knee and drawing blood. He winced.

“The blade is dull,” I explained.

He sat down next to me. “You can’t go near the water right now, Anna.” And that’s how I knew the shark was back.

He told me he had just pulled the last fish in when he spotted it. “It swam back and forth parallel to the shore, with just the tip of its fin sticking out of the water. It looked like it was hunting.”

“Don’t fish anymore, T.J. Please.”

There were days I could hardly choke down the fish that made up the bulk of our diet. We checked the shore daily for crab, hoping for a little variety, but we almost never found them and neither of us could figure out why. The breadfruit and coconut would sustain us, but I realized how hungry we would be as long as the shark lurked in the lagoon.

Another two weeks passed without either of us seeing it. I still wouldn’t go near the water, except to bathe and then only up to my knees. Our stomachs growled constantly. T.J. wanted to fish, but I begged him not to.

I pictured the shark, waiting patiently for one of us to venture in too far. T.J. believed the shark had moved on, that it had finally decided there was nothing in the lagoon it wanted. Our conflicting theories caused more than one disagreement between us.

I had long since abandoned the notion that I held any kind of rank over T.J. I may have been older and had more life experience, but that didn’t matter on the island. We took each day as it came, addressing and solving problems together. But placing yourself in the natural habitat of an animal that could eat you struck me as the epitome of stupid, and I told T.J. so which is probably why, when I saw him fishing near dinnertime two days later, in waist deep water, I went ballistic.

I waved my arms back and forth to get his attention, jumping up and down on the sand. “Get out right now!”

He took his time getting out of the water, walked up to me, and said, “What is your deal?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m fishing. I’m hungry, and so are you.”

“Hungry is not dead T.J., and you are not invincible!” I poked him hard in the chest after each word, and he grabbed my hand to stop me from poking him again.

“Jesus Christ, calm down!”

“You told me not to go in the water the other day and now you’re standing in it up to your waist like it’s no big deal.”

“You were bleeding, Anna! And you wouldn’t go near the water now if I begged you to, so don’t act like you need my permission,” he yelled.

“Why are you so determined to put yourself in danger, even after I asked you not to?”

“Because whether or not I get in the water is my decision, Anna, not yours.”

“Your decisions have a direct effect on me, T.J., so I think I have every right to weigh in when those decisions are asinine!” Tears sprang to my eyes, and my lip quivered. I turned my back on him and stomped away. He didn’t follow.

T.J. had finished rebuilding the house the week before. I walked in the door and lay down in the life raft. When I was done crying, I took deep, calming breaths, and I must have dozed because when I opened my eyes, T.J. was lying on his back beside me, awake.

“I’m sorry,” we both said at the same time.

“Jinx. You owe me a Coke,” I said. “I want a big one, with extra ice.”

He smiled. “It’s the first thing I’ll do when we get off this island.”

I propped myself up on one elbow, facing him. “I freaked out. I’m just so scared.”

“I really do think the shark is gone.”

“It’s not just the shark, T.J.” I took a deep breath. “I care about you, very much, and I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt, or dying. I can only handle being here because you’re with me.”

“You could survive, Anna. You can do everything I can, and you’d be okay.”

“I would not be okay. I’m fine being on my own back home, but not here, T.J. Not on this island.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I imagined the isolation and pain I would feel if T.J. was gone. “I don’t know if you can die of loneliness, but after a while I might want to,” I whispered.

He sat up a little and put his hand on my forearm. “Don’t ever say that.”

“It’s true. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

He didn’t say anything at first, but he wouldn’t look directly at me. Finally, he nodded and said, “After the bat bit you.”

Tears poured from my eyes and ran down my face. T.J. pulled me down onto his chest and held me while I cried, rubbing my back and waiting for me to finish. Neither of us wore much – a pair of shorts for him and a swimsuit for me – and the skin-on-skin contact soothed me in a way I didn’t expect. He smelled like the ocean and that was a scent I’d forever associate with him.

I sighed, content in the release that came with a good cry. It had been so long since anyone held me I didn’t want to move. Finally, I raised my head. He cupped my face in his hands and wiped my tears with his thumbs.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

He looked into my eyes and said, “I’ll never leave you alone, Anna. Not if I can help it.”

“Then please don’t go in the water.”

“Okay.” He wiped a few more tears. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out. We always do.”

“I’m just so tired, T.J.”

“Then close your eyes.”

He misunderstood me. I meant tired in general, from always having a new problem to solve and constantly worrying about one of us getting sick or hurt. It would be dark soon, though, and it felt so good being in his arms. I put my head back down and shut my eyes.

He tightened his hold on me. One of his hands stroked from my shoulder down to the small of my back, and the other rested on my arm.

“You make me feel safe,” I whispered.

“You are safe.”

I gave in to the pull of sleep and the escape it offered, but seconds before I drifted off completely, I could have sworn T.J.’s lips brushed mine in the sweetest and softest of kisses.

I woke up in his arms just before sunrise, hungry, thirsty, and needing to go to the bathroom. I climbed out of bed, left the house, and walked into the woods, stopping to gather coconuts and breadfruit on my way back. The sky filled with morning light as I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, then prepared our breakfast.

While I waited for him to wake up, I replayed last night’s events in my mind. His desire had been palpable, radiating off him like heat from a fire. His breathing had changed, growing louder, and his heart had pounded under my cheek. He’d shown remarkable restraint, and I wondered how long he’d be satisfied with only holding me in his arms.

I wondered how long I would be.

He came out of the house a few minutes later, scraping his hair back into a ponytail.

“Hey.” He sat down beside me and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “How’re you doing this morning?” His knee rested against mine.

“Much better.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yes. Did you?”

He nodded, smiling. “I slept great, Anna.”

We sat on the shore after breakfast.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he said, scratching one of his mosquito bites. “What if I take the life raft out into the lagoon to fish?”

His suggestion terrified me. “No way,” I said, shaking my head back and forth. “What if the shark bites the raft? Or capsizes it?”

“It’s not Jaws, Anna. Besides, you said you didn’t want me standing in the water.”

“I might have made my feelings clear on that,” I admitted.

“If I fish from the raft, we won’t be hungry.”

My stomach growled like Pavlov’s dog when he mentioned fish. “I don’t know, T.J. It seems like a bad idea.”

“I won’t go out very far. Just deep enough to catch some fish.”

“Fine. But I’m going with you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Of course I do.”

We had to deflate the life raft to get it through the doorway of the house. We re-inflated it with the carbon dioxide canister and carried it down to the beach.

“I changed my mind,” I said. “This is insane. We should stay on the beach where it’s safe.”

T.J. grinned. “Now what would be the fun in that?”

We paddled the life raft out to the middle of the lagoon. T.J. baited his hook and pulled the fish in one by one, throwing them in a plastic container filled with seawater. I couldn’t sit still or stop looking over the side of the raft. T.J. pulled me down beside him.

“You’re making me nervous,” he said, putting his arm around me. “I’ll catch a couple more fish, and we’ll go back.”

The life raft no longer had the roof canopy attached and the sun beat down on us. I wore only a bikini, but I was still sweltering in the heat. T.J. was wearing my cowboy hat and he took it off and plunked it down on my head.

“Your nose is turning red,” he said.

“I’m burning up. It’s hot out here.”

T.J. reached his hand over the side, scooped up some water, and poured it on my chest, watching as it ran in a lazy trickle down to my bellybutton. My body tingled and my core temperature shot up ten degrees. He started to dip his hand in again, and then stopped abruptly. “There it is.” He pulled his fishing pole out of the water.

I looked over my shoulder and every muscle in my body tensed. The fin glided through the water twenty yards away, moving toward us. When it got close enough for us to get a good look, I reached instinctively for the paddles and handed one to T.J. We watched the shark circle the raft, neither of us saying anything.

“I want to go back to shore,” I said.

T.J. nodded, and we paddled away, the shark following us into shallow water. When it was only knee high, T.J. jumped out and pulled the raft onto the sand with me still sitting in it. I climbed out.

“What the fuck are we gonna do about that?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

Because really, I had no idea what T.J. and I were going to do about the nine-foot tiger shark living in our lagoon.