I scream and jump back three feet rather than moving forward.
At first, I think it might just be the fact that I downed four cocktails like my life depended on it because I couldn’t get the picture of some woman with her arms wrapped around my husband out of my head, but no. There’s definitely something moving.
I scream again when it comes closer.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Kat. What?”
The flashlight beam bounces before it zeroes in on the creature.
I grip Dane’s shoulder, two seconds from climbing up on his back. “What the hell is that? I almost stepped on it.” I suck in a breath, letting the words trail off as my heart hammers.
“The crab?”
A crab? More like a blue-shelled monster the diameter of a salad plate with one big claw waving above his head.
The creature scuttles off the path and out of the light. Dane shifts the flashlight beam to follow it, and I hide behind his back and peek over. Oh God. The crab isn’t alone. I scoot back another step, almost losing my balance when I see at least a dozen more of those monsters creeping their way across the sand toward a pile of fallen coconuts.
“They’re harmless. Just don’t step on one. You might get pinched.”
Harmless? Clearly, we have different definitions of the word.
“Did you see that claw? I’d lose a toe. Or a limb.” I could be exaggerating in my fairly inebriated state, but I don’t care.
“He’s more scared of you than you are of him.”
I roll my eyes, but Dane can’t see my face to appreciate it. “That’s such a bullshit answer. People always say that when it’s not even true. You think it has enough brain cells to process fear? I don’t. That monster crab, which by the way looks like he stepped in that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle radioactive goo and got supersized, isn’t freaking scared of shit. He’d probably be laughing with all of his crab buddies about how loud I screamed if he was capable.”
I turn toward the group of crabs. “Maybe you’d be scared if I were dropping you in a pot to eat? How about that?”
Dane chokes out a laugh, but I’m too busy giving the double bird to the crabs as they creep away.
“Yeah, run, you little multi-legged freak show. Now you’re scared. Right?” I turn back toward Dane as he chuckles. The glow of the flashlight gives me enough light to see his face, and his lips are indeed tilted up.
“They definitely know who’s boss.”
I lift my chin. “Obviously.”
He points the flashlight ahead of us on the path, and sure enough, several more crabs scurry out of the beam, some way too close for comfort.
I don’t think about it this time. I throw myself at Dane and climb him like a spider monkey.
“Shit. What are you—”
“They’re not scared of me,” I whisper, clinging to his shoulders. “But I might be the tiniest bit scared of them, even though they know I’m the boss.”
Dane shifts me in his arms and hefts me higher.
I’m not the lightest girl in the world, but it’s good to know he can still handle my weight. He spends plenty of time in the gym, so it’s not a huge surprise, but now I have to wonder if he’s working out with Arianna.
I say the name in a snotty voice in my head. Petty jealousy. That’s all it is.
He said nothing happened, and I believe him. Dane wouldn’t lie to me.
If I actually paid closer attention to the things he told me, I wouldn’t have been quite so shocked, because I would have already been aware of Arianna’s existence.
I’m putting it out of my head. Over and done with. Buried.
At least I know I’m good at that.
Dane takes a step forward, and I wrap my arms more securely around his neck. He smells freaking amazing, and my thoughts from earlier come back.
My husband is hot, and it’s been way too long since I’ve taken the time to appreciate it properly.
The wind whips off the ocean in the distance, and a chunk of my hair escapes my messy bun and flies into my face. Dane tucks it behind my ear before clicking off the flashlight.
“Hey!” I grip him tighter.
“Look up.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
My nature demands I ask more questions, but instead I follow his quiet order and look up.
“Oh, wow,” I whisper.
The clouds have cleared and stars, big and brilliant against the inky blackness, illuminate the sky.
I’ve never understood the whole diamonds in the sky analogy living where I have. Stars are stars. Nothing incredible.
I’d never seen them like this before, though.
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“Incredible.”
I squeeze him tighter and lose track of time as it occurs to me just how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of life. It seems there’s nothing like millions of sparkling stars to make you feel both awestruck and inconsequential.
It’s a reminder I need. I spend so much time down in the weeds, dealing with problems for clients that seem monumental in that moment, I lose sight of everything else. Maybe that’s by design so I don’t have time to think about the big picture.
As I look at those stars, I make a vow to remember how tiny I feel right now. To remember that the issues in my life are rarely life and death, and give myself the permission to breathe. I just hope I remember this tomorrow. Freaking Purple Rain.
“How good are your navigation-by-the-stars skills?” Dane asks, interrupting the silence.
I laugh at his question. “I would have to go with nonexistent.”
Dane lifts our joined hands into the air and points at the one constellation that I can identify. “You know the Big Dipper, right? Ursa Major.”
“Yes, but not the fancy term.”
“Follow the last star up and you’ll find the brightest star in the sky. Polaris. The North Star, part of the Little Dipper.”
“Ursa Minor?”
“Good girl.”
“The North Star will always get you home.” I laugh because there’s no way, even with that knowledge, I would be able to find my way home. “Maybe it’ll always get you home, but I’m a different story.”