Cami’s own stomach balled into a fist at the thought of food. Or rather, at the thought of no food. “No.” She grimaced. “Not so much as a minnow.”
“I’m suddenly understanding how the Donner Party felt,” Mia muttered.
Cami scooted a few inches away. “If talking about food has you turning all Hannibal Lecter, then by all means, let’s change the subject. Between me, Doc, or Romeo, no doubt I’m the tenderest and the tastiest.” She tapped her lips in thought. “What sort of chitchat are you up for? We could list the weirdest places we’ve ever done it. Or we could rate the worst dates we’ve ever been on. Or we could admit the three most embarrassing moments of our lives so far. Any of those topics strike your fancy?”
Carlotta had loved to play this game on dateless Friday nights while wearing comfy pajamas and stuffing their faces full of junk food and wine.
Mia slid her a sly glance. “How about we go back to you and Doc? You never did answer my question.”
“What question was that?” Cami tried acting nonchalant.
Doc was... Hmm. She wasn’t sure what he was. All she knew was that one minute she wanted to punch him in the nuts, and the next minute she wanted to pounce on him and kiss him all over his insanely appealing face.
“I guess it wasn’t so much a question as it was an observation,” Mia admitted. “You two can’t seem to make up your minds whether to like each other or loathe each other.”
“Why do those things have to be mutually exclusive?” Cami knew her smile was wry. “It’s true. He irks me, and it’s hard for me not to answer every question he asks with a middle finger when he starts in on the lawyer stuff. But he’s also smart-alecky and a little bit brooding. And I swear that combination is like honey to a bee for me. I keep coming back for—”
She stopped talking and frowned over at Mia. It was obvious by the marine archeologist’s posture and the direction of her gaze, she’d stopped listening. Cami quickly turned her attention to the vast, rolling ocean, but whatever had caught Mia’s attention alluded her own eyes.
“What do you see?” She felt the hairs on her arms lift with a sense of expectation.
Mia’s voice was even quieter than usual. Cami had to strain to hear her over Doc’s snores. “I...I’m not sure. I thought maybe...there for a second it looked like...a boat?”
When Mia pointed, Cami followed the direction of her finger. At first she saw nothing but blue on blue on blue. But then...
“Holy shit!” She was on her feet in an instant.
“Do you see it?” Mia stood beside her.
“I think so. I think I see...” She trailed off, because she couldn’t be certain her eyes weren’t deceiving her. Or that her brain wasn’t conjuring up a mirage of what she so desperately wanted to see.
She would swear she caught a glimpse of a white hull. But it was so far away, and it disappeared so quickly behind a wave that—
No! A flash, like sunlight glinting off glass, blazed across the distance and she was convinced. There was a boat out there!
We’re saved! she silently cheered. Aloud, she wheezed, “Flare gun!”
The sand did its best to slow her steps when she bolted toward the life raft. Mia wasn’t any quicker, falling into step behind her and only catching up once Cami skidded to a stop next to the rubber watercraft.
“Doc!” Cami yelled, grabbing his big, solid shoulder to give it a shake. He was using the flare gun case as a pillow. “Wake up!”
He didn’t flinch. There’s wasn’t even a lull in his snoring.
“Doc!” she yelled, louder this time. And when that didn’t work, she tried, “Dalton!”
“Mmm,” he muttered and smacked his lips.
“Screw this,” she grumbled. Time was of the essence. The boat was already so far out. And who was to say it wasn’t getting farther away with each passing second?
Reaching beneath Doc’s head, she grabbed the handle on the flare gun case and gave it a yank. Instead of pulling it out from under him, however, she only managed to jostle him enough so he rolled onto her arm. Given her precarious position, cantilevered over the side of the life raft, that was all it took to completely unbalance her.
A loud yelp shot out of her as she tumbled on top of him, bumping her forehead on his scruffy chin.
That was enough to wake him. He blinked open his eyes and frowned at her when she pushed up on one hand and used the other to rub her forehead. In a voice that was rough from sleep, he said, “You’re giving me whiplash, woman. One minute you’re telling me you don’t mix business with pleasure, and the next I wake up to you molesting my unconscious body. Make up your mind. Are we doing this or not?”
He slapped one of her body parts that no man on the face of the planet had ever slapped outside the bedroom...or without her throwing a drink in his face.
Since she didn’t have a drink, she simply sputtered and wished she’d said something articulate and cutting. But her brain had gone offline the moment his hand met her ass, because it repositioned her just enough so she felt the hard column of flesh that pressed into her lower belly.
And yes. She knew it didn’t mean anything. He was a man. He’d been asleep. Erections caused by slumber were a simple fact of biology.
Still...wowza.
In the next instant, her faculties returned—thank goodness. And with them came her acerbic tongue.
“Everyone is entitled to be a prick once in a while, but you are seriously abusing the privilege today.” She pushed away from his chest and the broken arm she knew she had to be crushing. Although why she should care after the way he was behaving was anyone’s guess. “And let me assure you, I was taught to think before I act. So if I smack the shit out of you for touching my ass without permission, understand I thought about it and came to the conclusion that it was the only appropriate choice left to me.”
He blinked and glanced to the side. When he saw his hand palming her butt, he seemed genuinely shocked.
Was it possible he’d still been half asleep when he grabbed her and mumbled that nonsense? He was definitely still half-baked. She could tell by the size of his pupils.
Good ol’ period pills. Works every time.
“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded, removing his hand like her butt cheek might light his fingers on fire.
“What’s going on is that you’re lying on the flare gun, and we need it because there’s a boat!”