Page 45 of Letting it Ride

Thanks,

Karen Morgan

To:[email protected]

From:[email protected]

Subject:Re: Favor

Hey Addie,

Can you watch the twins Sunday? I want to take Josie out for her birthday, somewhere where we can go without highchairs and baby food. Judy is busy doing something with Julio. Please, please? We’re staying at Maddox and Holly’s house (I think Josie mentioned we’re house-sitting/dog-sitting. The dog might need therapy after a week with the twins). Feel free to bring a friend along; they’re a handful. Would love you forever.

Chris

My jaw is still hanging open. We missed the ship. It’s somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, far away from us. With my clothes and my makeup and my hair products on it, not to mention my underwear.

Now what?

I’m starting to hyperventilate when strong hands grip my shoulders. “Addie. Breathe.”

I do, and I lift my gaze to see Cam staring intently at my face. “What do we do?” I stammer, barely able to string together anything more coherent than that.

He doesn’t move his hands. It feels comforting, like he’s this strong presence I can lean on. I’m freaking out about being stranded on this island, but with Cam here, I think it might be okay.

Maybe. But I really need a hairdryer.

“Look at me,” he commands.

I focus on his eyes. The blue looks almost green in this light, with little flecks of gold that catch the sun. My breathing steadies as I keep my gaze there.

“Good. Now, we’re going to find somewhere to stay for the night. Then we’ll figure out a flight home. I can get in touch with the people from the cruise, and maybe they can ship our things back.” He lets my shoulder go and pushes a hand through his hair. “You brought your passport when we left the ship, right?”

I did. It’s tucked into my wallet, just like the guidebook recommended. My muscles relax the smallest bit. At least we’re not trapped on the island. I nod, and Cam mirrors my movement.

“Good. I have mine, too. We’ll need them to fly home from here.”

I twirl my finger in my hair, taking adeep breath. It’s not the same to do it with my right hand, but my left arm hurts when I lift it too much.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “This is all my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t gotten hurt, we wouldn’t have had to go to the hospital, and I wouldn’t have needed stitches and we wouldn’t have had to wait for the doctor and everything, and we wouldn’t have missed the—”

I’m cut off as my words are suddenly muffled by a large chest. Cam pulls me close, avoiding putting pressure on my injured arm, and holds me tight.

“Shh. It’s okay. None of this is your fault. And it’s okay. This just means we have extra time in Nassau.” He murmurs the words into my hair, his voice vibrating through me.

I let myself relax against him. The steadylub-dubof his heart is soothing, consistent. I use it to guide my breathing.In, two, three, out, two, three.

Cam doesn’t move for several minutes. I’m vaguely aware that we’re standing on a public street in the middle of Nassau, with me clinging to him for dear life, but my world has been boiled down to just the two of us.

“Are you ready for me to let go?” Cam says eventually.

I nod, and his grip loosens, but he keeps one arm around me as he turns us the opposite direction fromwhere I was headed. “Let’s head this direction. We should be able to find a hotel around here.”

Spring break in the Bahamas is not a good time to walk into a hotel and ask for a room. We try two different hotels before finally finding one with vacancy, and it’s a fancy one.

I wince as we enter the lobby. I’m not sure I can afford this. There’s a bubbling fountain at the center of a massive lobby, and the paintings on the walls look like they cost more than my monthly salary. Yearly, maybe. I cross my fingers that they won’t have any rooms.

“We have the Presidential Suite available, or we have a standard room with two queen beds or one king,” the woman at the desk announces, looking between Cam and me.

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