Unseen Messages

That faith.

I kissed her collarbone, breathing softly with restrained need. “You’re amazing.”

She shuddered as I licked her ear lobe. Salt exploded on my tongue, snarling my stomach for more, confusing itself on food it could eat and passion it could only torment with.

It took a lot of effort but I managed to let her go. My cock had thickened and I subtly placed my free hand in front of my board-shorts. “What do you say we cook these babies and eat?”

Her smile was pure bliss. “I say that’s the best plan I’ve ever heard.”

“I’ve got a better plan—after food, of course.”

Her eyes hooded. “Oh?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Because my plan isn’t exactly approved by you.” Mindful of being watched by Pippa and Conner, I murmured, “It includes finishing what we started. The last time we kissed, I didn’t want to stop, and you had no intention of letting me continue.”

Her breath picked up. “You want to kiss me?”

My stomach clenched. “More than anything.”

“More than clams for dinner and fresh water from your invention?”

“More than lobster tails dripping in butter.”

She moaned dramatically. “Well, I don’t know. That’s a hard choice. I do really love lobster.”

I growled, playing along. Knowing we could finally have a decent feed put all of us in a happier mood. “What if I promised you’d like me better than lobster?”

“That’s a big boast to make.”

“I never break my promises.”

“Is that a challenge?”

I leaned closer, our noses almost touching. “Do you want it to be?”

“A challenge of letting you kiss me?”

I shook my head. “No, a challenge of making you fall in love with me.”





Chapter Twenty-Three


...............................................

E S T E L L E

......

A door closes, a window opens.

A window closes, a car arrives.

A car stops, a plane flies.

A plane lands, a helicopter soars.

A helicopter crashes, life ends.

Life ends, a new world begins.

A new world ends, a person evolves.

A person evolves and finds

fear

terror

hunger

questions

desperation

struggle and strife and sadness

true happiness.

Taken from the notepad of E.E.

...

MY SKIN BURNED.

Not from too much sun or getting too close to the fire.

But from him.

I burned.

Everywhere.

Galloway’s lips still tormented my flesh, even though minutes had passed since he’d kissed my neck, my collarbone...my ear.

I was starving.

For both food and him.

I was confused.

For both help and privacy.

I was hurting.

For both rescue and desire.

Two extremes.

Both as strong as the other.

“No, a challenge of making you fall in love with me.”

Galloway’s voice repeated over and over, spindling my heart until it became a blur.

Who felt like this? Who willingly let sex fill their mind when they’d been helicopter-wrecked with no way of being free?

Me, apparently.

I’d become someone I didn’t like. Someone who let her needs control her rather than common sense.

My stomach growled, taking centre stage with rumbling cymbals.

At least, I had another need. One more acceptable in our current condition.

Hunger.

I couldn’t stop looking at the messenger bag full of delicious clams. My body demanded I fall to my knees, crack open a shell, and slurp out the raw meat that very second.

But no matter how it pressured me, the other type of starving never let me go.

The sexual type.

A desperation that had no business here. I had to focus on staying alive. How was my body even capable of wasting energy on such silly things? Why did my heart torture itself whenever Galloway looked at me? And why, when faced with a bag full of dinner or a man who promised he’d make me fall in love with him, did I want him more than food?

He made me glow.

His eyes held rescue and freedom and safety, placing me on a pedestal I had no right to occupy.

He looks at me as if he’s unworthy.

I trembled as my thoughts careened. Who was he? What was his story? Why did he remind me of a fallen seed: closed off and unapproachable on the outside but bursting with the most beautiful ready-to-bloom oak tree on the inside?

Stop it, Estelle. This isn’t scripture for your notebook. This isn’t a song. This is real life. Pay attention and survive it!

Galloway moved away, a sad smile on his lips. Sad? Why was he sad? He’d just admitted he was up to the challenge of making me fall in love with him.

Here.

On this island.

He spoke of finding love amongst palm trees and empty beaches.

So why did the frown never leave his forehead? Why did the darkness never leave his eyes?

Stop it!

“So...how did you create this cheery blaze?” Galloway asked, slapping Conner on the back as he hobbled past. His eyes locked onto the salvaged fuselage, plans already forming on his face like blueprints.

Conner winked, exuding happiness. And he should be happy. We had water to drink, food to eat, and fire to cook with.