“A couple of hours,” he says as he looks me over, those vivid blue eyes shining brighter than ever. “I would have let you sleep throughout the night, but it’s important that you eat. You were lost at sea for a long time and need nourishment.”
I groan as I close my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “Did you order a pizza?”
He chuckles. “Unfortunately, we’re a little far for delivery. But I have something else for you. I hope very much that you’ll like it.”
I hope that too. If he dumps a dead warthog on my plate, I might have some issues.
He steps back as I get out of the hammock and shake out my shirt. It’s still damp and my underwear and shorts are even worse. Is there a worse feeling than being stuck in thick wet clothes for hours? Oh yeah, there is. Being stranded on a desert island and knowing that a rescue is out of the question. That’s much worse than a wet wedgie stuck up your butt.
“I have something more comfortable for you, my love,” he says as he walks over to a crate beside a tree. I hadn’t even noticed it since the rotting wood is blending into its surroundings.
I watch, fascinated, as he lifts the heavy lid and pulls out a bundle of colorful purple material. It’s thin and light and my eyes widen with desire as he brings it over.
“What is this?” I ask as he gives it to me, although I already recognize it as a pashmina. It’s like silk in my hands and is thin enough that I can see the sunlight leaking through it, but thick enough that it covers any private areas that shouldn’t be exposed to hot muscular men you just met.
“Containers fall off of cargo ships,” he says casually as he watches me admiring the beautiful material, “planes go down, things get lost at sea all the time, not to mention the giant garbage patches full of useful stuff floating around. Some of these items wash up on shore from time to time.”
“This washed up on shore?”
“Two years ago,” he says, looking up at the sky. “Or three. My sense of time is a little woozy, but one day, I found it floating near the shore. I thought it was a stingray at first and I ran out to spear it. There it was, floating around, destined for you.”
I take a deep breath and look at it, feeling the soft fabric as I admire the intricate designs. I imagine this pashmina wrapped around a gorgeous young woman on a luxury cruise. She places it on her lounge chair and then goes for a swim. The wind takes it, sends it over the edge into the ocean. How far did it travel to get to me? Was it lost at sea longer than I was?
“These are not island clothes,” he says as he waves his hand at my thick polo and cargo shorts. “They’ll never dry and you’ll begin to chafe.”
I sigh, knowing he’s right. I already want them off.
“Get dressed, my love,” he says casually, like we’re a married couple of twenty years about to go out to dinner. “I’ll be waiting to take you to your feast.”
I’m still in shock as I watch him walk over to the spectacular view of the ocean hitting the rocks down below at the bottom of the cliff. He keeps his back to me, giving me some privacy.
I don’t want to change in front of someone, especially a man I just met, and the thought of being naked under this thin fabric is making my heart beat double time with nerves.
But he is right. These clothes are the worst. I need to get them off.
My pulse is racing as I stand up and quickly unbutton my shorts. I keep darting glances at him to make sure he’s not peeking as I pull them down my legs. I take my shirt off and quickly hold the pashmina against my semi-naked body.
Carson is a perfect gentleman and doesn’t try to look, which I appreciate. There’s nothing stopping him from doing whatever he wants. There’s no way I can overpower a hulking man like him and like it or not, there are zero laws out here in the wilderness.
I take off my bra and then quickly wrap the pashmina around my body into the shape of a strapless dress. With my eyes on my new roommate, I slide my underwear down and lay it out in the sun out of view.
“Is there…” I mumble as I reach into the pocket of my cargo shorts. Yes! The hair elastic I shoved in there is still there. I smile for small victories as I pull my hazel hair up into a messy bun and secure it with the elastic.