Wash

“We’re just friends,” I said.

“The way you were staring at him?” He laughed. “I don’t think so. You were lookin’ at that boy like a crocodile looks at a chicken!”

Jake began to laugh.

My cheeks burned. “I was not!”

Jake’s grin grew even wider.

“I wasn’t,” I retorted.

Our photographer held up his binoculars. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll keep an eye out for any company of the fin and toothy variety.”

I swallowed hard. “Why does that make me a little nervous?”

“We’ll be fine,” Jake said, grinning. “C’mon. Let’s have some fun. It’s not every day you get to splash around in Jaws’s backyard.”

When he clasped his hand around mine, my skin began to tingle. His warm, soft fingers rubbed against the back of my hand lightly as he pulled me toward the reef, and I softly tugged my hand away; Jake had no right to hold my hand like we were lovers on some excursion.

I dived deeper, to a point where the visibility was awesome. The reef was beautifully decorated in a kaleidoscope of marine life, from clusters of colorful anemones to large sponges, coral, and starfish. Thick carpets of strawberry anemones covered the bottom, and Jurassic-sized sea fans swayed in the current like branches in the wind. I noticed every light and shadow and thought about how wonderful they would be to capture with my own camera.

I grinned at passing tropical fish all decked out in startling reds, blues, greens, and yellows. There had to be zillions of them. My eyes opened wide as I noted their sparkling appearance, complex patterns, and vibrant coloration. The spots, stripes, and shapes were all as different as snowflakes, and some shapes and patterns I couldn’t even identify with my vocabulary.

Jake’s black hair flowed out in the water, waving back and forth with the rhythm of the sea. A stream of bubbles came out of his mouth as he smiled, his eyes wide. He picked up a huge stingray measuring at least five feet across from wingtip to wingtip. I reached out and touched the gentle giant as it swam out of Jake’s hands and disappeared into the sandy sea bottom. Too cool! It felt soft and slimy, like a big, wet Portobello mushroom.

I resurfaced and gasped for air, then dived down again. I kicked hard to propel myself forward, gliding over a beautiful coral garden. The formations offered vivid patterns, fantastic shapes, weird textures, and unique colors I’d never seen before, all bolder, brighter, and more brilliant than any I’d noticed on previous dives. I couldn’t resist touching a colony of green coral as I swam by, and when I did, in an instant, the entire colony changed from green to red, like some mermaid’s Christmas decoration.

I burst through the surface. Sucking in long gulps of air, I noticed radiant sunbeams glinting in Jake’s blue eyes; in the sunlight, they were absolutely blazing blue, and I’d always been a sucker for baby blues.

“How are you doing?” Jake asked.

“Good. How about you? Are you doing okay?”

He nodded and said between breaths, “This place is…it’s incredible…all those colors and…the fish.” With that, he let out a soft groan and turned away.

I touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

His jaw set into a grimace. “I cut my leg on the coral, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

My lips pressed into a grim line. “Nothing to worry about? C’mon, Macho Man. Let’s get you back to the boat and all bandaged up.”

“Aw. That’s so cute,” he said.

I stammered, shocked and a bit insulted by his condescension. “What?”

“You still care.”

I rolled my eyes. “There are two things I care about in this instance. One, if you get an infection, you might not be able to finish the journey, and I’ll lose my inheritance. Two, if sharks smell that blood you’re leaking all over the place, we both might lose our limbs. I’m not willing to risk it, so turn your stubborn butt around and swim back to the boat.”

He grinned. “That’s not it at all. I saw genuine concern in your eyes. You can give me a million excuses if you want, but deep down, I know you’re worried about me.”

“Whatever, Jake,” I said.

I waved our photographer captain over and told him that Jake had been injured. He motioned us back to the boat, and as soon as we were aboard, he sped off, heading back to our island oasis. Fortunately, Jake’s gash wasn’t severe, and it only required a bit of peroxide and a little gauze. I almost laughed when the peroxide stung him, but I managed to hold my tongue.

We spent a few days in Australia, only talking when absolutely necessary. I tried to stay away from our shared room as much as possible by going out and exploring the island. Making small talk with him in the hotel was more than I could bear. The man was supposed to my husband. If things had gone according to plan, we would have been enjoying sunset dinners, staring lovingly into one another’s eyes, then heading back to our room to make love all night. Instead, we weren’t even friends and were nothing more than hostile roommates, prisoners of one another’s forced company. I could barely tolerate him, but I knew I had to.

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