For a moment, he remained frozen in place. Long enough to feel them climb the gentle rise of a wave and then slowly slide down the back side of the swell. Then, a fresh punch of adrenaline scorched his veins and lit a fire under his ass.
He did a mental inventory of his injuries while unbuckling himself. A hella bruised knee. Otherwise, nada. As Doc would say, he was “fit as a fiddle.”
Un-fucking-believable.
Scrambling out of the pilot’s chair, he didn’t realize he’d opened his mouth until he heard himself bellow, “Mia!”
Her answer was immediate. “I—I’m okay.” And her raspy voice had never sounded so sweet.
Clambering out of the cockpit—no easy feat since the aircraft had come to rest on its side and there were no horizontal surfaces to walk on—he nearly choked when the first sight to reach his searching eyes was Mia’s pretty face.
She was still strapped into her seat, although she leaned across the one next to her in a fight against gravity. Her hair was a riot of soft waves, proof that she’d been tumbled around like clothes in a dryer. And there was a small scratch on her chin. But apart from that, she seemed unhurt.
A quick scan showed him Doc and the lawyer were in about the same shape. And despite being a lapsed Catholic, he sent a quick word of thanks heavenward.
At some point during the ditching, Doc had regained consciousness. He blinked in confusion when he asked, “What happened?”
“We crashed,” Romeo told him, already on the move because they had minutes, maybe even seconds, before the plane started filling with water.
“Well, why did we go and do that for?” Doc’s tone was disgruntled.
Romeo ignored him as he partially ran/partially crawled over the rear seats toward the back of the plane where the inflatable life raft was stored. “Get unbuckled and get ready to leave the aircraft!” he yelled over his shoulder, coughing slightly as a wisp of smoke caught in his throat.
Velcro straps held the deflated watercraft to the wall. Removing those was easy. It was harder hoisting the heavy valise of rubber and coated polyester through the rear exit hatchway once he got it open. The life raft weighed nearly a hundred pounds, and with the Otter on its side, he was basically heaving the deflated raft straight over his head.
After a couple of seconds, and after a lot of grunting, he had the life raft resting on the outside of the plane.
He sure as shit didn’t want it slipping off and sinking—it was their only chance at survival—so he used one of the straps on the giant duffel to secure the raft to a portion of the locking mechanism on the door.
Determination and a cold sense of desperation had him yelling at his passengers. “This way! Quickly!”
He didn’t wait to see if they followed his orders before he began rummaging through the wreckage at the back of the Otter. Twisted metal and the various detritus of a crash met his gaze. But there. There!
He saw what he was looking for and nearly howled with victory that the case of bottled water appeared intact. No crushed bottles. No missing caps. Just twenty-four glorious containers of pure, life-sustaining H₂O.
Grabbing the plastic covering securing the bottles together, he lifted, expecting the weight of the water to hang heavy on the end of his arm. But the plastic had been torn, and it ripped away from the bottles in one solid sheet.
Shit! On to plan B.
“Here.” He thrust two bottles at the lawyer, who was the first to make her way to the back of the plane. “Load up as many as you can.”
She blinked at him, not getting why he wanted her to take the water when they’d just crash landed and were about to sink. They had more important shit to deal with, like, you know, not drowning.
Then understanding dawned in her eyes.
Her already pale cheeks went chalk white, but she unzipped her oversized purse and held it wide. “Stuff as many as you can inside.”
He didn’t hesitate, transferring eight bottles into her bag, and handing her two more, which she slid into the pockets of her pants.
“We’ll get you up through the exit,” he told her. “Once you’re outside, stay seated on the body of the plane. You might slide off if you try to stand. Doc, come help me.” He motioned with his chin toward his partner, who was last in line. “The ladies are going to need a boost.”
Just as he’d feared, the sea had started seeping into the plane. The ocean completely covered the tops of his flip-flops, and he could feel the warm water nipping at his ankles.
She’s going under.
He acknowledged the small pang in the center of his chest. His Otter was going under, but she’d held together until the bitter end.
She saved us.
“On my way.” Doc slipped past Mia, who stood on the arm of one seat while steadying herself against the headrest of another. When she swallowed, he saw her pulse fluttering in her throat. His gaze jumped to her eyes and...just as he’d thought. Her pupils had gone pinpoint.
“Breathe,” he told her as Doc pulled even with him and nodded that he was prepared to hoist the lawyer out of the aircraft.
“I thought I was.” Mia blew out a shuddering breath.
“Nope.” Romeo shook his head before turning his attention to Cami. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” was her shaky response.
She stood on the last row of seats. This allowed her to poke her head and shoulders out of the plane. Romeo and Doc each grabbed a linen-clad leg.
“On three,” Romeo called, and started the countdown.
Together, he and Doc tossed Cami through the opening in a flutter of perfume and cream fabric.
“Whoa. Shit!” Doc said as a larger than average wave lifted the aircraft high, its metal skin groaning with the motion.
“Hang on!” Romeo yelled to Cami, bracing himself against the rear bulkhead.
Doc managed to hook an arm around the headrest nearest him, but Mia tumbled over the last row of seats. Doc made a valiant grab for her, but missed, and she landed in Romeo’s outstretched arms.
He reeled her in and held her close, feeling her heart beating a rapid tattoo against his chest.
Once again, he was reminded of coming awake that morning. Of her spread atop him. And in that split second between sleep and wakefulness, he’d felt a sense of... He couldn’t put a name to it. It was like peace and longing and lust all balled into one. And when she’d rolled off him, he’d wanted so badly to pull her back. To bury his nose in her sweet-smelling hair.