Between Hello and Goodbye(37)

The morning was golden, the sun rising high in a sky of perfect cerulean, while the ocean was a rich midnight blue. Once we arrived at the destination, Captain Gary shut off the engine and explained over his loudspeaker that there was an old sunken barge just under the water.

“The old tanker is more than seventy years old,” Captain Gary said. “The sea has reclaimed it, turning it into a new coral reef habitat. You should be able to see a lot of our local marine and maybe even some sharks.”

I shot Asher a look. “Sharks?”

“Nurse sharks, mostly,” he said. “Only one or two great whites.”

I smirked. “Only.”

Asher’s lips hinted at a grin and for once, the perpetual furrow between his brows was absent. “A dozen, tops.”

The other couples began putting on wetsuits they’d rented from a local shop. I stared helplessly until Asher pulled a women’s wetsuit, short-legged and short-sleeved, from inside his magic duffel bag.

“Where did you get that?” I asked.

“Rental shop.”

“And you didn’t think to consult me first?”

“It saved me the time I would have spent taking you down there and watching you try on a bunch of different suits when I knew this one was going to be perfect.”

I crossed my arms. “There’s a fine line between being helpful and being insufferably presumptuous.”

“Was I wrong?”

I rolled my eyes. “Give it to me.”

I snatched it out of his hands, trying to hold onto my irritation. A pathetic barricade against my attraction to him, but it was useless.

I glanced over just in time to see him remove his shirt in order to put on his own wetsuit. It was the first time I’ve seen him bare-chested. His tight T-shirts had promised that every chiseled ounce of him would be spectacular, and they delivered. Pecs, abs—all highly defined and tanned to a beautiful bronze. A light smattering of hair along his chest—not too much—was the proverbial icing on the cake. I quickly averted my eyes, but the damage had been done.

Damn him. Damn damn damn damn…

I yanked off my sundress. Underneath, I wore a yellow and white striped bikini. Now I felt Asher’s eyes on me, igniting little fires along my skin everywhere they roamed. Instead of hurrying to cover up, I took my time with the wetsuit. I found myself wanting to be sexy for him, to be alone on the boat with him, to let him strip off my suit one piece at a time and put his hands on me wherever he wanted…

Jesus, woman! Snap out of it!

I quickly finished zipping myself into the wetsuit that—damn that man again—fit me like a glove. I turned to Asher, and a smartass remark died on my lips to see him taking in my neoprene-clad figure with the same hooded gaze as when I was in the bikini.

Our gazes clashed and we quickly looked away like a pair of nervous teenagers.

This outing is rapidly turning into a disaster of repressed lust.

Throwing myself overboard and swimming back to shore felt like an easier option than spending one more second in this man’s presence and not doing anything about it.

The other snorkelers jumped in and spread out. Asher jumped in ahead of me with our snorkeling gear (from the Airbnb and my one contribution, thank you very much) and held the surfboard steady as I scooted on my stomach on top of it. I concentrated on not toppling over and then nearly did anyway to see my firefighter soaking wet with rivulets running down his square jaw and hanging off his chin. Fortunately, it’s difficult to look sexy while wearing a snorkeling mask. We put ours on, and he swam us to the wreckage, both of us with our faces in the water.

For a while, I forgot about my sexual frustration and became immersed in the underwater world in front of me. The water wasn’t deep, and the wreckage had been overtaken by forests of chunky coral and swaying plants. Small schools of bright yellow fish, streaked with blue and silver, darted among clusters of rainbow-colored coral. Eels slithered among rocky outcroppings, and sea horses flitted among delicate pink anemones.

These were creatures I’d only seen in the tropical fish section of pet stores, and they were right in front of me, reminding me that this was their world, and I was the visitor. I understood why Asher was protective of these habitats that were being threatened—life was precious down here. Delicate. I had an inkling, too, of what he meant when he said he was grateful for the ocean. I felt an inexplicable sense of gratitude for all that swam and swayed around me.

After a time, I took off the mask and sent Asher to swim freely with the others while I watched, lying with my head pillowed on folded arms and letting the current rock me. My firefighter would dive for long minutes, then surface, jetting water from his snorkel tube like a whale, always keeping tabs on me so I wouldn’t drift too far away.

I smiled, unable to remember when I’d felt this calm. Utterly content.

After a time, Asher returned to me and removed his mask. “You good?” he asked, holding on to the nose of the surfboard.

“Perfect.”

His face was inches from where I rested my chin on my folded hands. I allowed myself a few greedy moments to take him in and then a thought made me laugh.

“Oh my God, do you see this? We’re a reenactment of the scene at the end of Titanic. Except—unlike Rose—I’d gladly share my door with you and not let you freeze to death like poor Jack did.”