Page 52 of Beached Wedding

She smelled like all those delicious things I’d been trying to ignore. Her shoulders twitched and her entire back looked...kissable. My mouth watered and my scalp prickled.

“That’s it,” I said, fishing the tiny piece of plastic from the fabric and setting everything in her palm.

“Thanks.” She ducked her head, but I caught the flush on her cheeks as she went back to the bathroom.

Not a date, mate.

But when she came back and said, “Now?”

“Perfect,” I declared. And I meant it.

ASHLEY

Since Fox wasn’t drinking and it was such a nice evening, he drove us to the marina in the convertible rather than us catching the shuttle.

The ticket claimed, ‘There will be no snorkeling from the sunset cruise,’ but it was the same catamaran that was used for day trips to the reef. It was about seventy feet long with two sets of stairs over each of the pontoons down to the diving platform in the stern. A polished, vintage wooden surfboard was mounted in the space between the stairwells, painted with the slogan, ‘Sorry, I had a board meeting.’

The catamaran was nice, though. Sleek and white with a dolphin theme throughout. There was a settee and dining area beneath slanted windows inside, but everyone sprinkled themselves outside. Some chose the small foredeck while others chose the U-shaped bench seat on the aft deck.

About thirty guests were aboard with us ranging in age from an elderly couple to a family with school-aged kids. The captain introduced himself and his first mate, Tala, a burly man who served us a round of drinks as the cat made its way out of the harbor.

Once the rigging went up, the temperature cooled off to a pleasant breeze.

“I don’t know what I was picturing, but it wasn’t this,” Fox said about an hour in.

We’d just finished our appetizer of premade sushi rolls and were enjoying the view of the rocky shore from the starboard rail—a sailing term I only knew from one of those memory devices that stuck purely because it made little sense. ‘Port’ and ‘left’ both had four letters. ‘Starboard’ had an ‘r’ in it like ‘right.’ ‘Port’ also had an ‘r,’ obviously, but it still worked. I was standing on the righthand side of the cat, therefore I was on the starboard side.

“I thought there’d be a bubble machine at least,” I said. “Maybe a dance floor so we could waltz to the top twenty ukulele hits.”

“Or learn hula. When am I going to cross that off my bucket list?” Fox asked.

“I think this is as much of the clichéd Hawaiian experience as you’re likely to get.” I offered him the triangle of pineapple garnish from my drink.

“Thanks.” He took it, started to eat it in one bite, then said, “Fuck!” He spat it into the water and yelled, “Man overboard!” at the top of his lungs.

“What?” I followed his pointed arm.

Against the shore, I thought I glimpsed a flash of red, but the sun and the swells hid it again before I could be sure.

While people gasped and crowded up to us, Fox grabbed my arm hard and pointed it alongside his own. “Do you see the red? That’s a shirt. You see it?”

I nodded jerkily. “I do. Yes.”

A swell receded and I saw a man clinging to a jagged rock. He had the broken half of surfboard in his hand. As a wave crashedinto him, the surfboard popped up and disappeared, leaving the man clinging to the rock with both hands.

“Keep pointing. Do not look away,” Fox ordered, still gripping my arm so hard he might leave bruises. “The cat won’t be able to get close enough. Keep pointing.” In my periphery, I was aware of him ripping open his shirt.

“What are you doing?” I cried, arm already aching, but I kept watch on that poor swimmer struggling to keep his head above water, fighting against getting dashed to pieces. “You can’t go in there!”

“I’ll take a board.”

He slipped away and other guests took his place at the rail. I heard someone shout, “Use the life ring!”

“We’re all accounted for,” the first-mate said breathlessly.

“There.” I kept pointing with both fingers before I dropped my tired arm. “A surfer. In trouble.”Where was Fox? I could hear him swearing near the stern.

Someone fired a bright orange life ring into the water. It trailed a string of rope, but it wasn’t nearly far enough. What the hell wasthatsupposed to do?

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