Windswept Shores Page 9

  “Well, that’s karcked-it.” Seth coughed, slamming shut the motor housing.

  “Seth,” Megan called, leaning out with her hands on a limb.

  “Hullo, Megz. I’ve come to collect ya.” He set the fire extinguisher down while he gazed up at her.

  She smiled at him, but her foot slipped. Megan found herself hanging from the limb, nearly upside down.

  He chuckled. “Ya look like a monkey hanging from that branch.”

  Impulsively, she pantomimed a hard scratch at her arm pit, “Auk auk, eke eke.” But one handed, she couldn’t hang onto the branch and started to fall. “Uh-oh.”

  Suddenly, Seth’s arms were under her. “Got ya, me little chimp.” He laughed.

  Megan wrapped her arms around his neck. Their gazes met, turning intense. She felt like she could drown in his warm gray eyes. He leaned in and pressed his full lips against hers. The kiss tingled, going right through her, making something lower down tighten and beg for attention.

  He pulled back. “Miss me?”

  Speechless, Megan nodded.

  He set her down. “Look what I caught for our tea.” He threw open a built-in chest, pointing to a two foot long fish. “It’s called a Tarpon. They get a mite bigger. This one’s an ankle biter. Can you get a good fire going so we can barbie this wee fishy?”

  “Sure, I can try, but the weather isn’t cooperating very much.”

  “Do what ya can, then we’ll eat onboard the Dinki-Di.” He tossed her a lighter.

  She caught it. “Okay, but I’ll need a boost to get back up.” She pointed to her campsite.

  Scooping her up, he gave her a toss. Megan landed neatly on her feet next to the tree.

  Giving him a startled glance over her shoulder, she said, “Are you going to do anymore amazing feats today, Mr. Seth?”

  “I’m saving ‘em for later.” He smirked. “And it’s Mr. Dawson.”

  “There isn’t anything dull about you,” Megan said without thought.

  “Don’t say that yet, luv. It takes away from the expectations.”

  “Expectations of what?”

  “Show ya later.” He grinned devilishly, showing every tooth in his head.

  “I had to open my big mouth,” she muttered. He’s back to flirting. But she found she had missed that, too.

  Megan had the fire burned down nearly to coals, just right for a good barbie, when Seth carried over the gutted and cleaned fish. He had also brought a bigger grill with him. Megan grabbed a folded towel so she could move hers out of the way.

  “Here, luv.” He handed her the platter, then set the new grill, which had legs, across the campfire. Its larger size fit neatly over her long logs. Next he set the two fish steaks across it. Then he pulled some seasoning out of his pocket to sprinkle on the meat.

  Taking a sniff, Megan retreated to a camp chair. “That smells good.”

  “My own special blend.” He grinned at her, but stayed hunched down by the fire. He took a stick to spread out the coals evenly under the grate.

  “It’ll be nice to eat something other than fruit and shellfish.”

  “Too right.”

  “Is there any of that bush pig left?”

  “What do ya reckon I’ve been eatin’?”

  “You ate it all?” She looked at him in surprise. “It was a big boar.”

  “No worries. We’ll get another.”

  “I almost had one the other morning.”

  “Ay?”

  “A boar got after the potato peels. It made an awful noise. When I looked outside, it tried to get in the tent with me.”

  “Did it have a go at you?” he asked. His concerned gaze met hers.

  “It certainly did. It scared the beejeesus out of me.”

  “Blimey.” His eyes widened. “What about the knife I gave you?”

  “I used it. I put out one of his eyes with it.”

  “Good on ya, mate. You gave him something to remember you by.” He beamed at her, showing even white teeth.

  Seth’s comment made Megan feel really good as she smiled shyly back.

  He glanced at her tent. “Is that why your tent is armored?”

  “Well, the stupid animal tore my tent flap. I had to make another one from reeds.”

  “But punji sticks? He’ll think twice with that poke you already gave him.”

  “That’s in case he doesn’t.”

  “Bloody oaf,” he agreed, turning the fish.

  She glanced at the boat. “Why did you beach the Dinki-Di?”

  “Megz, I don’t reckon on how to tell you this.” He looked down a moment, then back to her. “The Dinki-Di isn’t sea worthy.”

  “She isn’t?”

  “Naw, mate, the patch didn’t hold and she took on water. I reckon the bilge pumps have karked-it, making her handle like a bath tub. The storm surge got her off the beach, but it tried to put her back. So, I made the choice where to place her, but it burned out the motors. With the engines burned out along with that hole...she’ll never go to sea again.”

  “Oh, I hoped we were going home,” she said in a low voice, and her heart sank.

  Seth stared into the fire. “I reckon we’re not.” He turned over the fish a few times. The meat sizzled, giving off a pleasant aroma.

  Water drops hit the back of Megan’s hand. She looked up as more splattered on her face. In moments it was a down pour. “Seth, are the fish ready?”

  “It’s a done deal.” He gathered the steaks onto the platter. Then they ran to the boat. Megan held the plate so Seth could go first. He placed his big hands on her waist so he could lift her into the boat, fish and all. They entered the cabin, dripping wet.

  Megan deposited their meal on the table.

  Seth hurried to the back of the cabin, and a moment later he returned to toss her a towel. Another was across his wide shoulders.

  “Thanks.” She toweled arms, legs, lastly her hair. When she glanced up, she caught Seth’s intense stare. “What is it?”

  “Blimey, I missed you,” he replied with a goofy grin. “Let’s eat.”

  “Sure.” She sat.

  He got out two plates, setting them on the table. “Found a couple stashed.” He set a Coke before her and a beer by his plate.

  “Thank you.” She opened the can, took a sip, then a bite of the fish. “It’s good.”

  Megan enjoyed her meal and Seth’s company, but watched him, concerned as he drank one beer after another. He’s going to make himself sick. Does he want his liver pickled? “Haven’t you’ve had enough?”

  “Not yet.”

  Megan’s stomach felt like it dropped down to her feet, and her shoulders slumped forward. “I thought you were glad to see me?”

  “I am.”

  “Then why are you trying to get drunk?” she asked, staring down at her meal. Does he have to be drunk just to be around me? Am I that repulsive?

  “Liquid courage, luv.” He grinned.

  “What for?” she asked him, confused.

  “Tell ya, when I’m good and pissed.”

  “I don’t want to see you doing that,” she snapped, standing up. If I’m that ugly, he can sleep by himself, I’m not that lonely.

  “Where are you off to, Megz?”

  “To bed.” She headed toward the door, but paused long enough to say, “See you at brekky.” Out in the rain, she slipped on the wet deck, and had to grab the side to keep from falling. No wonder Seth fell off this damn boat. The climb up made her wish for a ladder, but a tree worked well enough.

  Back in her tent, she found the flashlight and a towel. She ran out to brush her teeth, but had to spit in a different spot because of the boat. Then she returned to the tent, shivering. Taking off everything except her panties, she pulled on the oversized t-shirt she had been using for a night shirt. She hung her towel and clothes on the center tent pole, then curled up on her pallet. Damn jerk of an Aussie. He would be fine if he’d just stop drinking. She rubbed away angry tears, but couldn’t stop thinking ab
out his arms around her earlier, and how good it had felt when he kissed her.

  ~* * *~

  “Ow, bloody hell,” she heard sometime later. “Oy, Megz, can you let me in? Ya door bit me.”

  Megan turned on her flashlight, and using the light, she unzipped the tent. Inserting two fingers, she pulled the ring which opened the woven door. “Get in. Oh, you’re soaked through. Take your shoes off,” she added when she realized he hadn’t.

  “Orright!” He kicked off his sandals, heedless where they landed, then squeezed past her into the small tent. “Blimey, what’s this?” he said, slapping the cloth hanging on the tent pole.

  “Stop that, you’re messing up my clothes.” She moved the flashlight beam to the pole so he could see what he battled. Meg grabbed the door to swing it closed and locked it up again. Then she zipped the tent flap which hung crooked.

  “Oh, I reckon it tried to get me,” he said sheepishly.

  “Go to sleep,” she said, tired, not wanting to deal with a drunk.

  “Where’s me bed?” he said crossly.

  “You weren’t here so I put it away.”

  “Oh, I reckon I’ll sleep on the floor.” He flopped down. “Can I have a pillow?”

  “Here.” She tossed him one, and lying down herself, she turned off the flashlight.

  “Megz?” He reached over, but patted her feet. “Oy, where’s yer head?”

  “Over here, at the other end. Those are my feet.”

  “Oh.” He turned around and lay down again. “Megz?”

  “Yes?” she said, but held her breath, trying not to breathe in his beer fumes.

  “I lo-o-ove ya,” he said, drawing out the words.

  “Un-huh, go to sleep.”

  “Don’t ya luv me?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she agreed, fluffing up her pillow. One by itself wasn’t enough. But she tucked it under her head anyway.

  “Megz?”

  “Yes?”

  “I fair dinkum luv ya.”

  “Un-huh.” God, he's drunk. “Just go to sleep.”

  “Megz?”

  “Yes,” she snapped.

  “G’night, Megz. I luv ya.”

  “Good night, now go to sleep before I hit you over the head with my flashlight.”

  She was very tempted to hit him, but he started to snore.

  Great!

  ~* * *~

  Seth finally staggered out of the tent, but blinked in the bright sunshine like a mole just out of its hole. While Megan practiced her Tai Chi, she watched Seth board his boat. The only thing worse than dealing with a drunk is dealing with someone hung over. They act like they’re a victim. Yeah, right! A victim of their self-indulgence.

  Sometime later, he came down the slope, clean, shaved, wearing fresh clothes. He also wore sunglasses against the early morning glare, which must have stung his hangover sensitive eyes.

  “G’day, Megz,” he greeted her.

  “Good morning. It’s a beautiful day today,” she cheerfully said as she stepped forward, turning slowly.

  He looked around. “I reckon yer right.” Watching her for a moment, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, Megz, did I say something last night?”

  “You said quite a few things last night.”

  “Naw, I mean, did I say something specific?”

  “Specific? Hmm, I’m not sure?” She continued to sweep her arms back then forward moving an invisible ball. God, why is he making this an issue?

  He said a little louder, “Did I say how I feel?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” She shook her head, but kept moving.

  “What ya mean?”

  “Just don’t worry about it. I didn’t take what you said seriously. You were drunk.”

  “I fair dinkum meant it.”

  She shrugged. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold you to it that you expressed your undying love to me.” Damn, I meant that to be a joke, but it just sounded mean.

  Seth pulled her around to face him. “Megz, I have to get pissed to tell a woman how I feel.”

  She frowned “It doesn’t count, you know.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” she snapped, yanking her arms out of his grip. “If you can’t say it sober, during the day light hours, then it doesn’t count. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”

  “I reckon not.” Seth took off his sunglasses and set them on his head. Gazing down at her with his clear gray-eyes, he said, “Megz, I love you.”

  Windswept Shores

  Chapter Fifteen: They’re not coming

  Seth’s bare toes dug into the warm sand while he stood staring down at the beautiful woman to whom he’d confessed his love. Being near Megz was a heady experience. Kissing her reminded him of surfing that perfect curl, always struggling to keep his balance, leaning to and fro to avoid a wipe out. Each time, his head buzzed while his pants felt five sizes too tight—and he wanted more.

  The roar of the waves filled the beach with its song as he waited for her answer, but the look on her face was anything but welcoming.

  Did I just wipe out?

  “You don’t have to do that,” Megan said, shaking her head.

  “Do what?” he asked, confused. I don’t reckon I had that reaction before, usually the bird is happy.

  “Tell me you love me because you want to have sex with me,” she snapped.

  “It’s not just that.” He frowned. “Orright, I’d like to get a leg over, but ya keep knocking me back. But—”

  “But—I’m the only woman on this island, who else are you going to screw?” Her mouth twisted downward.

  “But . . . you’re a bloody amazing woman.” He smiled at her. He meant every word, but wasn’t sure how else to tell her.

  “ Also . . . I’m older than you. Ten years is a lot.”

  “Twelve years,” he corrected, but wished he hadn’t.

  She glared up at him. “What?”

  “Megz, luv, give a bloke a fair go,” he chided her. “You’re more together than anyone I know. Sheila or bloke.”

  “Yeah?” she challenged, but then pressed her lips together into a thin unhappy line. “You still would have noticed...noticed me...even if there were a lot of hot babes running around?”

  He smiled, amused at her verbal sparring. “Too right, I would.”

  “Even if they were in . . .” she lifted an eyebrow, “skimpy bikinis?”

  She wants me to prove it? “Even in a mob of thong-wearing beach babes you would stand out.”

  “Or would I stand out because I’d be the oldest one there? Remember I’m forty-two?”

  “I remembered.” He grinned. “I remember how spunky ya are, also how you took on a bush pig, not once, but twice. Most hot babes would be worthless. They would have run or fainted.”

  “Fainting is not an option, but I did scream both times.” She shuddered. “Now I have that nightmare of you getting charged by the wild boar disturbing my rest.”

  His eyebrows went up, hope filled his heart. “Not the one about yer bloke?” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

  “No,” she said softly. “I’m not dreaming about him anymore.”

  A slow grin spread across his face. “Megz, do I mean something to ya?”

  “Yeah, you can say that.”

  “Do ya luv me?”

  “Dammit, Seth, I tried so hard not to.” She frowned out to sea with her arms crossed under her breasts.

  “But ya do, don’t ya, Megz?” he asked with a crooked smile.

  “I missed you after I came back to camp alone. Then you show up, did that ridiculous stunt surfing the Dinki-Di up the beach. But it was after you caught me when I fell out of the tree, I-I looked into your eyes and realized . . . I do love you—you big silly Aussie.”

  “Ace,” he answered. He slipped his arms around her and kissed her. She made the noise in her throat he loved. It had a very pleasant reaction to his libido; his shorts suddenly felt too tight. All he wanted to do was sweep h
er off her feet and take her to bed. He desperately wanted to feel her curvy body under his, then make her moan the way she did on the boat.

  He pulled back to gaze at her, taking a deep breath. This part is gonna be hard. “Anyhow mate, there’s something else we need to discuss.”

  “What else?”

  “The rescue ships,” he told her seriously.

  She blinked at him a couple of times but then frowned. “What about them?”

  “I don’t reckon they’re coming.”

  “But-but they are.” She stepped back out of his arms. “I’ve had my bonfire burning all this time.” She gestured up the beach. “Well, except for when we went to the other side of the cay, but then we had that big storm last night. But I’m going to gather all the drift wood that washed up overnight then start it up again.”

  “Don’t bother, mate.”

  “Why?”

  “First let me tell you about the last chin wag I had with Bill, before I took my big swim.”

  She crossed her arms and frowned up at him. “Okay, tell me about your talk.”

  “When we were adrift, Bill tried to fix the motors, while I helped getting the tools he needed. I told him ‘I reckon we’d get rescued.’ He laughed, saying ‘You’re a raw prawn if you reckon that.’ Bill explained that ‘search and rescue’ are for people they know about, but they didn’t know about us.’”

  “But they know about me.” She pointed at herself. “I’m on the passenger list.”

  “I know, luv, but he also reckoned if they know about ya, to go look, ‘the searches were only two to three weeks duration.’”

  “That’s . . . not . . . very . . . long.”

  “After . . . well you’re considered cactus.” Seth watched her reaction and braced for it. He reckoned it would be a shock to her.

  “Cactus? You mean like Bill?” Her eyes got big. “You mean dead? You’re sure dead?”

  “Megz, how long have you been on this cay?”

  “Two weeks before you showed up,” she counted on her fingers, “a week on the other side of the island, also then three more weeks back here. Six weeks give or take, I guess.”

  “Then I reckon they’ve pushed off.”

  Her face paled underneath the tan. “They-they think I’m dead?”