Page 27 of On The Beach

Its chrome trim had seen better days, but Mick had clearly kept it running with the kind of care only a local would give—a couple of bungee cords held the storage compartment closed, and the seat was patched with electrical tape. The little scooter was comically small for Mick's tall frame, and I could already imagine us wobbling down the bumpy island paths with me clinging to him for dear life.

Mick patted the seat like it was a prized steed. "She's sturdy, doesn't mind a few bumps. Perfect for getting around Reef Harbor."

I didn't bother to hide my skepticism, eyeing the worn-out wheels. "I'm not suresturdyis the word I'd use and?—"

"Oh, come on, Lady Freeze, melt a little," Mick coaxed.

"Don't we need helmets?"

"Why?"

I sighed. "Mick, 'cause it's a safety thing."

Mick grinned. "This thing does thirty-five miles an hour downhill, so relax. Hop on, Babycakes."

Fucking hell!I was scared, yes, but I was also tempted, and today, as it had been since I came to the island, temptation continued its winning streak.

I clambered on the Vespa behind him.

"We gonna tour the island and have a little fun and—" he began.

"We need to find—" I cut him off.

"And," Mick stressed, interrupting me as I had him, "I gotta tell you, Dr. Augustus might not be hiding where you think he is."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, my chin tucked over his shoulder. "I have to try."

"Your career mean so much to you?"

"It's not just my career," I whispered. It was also the lives of two little children. Actually, their lives were more important than any paper I could ever publish.

The Vespa hummed to life, sounding like a sewing machine. We rolled down a narrow path, the salty breeze immediately whipping through my hair and filling my lungs with ocean-spiced air that I knew I'd miss when I got back to Cambridge. The road was lined with tropical plants bursting in bright reds, pinks, and oranges, and the deeper we went, the more the island opened up in front of me. We passed by old shacks with tin roofs painted in colors that had faded under the sun but still managed to look cheerful. Kids with bare feet and big grins ran by, waving at us, and Mick gave them a casual nod like he knew every single one of them. He probably did.

I held onto him as we hit a stretch that cut along a cliff edge. To my left, the ocean stretched out like an endless sheet of dark blue glass. It was breathtaking; waves crashed against the rocks below, scattering sea spray into the air.

Mick took a hand off the handlebars for a moment to point to a massive banyan tree draped with vines, where a couple of parrots squawked at us from above.

"Locals call that oneOld Man Green," he shouted over the wind. "Legend has it, he's been around for hundreds of years."

"Hands on the steering wheel," I screamed.

"This isn't a car, Babycakes, no steering wheel." He held both his hands up in the air. "Look, no hands."

"Famous last words," I muttered and pinched his waist.

He laughed and set his hands back where they belonged.

We passed tiny market stalls where women wearing wide-brimmed hats sold coconuts, carved trinkets, and reef shells. Then Mick turned us onto a side path, weaving through thick greenery until we emerged into a bustling area of shops and bars, the Tropicana Club ahead of us, which looked like something out of Las Vegas.

Its electric pink and green sign flickered over the door, lighting up the faces of people spilling out onto the street, laughing and swaying to the beat of island music. Mick slowed as we approached, and I could feel the bass thrumming underfoot, the notes of reggae mixing with laughter and chatter in the humid night air.

For a moment, I forgot my work, forgot Dr. Augustus, forgot everything except the sensation of being pressed against Mick, the two of us moving through the island's vibrant heart, its pulsing energy thrumming all around us.

"Captain Mick, how are you doin',man?" A large man serving drinks at the bar pulled Mick against the bar to give him a bro hug.

"Good. How's it hangin', Tano?"

"A little to the left," Tano replied, laughing loudly. He then eyed me. "Well, well, who's the pretty lady."

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