Stranded with the Quarterback Page 5

  She wondered what his definition of disaster was, but she didn’t ask. “I haven’t dated in eight years, since my husband died.”

  Maine looked like he’d been hit with a cruise ship, and Orchid turned away from him again. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Orchid,” he said again, but she found her footing on the rungs and went down to the ground. He didn’t follow her and didn’t call her back again. It was okay. He needed some time to absorb everything she’d said.

  Heck, had she been in his position, she would need some time and space to think through things. “He thought you were a fun, flirty, single woman,” she muttered to herself. Well, maybe not fun or flirty. And she was single.

  But single with a lot of baggage.

  Though, he seemed to have some of his own, too, and Orchid actually liked that. Maine Fitzgerald seemed so unstoppable on the football field. He was one hundred yards of pure muscle and power, and he never looked ruffled or frustrated during a game. Never.

  Orchid walked away from the tree house, reminding herself of the wild animals on this island. She couldn’t go too far, but she ventured back to the boat, deciding to fill it with banyan leaves and palm fronds so they’d have something besides bare wood to sleep on in just a few hours.

  Her back hurt too, though she knew it wasn’t even close to the pain Tanner had to be experiencing. She was simply out of shape, and sitting in a boat and then walking through sand and climbing ladders didn’t make her soggy muscles very happy.

  But she stretched and picked, bent and gathered, until she had a good pile of leaves and fronds. She’d piled them all in the boat, and she walked around to the back of it to try pushing it.

  Something sharp touched her foot. She jerked away, as the last thing she needed was an injury. A seashell glinted there, a ray of sunlight falling through the trees to highlight it. Thinking only of her daughter, Orchid bent to pick up the shell. It was white on one side, with a pale pink interior.

  Tesla would love this shell, though she had hundreds of them from her time snorkeling at Shell Reef, the best place in Hawaii to find shells. This one was mostly intact, while many of Tesla’s weren’t. The tides and waves that came ashore didn’t play nicely with seashells, as she’d told her daughter numerous times.

  She tucked this shell in the pocket of her shorts and turned to heave her weight into the boat. It only moved a few feet, but it was enough to get what little strength she possessed behind it and keep it moving across the sand.

  Tanner tossed his head and groaned, and Orchid wanted to get him up into the shelter before darkness fell.

  Exhaustion hit her, and she stopped pushing the boat. There was so much to do, and so little time to do it in.

  Maine approached from the other direction, a bunch of bananas in his hand. “Orchid,” he said, his eyes all lit up. “I found a garden. Come see.”

  She immediately started toward him, taking a banana when he handed it to her. The fruit tasted like manna from heaven, and she smiled at him. She didn’t feel the need to explain any more to him, and the ball was in his court now.

  Or his yard line. Whatever. She’d told him about her husband and daughter, and he could decide what to do with that information.

  “The pigs have obviously found it too,” he said. “But there’s still some really good stuff.” He marched along a path that had probably been well-worn in the past but now had grasses and bushes trying to eradicate it from the earth.

  She followed him, buoyed by his excitement. “How far is it?” she asked, glancing left and then right. The water still washed ashore on her right, so they were walking parallel to the ocean.

  “Just back here,” he said, taking a right when she expected him to go left. They moved back out in to the sun, and sure enough, a garden spread before her. Well, an overrun garden, full of weeds and plants that should’ve been pruned back long ago.

  It didn’t matter. It was food, and delight filled her. She started laughing as she moved into the mess of greenery. Maine joined her, his deeper chuckles making harmony with her higher laughter.

  He bent and pulled something up, a long, orange carrot now in his hand. “Look.” He smiled at the carrot as if he’d never seen one before. Orchid felt the same way, a sense of wonder and happiness filling her in a place where she’d expected to be frightened and miserable.

  “Let’s take a bunch of stuff back,” she said. “Put it in the tree house. Figure out how to get Tanner up there. And desalinate some water for morning.” She looked at him. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “And I’ll figure out how to keep the pigs out of the garden. This place is amazing.”

  Orchid bent again, her back protesting, and started picking plants. Half of them came out with nothing attached but a root. A weed. But she found carrots and potatoes and even a beet. One single beet.

  “How do you think they planted this stuff?” she asked.

  “They had to bring it with them,” he said. “I mean, they had to have tools to build that tree house. The table. All of it.”

  “Do you think they left any behind?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, glancing up as the light started to fade. Panic hit Orchid right in the chest. “I can go exploring in the morning.”

  “We should get back,” she said, forming a carrying pouch with her T-shirt.

  Maine nodded and pulled his shirt over his head. He started piling the vegetables he’d found on it, but all Orchid could do was stare at his bare torso. He was tan and glorious, with ridged muscles as far as the eye could see.

  Everything inside her heated, and she tore her eyes away and started back to the tree house. Maine came behind her a few seconds later, and she felt every inch of her skin during the walk back.

  “Leaves,” he said. “Great idea.” He beamed at her and went up the ladder with his food.

  “Toss your shirt down,” she said. “I’ll put my veggies in it and pass it up to you.”

  He did as she suggested, and she stepped up a couple of rungs until he could get his hands on the fabric of his shirt. Then she started passing leaves up to him too, until the entire boat full was in the tree house.

  “I’m going to fill up the water bottles,” she said, collecting the empty one beside Tanner. “Where’s yours?”

  “That one’s mine,” he said, nodding over the edge of the tree house. So he was being a little braver now. “I don’t know where Tanner’s is.”

  Orchid frowned. They only had four bottles, and now one was missing. She shook the negativity away. She couldn’t afford to go into one of her depressive slumps out here. She had to get back to Tesla.

  She had to stay busy. Keep her mind off how weak and pathetic she was. Turning, she grabbed the bucket with the bowls and piled the two water bottles in with them. The sand was hot on the way to the water, but Orchid ignored the flames in her feet.

  After filling everything she could with the cleanest water possible, she lugged it all back up the beach. Her heart pounded and her shoulders wailed at her to stop with all the working.

  She didn’t stop. She kept one eye on Tanner, her mind riddling through what they were going to do with him, while she pulled the desalination tablets from her backpack. She read the instructions, noting that the big, bold letters said EMERGENCY USE ONLY.

  Well, this was an emergency. She put the tablets in the water and watched them. She wasn’t sure what she expected. Bubbling, maybe. Something. Nothing happened at all. Her hopes deflated quickly, and she couldn’t push against the rising tide of desperation.

  In that moment, her eyes also caught on something else on the package. These were water purification tablets, not water desalination tablets. They wouldn’t take the salt out of the ocean water.

  She fell back, utterly exhausted now. She hadn’t even realized she’d started weeping until Maine said, “Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?” He enveloped her in his strong arms, and Orchid hated that she needed that. Needed him.

  “Nothing
.” She sat up and pushed him away. “But this water isn’t drinkable. These aren’t desalination tablets.”

  He looked at her blankly, and Orchid wanted to rage at him, though she wasn’t any smarter than him. “There has to be a way to get drinking water,” she said. She grabbed her pack. “Surely Eden would’ve made sure I could get drinking water.”

  She started pulling things out of the pack and naming them. “Emergency blankets. Unbreakable cord. All-in-one tool. Can cooker. Nail clippers. First aid kit. Painkillers. Antibiotics. Plastic gloves. Tarp. Hey.” She looked up at Maine, who also wore a grim expression despite the hope shining in those dark blue eyes. “We could’ve used this to carry the vegetables.”

  “We will tomorrow,” he said. “There are fruit trees here too. Loads of them.” He nodded back to her backpack. “Anything else?”

  She pulled out a mess kit, a flashlight with fresh batteries, and a fire-starting kit. “And this.” She put the box on the sand between them. “A solar still.” The picture on the box looked like a floating balloon on water, and she clapped her hands.

  “This is it. This is a solar kit to evaporate water and make it drinkable.” The bright red letters in the corner confirmed it, and her hands tripped over themselves to get the device out.

  “The sun’s going down,” Maine said. “We should wait until morning.”

  Orchid was suddenly so thirsty. She didn’t want to wait until morning, but she didn’t want their only way to make the miles and miles of water surrounding them to float away in the darkness either.

  “Orchid?” he asked. “Okay? I’ll take care of this in the morning.”

  “Okay.” She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying. “I’ll get rid of all this water.” She stood up, but Maine took her into his arms before she could move.

  “Leave it,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of it too. Okay? Let’s figure out how to get Tanner into the tree house, and then it’s time for bed.” He rubbed her back, and Orchid enjoyed the warmth from his body, the safety in his arms, despite the despair she felt clawing at her.

  Chapter Eight

  Maine stayed still, his hands having a mind of their own as they continued to stroke Orchid’s back. She held him tight, like she needed him, and Maine wanted to be the man for her. The one who cradled her while she cried, and took care of her, and made sure she never experienced unhappiness again.

  The feelings were strange and new for him, and he absolutely welcomed them. It was nice to think about someone else for a change, and feel like perhaps his only worth didn’t depend on how far and how accurate he could throw a ball.

  He finally swept his lips along her cheek. Then her earlobe, his pulse quickening when she leaned into his touch. He pressed his mouth to her temple and whispered, “Come on.”

  She stepped out of his arms and looked at Tanner, who was still asleep on the tabletop. Maine knelt down and shook his shoulder. “Tanner,” he said, his quarterback bark coming out of his mouth. “Wake up. We need you to climb into the tree house.”

  The man’s eyelids fluttered and opened, and he blinked as awareness came over him.

  “Can you get up?” Maine asked. “We don’t want you to sleep on the sand.” He didn’t really want Tanner in the tree house either, because then he couldn’t whisper with Orchid, tell her how wonderful and beautiful she was, and kiss her until she moaned his name.

  He buried the fantasies as Tanner eased himself to a sitting position. “Yeah, I can get up.”

  Maine looked at Orchid. “All right. Slowly, now.” He braced himself and extended his hand to Tanner, who took it and leaned his whole weight against Maine’s to get to his feet. He groaned as pain flashed through his dark eyes.

  “We’re going back up there?” he asked, holding very still.

  “It’s okay on the left side,” Maine said. “I’ve been up there a lot.” He’d stood at the railing and watched Orchid walk down to the water’s edge and fill up the containers. He’d almost felt removed from her, from the whole world, in that moment, and he didn’t hate it. He’d lived a life of football, and he was starting to think there was more for him out there.

  Like a pretty blonde and her daughter.

  “One step at a time,” Maine said. “Orchid, will you go up first in case he needs help at the top?”

  She shouldered her pack, scampered in front of them, and scaled the rungs easily. “See?” he said to Tanner. “Easy.” But he knew sometimes with a back injury, lifting a leg was in fact very difficult.

  Tanner did it, hoisting his weight up onto the first rung. Step by step, he got himself into the tree house. Maine glanced around at the sandy ground, the water bowls and bucket near the trunk, and reached for the spear. Might as well be prepared.

  He climbed into the tree house too, hoping the job he’d done with the leaves and fronds would meet Orchid’s approval. She hovered over Tanner, who lay with his back right against the outer wall of the structure.

  A blip of unease ran through Maine, and he stepped past them to the back of the tree house, hoping to distribute their weight more evenly. He’d piled the leaves for pillows, and he sank down near the one he wanted.

  Orchid came over a few seconds later and curled right into his chest as easily as if she’d done it thousands of times before. “I’m so tired,” she murmured.

  “Me too,” Maine said, taking in a long, deep breath of her hair. “We’ll find water in the morning, Orchid. Think about it. There are chickens and pigs here. They can’t drink ocean water either.”

  She stiffened in his arms. “You’re right,” she said, a new edge of happiness in her voice. “You’re so right.”

  He lay still as she shifted and relaxed into his embrace again. “The stars will be beautiful out here,” he whispered.

  “I’ve got my eyes closed already,” Orchid said back, her breath brushing the collar of his shirt.

  “I’ll describe them to you,” he said, the darkness becoming deeper and deeper with each breath he took. But he said nothing. Just watched as the pinpricks of light appeared in the little of the sky he could see through the canopy of the tree above him.

  Eventually, his eyelids drifted closed and he entered the peaceful bliss of slumber.

  He woke to the sound of a rooster crowing, and it was akin to torture. If he knew what torture was—and right now, it was the obnoxious wail of a chicken before the sun had even risen.

  Orchid groaned in his arms, and Maine knew exactly how she felt. His bones and muscles felt rusty, and he wondered what time it was.

  “That’s the first one I’m going to kill,” he said, even his throat full of frogs this morning.

  Orchid giggled, which sent Maine to laughing too. He had a ton of work to do that day, but for right now, he just wanted to laugh with this gorgeous, strong woman. He quieted a few seconds before Orchid did, and he opened his eyes to look at her.

  She still had her eyes closed, the crinkly lines of laughter around them as she continued to smile. He wondered what she’d do if he kissed her right now. Right this second. His heartbeat picked up as he seized hold of the thought. He cradled her face in both hands, pushing her hair back a split second before he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Orchid flinched and pulled back, giving Maine the answer to his question. “Sorry,” he whispered, opening his eyes again. She looked into his, and he had no idea what to say next. He knew her rejection stung, and he knew he just wanted to go back to sleep. Maybe when he woke up, this will all have been a nightmare, and he’ll go to the snack bar and get one of those virgin drinks he liked so much.

  “It’s okay,” Orchid whispered, pressing in closer to him. Her eyelids drifted closed again, and she tilted her head toward his, almost begging him to kiss her.

  He didn’t want to take her by surprise again, and he honestly wasn’t sure what she was telling him. Any other woman, and he’d know. But Orchid was complicated. She felt things deeply, and she wasn’t afraid to show her
emotions. Maine found her refreshing and puzzling at the same time.

  “Are you going to kiss me?” she murmured, the words barely registering in Maine’s ears.

  “Do you want me to?”

  She snuggled closer, if that were possible. “Yes.”

  “I just thought—I mean, you—”

  “Don’t think so much.” She leaned into him and kissed him then, and Maine’s head filled with heat, driving all his thoughts away. He accelerated the kiss, almost showing her how hungry he was for this type of human connection, and then pulled back slowly, making every stroke gentle and slow.

  Her fingers slid through his hair, sending showers of electricity down his shoulders and back. “Orchid,” he whispered, removing his lips from hers for the two-syllable word and kissing her neck next.

  The adrenaline pumping through him felt the same as when he threw a game-winning touchdown. He didn’t think such a thing was possible, but this woman was full of surprises. He wanted to know every one of them, and he moved his mouth back to hers.

  Finally, he pulled away, enjoying being kissed and kissing her a whole lot. “I should go take care of the water,” he whispered. “You stay here and go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.” He eased away from her, his eyes able to see well enough in the pre-dawn grayness surrounding them.

  He went down the ladder and stooped to empty the bowls and bucket of the sea water she’d gathered last night. He set them on the tabletop before he remembered she had the solar desalination system in her backpack.

  He turned to find her coming down the ladder, her backpack clutched in one hand. He took it from her before she fell. “You didn’t have to get up,” he said.

  “I’m not going to go back to sleep,” she said, barely meeting his eye. She took in the bucket and bowls and said, “Let’s go get fruit and veggies.” She bent and extracted the tarp from her backpack. “And we can explore before it gets too hot.”