“Well, hello,” the woman said with a cheery smile. “Who do we have here?”
The old man looked at me, his face scrunched up as he searched his brain for the name that I hadn’t given him.
“I’m Gavin,” I said, walking toward her with my hand extended.
“Hello, Gavin,” she said, shaking my hand with the gusto of a woman who was no stranger to hard work, but the softness in her eyes of a grandmother that should be baking apple pie. “I’m Sophie, and this old coot who was so rude to not introduce himself is Edwin.”
“It’s nice to meet both of you.” I didn’t think that I had ever said anything more sincere.
“Can I get you some tea?”
Again, with the tea.
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
I followed her around the side of the house toward another firepit. A pot was settled in the glowing embers and she reached for the leaf-wrapped handle. She poured boiling water into a worn cup and tucked a linen-wrapped teabag into it before handing it to me.
“Here you go, sweetie. Drink this. It will make you feel much better.”
The smell coming from the cup was strongly floral and I could only imagine that this was not tea that she had picked up at the grocery store on the way out on her tropical vacation.
“Thank you,” I said.
“So, what brings you to our neck of the jungle?” Edwin asked, laughing at his own joke.
I rapidly went through the story in my head, trying to figure out how I could trim it and present it so that it wasn’t as offensive as it would be if I told them the truth.
“I was on my boat and got caught in a storm. I crashed on an island a little ways from here and then I used a safety raft to get here. Did you get stranded here, too?”
The two stared at me for a few seconds before shaking their heads slowly.
“Nope,” Edwin said. “No, can’t say we did. We’ve been homesteading this place for a little bit now. It was kind of a dream of ours as young folks.”
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“Oh. Well…” Edwin sighed and looked into the distance as if trying to calculate. Apparently, time had gotten out of his grasp, too. “Seems to me like it’s been about…. oh…. forty years.”
Holy shit.
I tried to withhold my grimace.
“I guess you don’t have a boat?” I asked.
“No. That’s one thing we don’t have,” Sophie said. “We just never saw need of it.”
My head dropped and I rubbed my fingers into my forehead.
“How am I going to get out of here?” I asked, not really intended on saying it loud enough for them to hear me.
As nice as they seemed, I really didn’t relish the thought of becoming their tribal neighbor.
“Why don’t you just use the phone?”
My eyes snapped up to look over my hand at Edwin.
“The phone?” I asked.
Was this a coconut shells and vines situation?
“Sure,” Sophie said. “You go right ahead.” She gestured toward the shack. “Oh, wait. I’m going to have to come with you.”
I let her go in front of me and I fell into step behind her, letting her guide me to the front door of the house. As soon as I stepped inside I knew that I was not dealing with people quite as crazy as I thought. In front of me I saw a long table set up with various pieces of equipment, including a satellite telephone.
“Now, you’re going to have to give me just a minute to get the juices going. When it’s ready, keep in mind that it’s not going to sound super clear.”
“Get the juices going?” I asked.
“Here you go, Sugar Dumpling,” Edwin said.
I looked up and saw the elderly man dragging what looked like and old bicycle out of a room to the back of the house. He brought it up to the side of the table and attached a cable on it to a generator sitting on the floor.
“Thank you, Sweetie Lump,” Sophie said, walking toward the bicycle.
What the hell is going on here, Coconut Pants?
Edwin took Sophie’s hand carefully and helped her up onto the bike. She grasped the handlebars and positioned her feet on the pedals. Her pedaling was slow and labored at first, and I had my doubts that she had the strength to really get going, but then she seemed to get into a rhythm.
“Um,” I started, “what’s happening?”
“I haven’t fueled up the generator in a bit,” Sophie said as though that completely explained everything.
“Are you alright?” I asked. “Do you want me to do that for you?”
Sophie waved me away and made a few little sounds that reminded me of a chicken.
“Don’t be silly. This is what keeps me young. Gets the joints going.”
Perfect.
I had downed the entire cup of tea by the time that she was finished on the bike and I was questioning what she had put in it. I could have sworn I was feeling a bit of a buzz. Edwin picked up the receiver on the phone and held it out toward me, then pulled it back to hold it against his chest.
“Is it long distance?” he asked.
He stared at me for a few awkward, stony-faced seconds and then dissolved into a cascade of tobacco-laced giggles.
“Oh, you,” Sophie said, whacking her husband playfully in the center of the chest.
Edwin handed me the phone and gathered Sophie into his arms for a decidedly sloppy kiss. I couldn’t decide if that was adorable or sickening, so I turned away from them and dialed the number, drawing in a breath as I prepared to explain to my client what was happening.
Chapter Nineteen
Eleanor
The next morning, I woke with the heat of Hunter's body molded around mine. It enveloped me with the warmth and sweet, musky scent that still lingered from the night before. He stretched and kissed my cheek.
"Good morning," he murmured against my skin.
His voice was smooth and contented, seemingly changed by the fulfillment of the desire and tension that had built up between us. As much as I enjoyed knowing how much I had satisfied him, I found myself wanting to coax it back into the husky arousal and deep, grumbling pleasure that it held the night before. As if he could hear my thoughts, Hunter rolled me onto my back. He leaned forward and ran his tongue along the side of my breast. I felt his teeth nip into my skin and I made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a giggle. Hunter pushed back away from me and stood, walking across the plateau where we had slept the rest of the night.
He went to the same boulder where he had hidden the supply box full of condoms and returned with a basket of fruit. The leaves were barely holding together under the weight of the fruit, but Hunter was holding it together in an effort to preserve my feelings. As he got closer I noticed that there was a knife tucked into the basket with the fruit.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” I asked.
He winked at me and lowered to his knees in front of me. He pressed one hand to the middle of my chest and eased me back from the reclining position that I was in to lying down again.
I rested my head on my bent arm so that I could watch Hunter as he took the knife out of the basket and selected one of the pieces of fruit. He cupped the fruit in his palm and sliced it open with the knife, revealing the juicy salmon-colored interior. Using the tip of his knife, he flicked out the large black seeds and then made small slits along the flesh. He put the knife back into the basket and pushed the basket aside. Setting one half of the fruit aside, he brought the other half up and squeezed it so that a stream of juice ran down onto my chest. I gasped at the unexpected feeling and Hunter dove forward, catching the dripping juice with his mouth.