AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hey, I went through it. What about my modesty?”
A slow smile crept across his face. “Oh, that is a completely different situation.”
They made their way to the gate and sat down to wait.
When it was time to board, Hope groaned. The plane was tiny, with only eight seats, one on each side of the aisle. “I hate these things. You feel every little bump.”
“What were you expecting? A 747 for a twenty-minute flight?” Alex laughed. “I’ve flown in them lots of times. You’ll be fine.” He put his arm around her as they walked across the tarmac, Hope trying to ignore the ball of anxiety in her gut.
A few minutes later, she was tightly buckled into her seat, maintaining a death grip on the armrests. She darted a glance across the aisle at Alex, who was sprawled out with one leg in the aisle, leafing through the in-flight magazine and completely unconcerned. She mock glared at him and without looking, his face broke into a smile.
“I knew you could see me over there.”
He put the magazine down. “You want to sit in my lap? We can ask if they’ll allow it. Might get lucky.”
“You’re impossible.” But now she was smiling a little.
The front door shut, and the plane taxied out, speeding bumpily down the runway until it became airborne. They were about twenty feet off the ground when they hit the first jolt of turbulence. Hope increased her death grip and looked over at Alex. He was fast asleep, with his head leaning against the window.
Twenty endless, turbulent minutes later, they touched down with a hard thump on St. Thomas and she breathed an enormous sigh of relief.
Alex finally woke up and stretched, turning to Hope. “We there already?”
She glared as he grinned at her.
Thank God we’re taking the boat back.
* * *
Their taxi wound around the narrow two-lane road and up and down steep hills until they arrived at a restaurant named Rock City Grill. Alex opened the front door and ushered Hope through. It was only 8 a.m. and the place was deserted.
“At least the door was unlocked,” Hope said before calling out, “Hello?”
A pair of swinging doors to their right opened and a man with shining dark skin approached and boomed, “Well, good mornin’!” He looked to be in his late fifties with salt-and-pepper hair.
“Mr. McBride?” Hope asked. At his nod, she introduced herself and Alex.
“Call me Baxter!” He beckoned to them as he walked toward the rear of the restaurant. “Come on—she’s in the canal out back. You’re gonna love her!”
The group made their way through the dark restaurant and emerged into the bright sunlight. After the cave-like interior, Hope dug her sunglasses out of her bag to ease the strain on her eyes. The dive boat was tied up in front of them, alongside a brick-paved walkway lining a canal that ran behind the building.
The boat was blinding white in the sun, sleek with a half-covered main deck and a large open fiberglass area on the bow, perfect for sunbathing. From the main deck, a ladder extended to a small second-story elevated wheelhouse. Baxter and Alex continued onboard so he could show off the boat’s features while Hope made her way down the walkway to the stern. Alex deposited a large backpack he’d been carrying under the covered canopy and climbed the ladder to stand with Baxter behind the steering column on the elevated bridge.
Hope inspected the stern to read the name. “Surface Interval, huh?”
Baxter beamed down at her. “Great name for a dive boat, yes?”
Hope boarded the boat and climbed the ladder to the elevated wheelhouse, inspecting the gauges in the wood-grain console while the two men discussed aspects of the throttle system. They returned to the main deck and inspected the engine. The boat was spotless, and all the surfaces were in good condition. She was very pleased with it and could tell Alex was impressed.
“I think I’ve got everything I need to know. It’s in great shape. You ready to head out, Hope?”
“Yes, let’s go.” She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.
Baxter stood up. “No, wait! I have somethin’ for you both. Wait right here.” He disappeared into the restaurant, only to return a few minutes later with a large picnic basket in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other with a Styrofoam cooler tucked under that arm. “My wife insisted on sendin’ you off in style! Have a nice picnic lunch on the way, compliments of the McBrides.”
Hope was touched at his thoughtfulness and thanked him for the bounty.
“I know a small islet where we can stop and have lunch,” Alex said to her. “It’s about forty-five minutes from the resort and south of the main channel. I’d like to get across the channel as soon as possible, though. The seas will be lower in the morning.”
