Marcus could see that Tito and Candace were getting ready to head back to the blanket, and he had a sudden urge to make this rare moment of détente last a little longer.
“Are you planning to come out and dive tomorrow?” he asked. “We’re pulling out of dock at dawn. My da has a feeling that the fish will be running near the spot you usually go in, so it’s no trouble if you want to tag along.”
She shrugged one tanned shoulder. “I’m not finding what I’m looking for at the depth I’ve been diving. I’m going to have to go quite a bit deeper the next time, and that means a longer dive, since I’ll have to come back up slowly to compensate. Is that going to be a problem?”
Only for his nerves, waiting for her to come back up from the dark and treacherous depths of the ocean. “No, not at all. As long as I can be back on board in time to help them pull in the nets when they’re done, the guys and my da should be able to manage the rest without me.”
He watched Tito’s progress out of the corner of one eye, trying to gauge how much time he had left before the other two rejoined them.
“Uh, do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?” He braced himself to hear her say she was going out with that guy Kesh again; it seemed like he was always around these days. Staking out his territory, which just happened to include Beka, apparently.
“Nothing definite,” she said. “Why?”
“It’s no big deal, but a couple of the guys I knew from high school asked me to meet them in Santa Carmelita tomorrow night. There’s some sort of barbeque on the beach, with fireworks and stuff, and they’ve been asking me to get together and do something since I got back, so I really couldn’t say no.” He took a deep breath. “The thing is, I’m not great with crowds these days, and explosions, well, they make me kind of edgy. I thought if you went with me, it would help remind me that I wasn’t in Afghanistan anymore.”
She lifted an eyebrow in question, but he didn’t know how to explain to her that something about being with her seemed to ground and calm him—even when she was frustrating the living crap out of him. It was as though the sunlight in her soul shined a light into the dark places in his. But there was no way he could put that into words without sounding like a complete idiot.
“Please?” he said instead. “It might even be fun. We don’t have to hang out with my friends the entire time.”
Beka nodded at Candace and her son, who were nearly back to where they were sitting. “Why don’t you ask them? I’m sure Tito would love fireworks.”
Marcus shook his head. “Past his bedtime, and I’m sure Candace has to work. Besides, I’d rather go with you. It’ll impress the hell out of my friends if I show up with a gorgeous blonde on my arm.”
Beka rolled her eyes at him, the movement barely visible behind her sunglasses, but a big grin slid across her face and a hint of a blush touched the top of her high cheekbones. “I suppose you want me to wear something low-cut with a short skirt too,” she said, choking back a laugh.
“Well, if you insist,” Marcus said. “I wouldn’t try and talk you out of it.” He held his breath, trying to remember that he didn’t really care if she came or not, that it was just to keep him from jumping every time they set off a sparkler. “So you’ll come?”
Her smile would have set the showiest fireworks display to shame. “It sounds like fun,” she said. “And I’ve got the perfect dress. It’s going to knock your socks off.”
Marcus wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he couldn’t wait to find out.
FOURTEEN
BEKA WAS FEELING ridiculously cheerful when she arrived back at the bus. Anticipation and excitement effervesced in her blood like bubbles in a champagne glass; sparkling and popping against the edges of her aura. A rosy glow seemed to suffuse her vision, rendering the mundane world unusually bright. A seagull’s raucous cry sounded like Mozart as she climbed the steep bluff with her surfboard on her shoulder, and the ragged, hardy weeds that grew to either side of the path were suddenly more beautiful than the loveliest hothouse orchids.
By the sea god’s beard, you have got to get a grip, she told herself sternly. It’s not a date. Marcus just needs someone to ground him in a tricky situation and you were the easiest person for him to ask. It didn’t matter. The stupid grin wouldn’t leave her face anyway.
She tucked the board away on its rack in the storage space under the bus and, giving in to impulse, spun around in an impromptu dance around the clearing, only stopping when she grew dizzy.
“What the hell has gotten into you?” Chewie was sitting in the open doorway of the bus, his mouth gaping open to display an impressive array of very sharp, very white teeth and a lolling black tongue. “Are you drunk? Or, I don’t know . . . possessed?”