Page 96 of Nash

“Fuck.” He scrambles to his feet. “The anchor’s dragging.” He steadies himself. “Vale, grab a life vest, put it on, and stay down here until I tell you it’s safe.”

“What about you?”

“I’m taking us back to the marina. Just hang on. It’ll get bad before it gets better.”

It is bad. It’s the longest hour of my life. I’m not worried about mine; I’m worried about Nash. A violent squall rages outside, the waves pitching us high before we drop back down to their shadowy trough.

“Nash.” I rush to the galley opening, poking my head out to the lashing rain, the howling wind making the drops feel like a thousand knives stabbing my face.

“Vale!” he barks, standing at the helm, his fists clutching the steering wheel. “Stay below!”

He aims the vessel into the waves, trying to avoid a capsize, but I don’t listen. I sit on the floor by the opening.I have to see him. I have to know he’s okay.

He’s soaked, rain pelting his face, not fully protected by the windshield. He clenches his jaw, staying focused ahead, slamming the throttle down as he fights each swell, over and over. I stay focused on him, praying he won’t be thrown overboard until finally … it ebbs.

The squall passes into gentle rain, the wind and waves calming, too. We find sheltered water, but the sky is still grey, with no sun in sight. This system will last days as Nash slows the vessel, maneuvering the boat back into its slip.

A dockhand helps him tie off before Nash kills the engine. Then he glances down and sees me sitting at the bottom of the galley stairs, gazing back up at him. He grins. “You never listen, do you?”

“I was too busy ignoring you.”

His grin grows. “Get busy finding the candied ginger chews in the kitchen. They’ll settle your stomach, and then we’ll talk.”

He grabs a shammy to start wiping down the helm while I’m barely sick enough to obey.

I brush my teeth first, the mint paste helping to calm my nausea, before I rummage through cabinets, searching for the ginger candies and the meaning behind what Nash said.

I can’t let you go again …and I don’t want to go.

So, does that mean he’s changed his mind? He wants us to try? He wants us to be together?

Then what now? We can’t hide forever, and I don’t mean from Turner but from Alena.

We’ll have to tell her. We’ll have to break her heart and hope there’s enough love for us there that it will heal. But then again, Alena will feel so betrayed by our secret.

So many secrets.

How many can someone forgive?

Unlatching the cabinet by the microwave, I peer in, pushing aside boxes with teabags, sugar, coffee, and filters. I can’t find the damn candies, but then, behind an old bottle of honey, I find…

Aviator sunglasses?

I pick them up, my hand suddenly trembling with recognition, with brutal memories. I’d know these sunglasses anywhere.

Chad.

They belonged to Chad.

What are they doing on Nash’s boat?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

NASH

What the hellwas I thinking? Not even in a sudden storm can I hide from this.

I’m soaking wet and absolutely sure …I won’t let Vale go again.

---