Romeo wished he could take back asking Mia to call him by his given name.
He wasn’t sure why he’d done that. He hadn’t even realized he’d wanted to. But something about the moment had made him blurt out the request.
Maybe because they’d just survived a plane crash. Or maybe because she’d been so scared for him that it’d made him feel cherished and special in a way he never had before.
Regardless of why, he’d asked her to call him Spiro, and now she was all wigged out.
It was like when she first arrived on Wayfarer Island. She wasn’t just quiet. She was giving Silent Bob a run for the money in the mute department.
She’d listened while he explained how they were looking for a place in the center of the island—preferably a small depression—where they could put the life raft and then build a windbreak with palm leaf mats. She’d nodded once they found that place and he started pulling down palm fronds. And she’d watched his hands with interest while he showed her how to peel off the individual fronds, remove the middle stick, and then lay the remaining leaflets out flat before beginning to weave.
She’d even hummed her interest when he’d told her, “I learned to make these when I was on leave in Thailand. An old woman on a beach in Phuket taught me.”
But she hadn’t made another sound since. And now the silence had stretched so far between them, he couldn’t figure out how to bridge the gap.
Once again, the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him.
The first time he’d spent the night with her and awakened to her new-found tenderness toward him, he’d presumed—wrongly—that she thought he was open to more than friendship. When he’d made it clear he wasn’t, she’d been quick to inform him that one, even though everyone was entitled to their wrong assumptions, his wrong assumptions made him an ass. And two, just because she was sweet and caring toward him didn’t mean she expected romance in return.
Now here he’d asked her to call him Spiro, and damned if he didn’t get the impression she was the one worried he wanted more.
The real kicker? She wasn’t wrong.
He did want more.
He wanted to know her. Know all the reasons she broke out one of her rare smiles. Hear all her dry jokes. Learn what it would take to make her sigh with happiness. Understand all her flaws and hear all about her mistakes the same way he wanted to understand all her strengths and hear all about her victories.
He’d never experienced anything like it. This craving to know another human being on every level. And if he’d been someone else, anyone else, he’d have jumped at the opportunity for more.
He wasn’t someone else, though. He was him and—
He was stopped from further reflection when he glanced over and found her lips curved into a wistful smile.
He’d always thought of her as slightly ethereal. But the expression on her face now was so soft and gentle, he almost leaned forward to brush a finger over her cheek. Just to make sure she was real and not a figment of his imagination.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked, glad to have something to break the silence.
She didn’t lift her eyes from the work her hands were doing, which meant he had to lean forward to catch her quiet words.
“I don’t know exactly.” She shook her head. Then, she reconsidered. “No. That’s not true. I’m smiling because I’m happy to be alive. I’m happy you’re alive. I’m happy to have two working hands so I can help you build our shelter. It’s the little things at times like these, right?”
When she laughed softly, he swore he heard the sound with something other than his ears. Something that beat heavily inside his chest.
“We humans are miracles,” she added, glancing up at him.
Like always, the instant their eyes met, he started drowning. Sinking further and further into her amber-colored gaze until he was deeper than he’d been when he’d followed the Otter on her final journey.
In so deep he could barely think.
In so deep he definitely couldn’t breathe.
Which was why his voice came out sounding like he’d been snacking on the sand instead of sitting in it when he asked, “What do you mean?”
“I mean we walk around every day knowing everyone and everything we care about can be snatched away in the blink of an eye.” She snapped her fingers, and he was momentarily distracted by how delicate her hands were. So small and thin and feminine-looking.
Everything about her called to the man in him, the protector in him. Until he wanted to spend his days hulking over her, snapping and snarling at anyone who ventured too close. Keeping her safe from the big, bad world.
She didn’t need him to do that, though. The more he got to know her, the more he understood that she was living proof mighty things could come in small packages. That sometimes what seemed as breakable as glass could be as strong as a diamond.
“We walk around knowing our time is finite and that the people we love will one day cease to exist,” she continued. “And still we find ways to smile. To experience joy. I just...” She shook her head in wonder. “When I stop to think about it, it seems miraculous. Don’t you think?”
“I guess so.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to pull them back in. They sounded so lame compared to her heartfelt speech. His only excuse was that he couldn’t think around the longing that grew deep inside him. A longing he couldn’t pinpoint exactly.
All he knew was that it had her name on it.
And then, in the next instant, that longing morphed into thoughts about how Alex and Mason were on their way to Spain to find the cipher. Thoughts about how once he and his partners located the Santa Cristina’s treasure, Mia would move on.
Her leaving had always been a given. From the moment he’d met her, he’d known she wouldn’t be a permanent fixture in his life. But her heading out to her next job had been some nebulous thing way out in the future. Now it felt...imminent. Inevitable.
He wasn’t ready.
Wasn’t ready to let her go. Wasn’t ready to give up the way she made him feel. Wasn’t ready for the memory of her to be the brightest light in a life that would seem dull and dreary by comparison.
A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he knew he’d been quiet for too long when she cleared her throat. “I, um... I want to clear the air between us.”