Chapter Seventeen

Lola

I'm floating on a cloud made of salty sea air when we step back on the Dutch-ess . "That was one of the coolest things I've ever experienced," I say with a breathy laugh as Perry starts up the engine.

"It's one of my favorite places to sneak away to."

Instead of imagining being the one to sneak away with him, I pull up some of the photos I took and show him the screen. "Look at this. I still can't believe I caught a picture of a baby sea turtle."

Perry humors me and leans close to take a peek at the photo. "Me neither. It's cute, though."

I blink up at him with exaggerated wonder. "Did Perry Ford just use the word cute ?"

A harsh scoff sounds from him as he steers the boat toward Willow Cove. "Come on. I'm allowed to use the word cute in reference to animals. Bertie's cute." As if to say, You bet I am , the little pug at our feet snorts.

"Yeah, I know. But you're the guy with the hat that says ‘Bite Me.' The guy I'm pretty sure would've actually bitten me had I waltzed onto your boat without an explanation."

His eyes rove over me, and I swear they catch on my lips. "I wouldn't have bitten you for that," he says as if there would be a situation in which he might bite me. It must be my imagination playing tricks on me. That or Perry's eyes darken and really do linger on my—in my opinion—very bitable lips. Inappropriate images of us grabbing and nipping at each other flash through my mind at lightning speed until he clears his throat and faces forward.

YOWZA.

Embarrassed by the turn of my thoughts, I crouch and pick up Bertie, running my fingers through her soft, pudgy side rolls.

"Looks like we might get caught in a storm." When I glance at Perry, his scowling, upturned face examines the sky above us. "We can try to make it back, but if we end up getting rained on, there's a couple ponchos in the cabin." He points to the bench seat across from me.

"Okay." I tip my face toward the clouds that seem to gather and grow darker by the second. "What happens if it storms? Like bad enough to cause big waves and stuff?"

I've never been caught out in a storm before. My experience on boats has been limited to sunny days and light drizzle, thanks to a job that can only be performed in favorable weather conditions.

"If it storms, we ride it out." He briefly meets my eyes as he turns his hat backward, then sets his hands back on the wheel. "But there's nothing to be afraid of, okay?"

I nod before burying my face in Bertie's rolls. I've always felt safe with Perry, even when he's been gruff with me. His entire person screams solid, trustworthy stability. I have no doubt that if we get caught up in a storm, he'll get us safely to shore.

Just as I think it, a strong gust of wind picks up, whipping my hair around my face. Perry turns to me with a serious expression. "Better put your life jacket on just to be safe."

I hurriedly nod and set Bertie on her feet before shuffling through the compartment next to me for a red life jacket that looks like it came straight out of 1980. "How old is this thing?" I hold it out to Perry, who sighs loudly enough to be heard over the rolling waves and whistling wind.

"Just put the thing on, Lola."

Rolling my eyes and muttering, "Yes, sir," I raise the life jacket over my head, then buckle it across my chest. It's a bit loose, so I take a second to cinch the straps. At that exact second, we hit a large wave that sends me careening backward onto my butt.

"Sorry." Perry utters a panicked apology as I scramble to my knees. "I'd help you up, but the waves are getting too choppy. I need to focus on getting us back to Willow Cove."

His honesty sends an icy dread through me.

"Do you think you could put Bertie in her life jacket too?" He points down below. "It's hanging on a hook by the ladder."

"Sure." Rain comes out of nowhere and starts pelting my face as I crawl toward the ladder that leads down to the cabin.

"Maybe grab me a poncho while you're down there."

"Sure!" This time I have to raise my voice over the wind and rain. Grabbing onto the handrests beside the opening to the cab, I lift myself onto the ladder, then descend into the blessedly dry, though a tad musty, interior.

I look in all the obvious places where I think the ponchos might be kept but have no luck finding any. Rushing to the bottom of the ladder, I call up, "Where did you say the ponchos were?"

"There are a couple in the drawer underneath the bench." Sure enough, there are two army green ponchos in the drawer. They smell as old as I am. I grab them, then do a quick scan and locate Bertie's life jacket. Once my arms are full, I trek back up the ladder and hold out a poncho to Perry.

"Sorry, that took a minute" I say when I discover how soaked his white T-shirt is. My eyes involuntarily shift to the way the sopping material highlights every one of his sculpted abs. And my thoughts are immediately back on how shirtless he was last night.

He takes the poncho from me and murmurs, "Eyes up here, Lo."

Another sorry spills from my lips as I turn and locate Bertie hunkered down under a pile of netting. "Aw, come here, girl." I strap on the little doggie life jacket, laughing at the fact that hers looks brand new while mine feels like most of the padding has simply given up. "Let's get you downstairs, huh?"

Tucking her close to me, I head back down into the cabin and deposit her on the floor. She curls under the table where a fuzzy blanket—probably her favorite—lies balled up. As soon as I turn around, an angry curse followed by a loud thump startles me. I'm then tipping sideways, bracing myself with an outstretched hand before I can fully comprehend that Perry must've lost control of the boat.

"I'm coming!" I call, terror slipping through my veins. I dart up the steps, then let out a cry at the sight of Perry sprawled on the boat deck, blood pulsing from his forehead. "Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh." Kneeling next to him, I go to reach for the wound but stop before I make contact. Rain peppers his face, and he doesn't so much as flinch. "Perry? Can you hear me?"

Nothing. No response at all.

My heart plummets to the ocean floor. Leaning my cheek against his chest, I listen for his heartbeat and nearly cry with relief when I hear it thumping loud and strong. Thunder cracks loudly overhead as another wave rocks the boat hard enough to send water sloshing over the side. I lock eyes on the wheel, knowing what I need to do.

Turning back to Perry, I pull his poncho up over his head to keep him as dry as possible and notice the rain has already started to wash away some of the blood from his gash. It looks like a nasty knot, but I can't do anything for it until we're safely back in Willow Cove.

"I'll be right back," I mutter, squeezing his shoulder and rising to my feet.

Grabbing hold of the steering wheel, I go over the mini lesson Perry gave me on the way here. I vaguely remember his words from earlier. At night these two posts light up, so anyone making their way back to the harbor can't miss ‘em.

It's extremely difficult to see through the rain and wind ahead, but I do my best to focus on my surroundings. For too long, I don't see anything. I force myself to keep steady hands at the wheel while I glance at the navigation tools. We should be going northwest, right? Didn't he say the island was south of Willow Cove?

I shake my head as I realize how ridiculous I am for thinking I can man this boat all by myself. Perry would never allow me to take full control of his boat if he was conscious. He'll probably be horrified when he wakes up and finds out I did.

If he wakes up…

Tears collect on my lashes before they stream a hot path down my cheeks. I'm so out of my depth here, so lost…And all I can do is hope and pray that Perry will be all right. That we will both be all right in the end.

A light flickers up ahead in the distance, sparking hope in my heart for the faintest millisecond. Just enough for me to cling to. I gently steer the wheel in the light's direction and pray that I wasn't just seeing things.

The Dainty Dutch-ess follows each command of the wheel, and before long, the light glows brighter. Then I see two.

"Oh, thank God," I mutter to myself. Chancing a glance back at Perry, I see that he's still as lifeless as he was when I left him. I have no idea how I'll move someone as big as him to get him dry, but I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

All I know is that we're going to be okay…We are going to be okay .

By some miracle, we make it into the harbor and back to the dock in one piece. It got a little hairy when I had to try and "park" the boat, but thank God for the giant buoys hanging off the sides that acted like bumpers.

Once I tie off the boat as best as I know how, the rain lightens into more of a drizzle. Perry still hasn't moved. I crouch behind him, then rest his head and shoulders on my knees. "Perry?" With a gentle hand, I pat his cheeks. "Perry, can you hear me?"

A flutter of his eyelids brings air back to my chest. "Oh, thank God," I breathe, leaning closer to him and giving him a shake. "Perry, wake up!"

"Hm?" With a groan, he opens his eyes. A deep furrow knits his eyebrows as he locks eyes with me. "Lola?"

A watery laugh loosens a tear from my eye. "Hey, you."

"Did I…hit my head?" His hand immediately goes to the wound, but I push it back.

"Easy there. I don't want you to hurt yourself." He doesn't resist and instead laces his fingers with mine. The rain seems to be keeping the wound clean, at least. When I look down, his blue eyes are still trained on my face.

"You're so…fetching."

A laugh bubbles out of me, and I try to cover it up with my hand. His words are a bit slurred, but he sounds so adorable and sleepy that I almost don't want to get up for help.

"That's so sweet of you to say, but Perry, I need to find some help for you, okay? Someone who knows what they're doing needs to check out your head wound." I would've called 911 already, but my stupid phone died during the storm.

That furrow between his eyes deepens. "No. I don't want you to leave." His fingers, still laced with mine, squeeze tightly.

"Perry, you were knocked out cold for a while. It would be best to get you checked out."

"I will," he says and blinks slowly. "I promise. But can you just stay with me for a little while longer?"

His speech sounds clearer than it did a moment ago, giving me hope he's at least not in imminent danger. "Perry—"

"Please, Lo."

A sigh drains out of me. I mean, he is coherent and talking. Plus, he knows who I am.

"Look, I've had worse wounds than this." A chuckle rumbles through him and his eyes close. "Please just stay with me for a few minutes. Then you can leave."

I debate for a second longer, but when he wraps an arm around my waist and snuggles deeper into my lap, my resistance fades like the misting rain. "Only for a few minutes," I say and run my hand lightly through his thick hair. "Then I'll find someone to check on you."

I lean my head back against the fiberglass bench and close my eyes, relief that Perry is okay flowing through me. All the adrenaline that rushed through me while trying to get us back to safety slowly ebbs its way out of my body, leaving me exhausted. And before I know what's happening, I'm lost in a hazy dream.