Going Under (Wildfire Lake 2)
“No, it’s a sailboat. They need the wind to help them move, so oceans are better for them.”
“You’re leaving?” Violet asks, brow furrowed. I want all the same answers, yet I don’t. My gut is telling me this woman is the worst kind of heartache. But my heart is so busy looking at Kat with flowers and rainbows, the warning doesn’t stick.
“Eventually,” she says, “but it will be a while. I still have a lot of work to do at the marina.”
“Where will you go?” Violet asks.
“I’m not sure yet. I have a few favorite places, but I’d like to see some places I haven’t been to yet. I’ll make a plan once the time gets closer. For now, I’m happy where I am.”
For now. It’s another blow. I’m beginning to understand why she doesn’t want long-term commitments.
I study Violet’s face to try to figure out how she’s taking this news. She’s still frowning, and because I know her, I see the disappointment in the set of her shoulders.
Right there with you, baby.
“What if you were really happy here?” Violet asks. “Would you stay?”
This draws KT’s complete attention. She smiles and strokes a strand of Violet’s hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry, sweetie, we can still talk. I’ll send you pictures and texts and emails. When you get old enough, like maybe after college, you can come visit me wherever I happen to be.”
Violet’s gaze swings toward me, but she doesn’t ask the Can I? brimming in her eyes. She just refocuses on the puzzle with a newly disinterested air.
“You won’t stay on after the property sells?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t work there. I’m one of the investors in the renovation—part cash, part skill.”
“So, you’ll take the money you make off the sale and buy a boat?”
“That’s the plan.”
Based on the property values in the area, I imagine that will be quite a windfall. “How did you and the other women meet? Did you go to school together?”
“No. We survived a cyclone together.”
“What?” I say, unsure I heard her right.
“What’s a cyclone?” Poppy asks.
“It’s the same as a hurricane,” she says. “I was on an island in the South Pacific at a spiritual retreat and what was forecast as a tropical storm that should have missed the island turned into a category-five cyclone that jackknifed and rolled directly over us.”
“Man,” I say, “I’d love to hear that story.”
“I was diving when it hit.” She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “That’s probably the craziest thing that ever happened to me, and I’ve had a lot of crazy things happen to me.”
Her smile dims, and her expression grows thoughtful as she goes on. “I almost died trying to get to shore, but Laiyla”—she looks at the girls—“you know Laiyla at the marina, with the long dark hair? She noticed me missing and braved the storm to help me get to land. And Chloe, the blonde woman, helped me get to safety. The three of us were trapped together in a tiny space for about twelve hours.”
The girls are riveted, and I want to hear every detail of those twelve hours.
But she shrugs and looks at me as she returns to our previous conversation. “I have friends in different parts of the world keeping an eye out for any incredible deals on sailboats for me.”
Of course, I immediately wonder if these “friends” are previous hookups.
“And you don’t have any idea where you’ll go?” I ask. “What are some of your favorite places?”
“Thailand and Vietnam, for sure. They’re just dreamy.” She looks at me. “Ever been?”
“No.”
“Really amazing,” she says with reverence edged in bliss. “Maldives, Bali, Fiji are a given.”