She didn’t consider herself an exhibitionist, but she wasn’t shy either. With a smile she said, “That ground is hard on the back. Last one in is on bottom the next time.” Then she turned and ran.
Trent caught her at the water’s edge and picked her up around the waist. Together they fell into the water.
She emerged shaking water from her hair and smiling. Trent held her and pulled her deeper. “That’s not fair. We hit the water at the same time.”
“Not exactly. My feet were in first.”
Monica splashed water in his face. “Brat.”
When they were waist deep, he turned her around to face him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and let her body float. The water caressed her skin as she let her arms fall to the side and she leaned back. Trent held her, his eyes gazed down at her naked frame. His thumbs found the swell of her br**sts and teased them.
“This is the life. I finally get why you like it here.”
“Warm Caribbean water, a beautiful woman.”
He spun her around to keep the sun from glaring in her eyes. “Do you bring women here often?”
“Would you believe me if I told you you’re the first?”
Oh, yeah… the ice was melting. “You don’t strike me as the kind who lies.”
“I never lie.”
“Not even little white lies? You know, the ones where you tell someone you’re fine when you’re really not?”
“Well…”
“Or the ones where you say you’ll call when you know you won’t?” She was fishing now, and cursing herself for doing it. Theirs was a temporary fling. They lived in different places, different lives.
Those warm eyes that melted when he held her hardened a little. “If I tell someone I’ll call, I call. I don’t like games.”
A wave caught them both, and washed over her head. Trent pulled her face from the water. Monica unlocked her legs from his waist and stood beside him. “I don’t care for games either,” she told him. “We both know what we’re doing here… now—”
“Is right here and right now,” he finished for her. It saddened her to think on that.
A shadow passed over his eyes before the salt from his lips met hers with a brief kiss. At least she knew where she stood. No use pretending they could be anything more than what they were right then.
“Well, California, how about I give you a second shot for that top position?” He set her from him with a smile that wasn’t quite as bright as she liked.
“California?”
“You keep calling me Barefoot. I have to have something.”
She liked it. “I’m listening.”
He gave a quick nod toward a rock in the center of the lagoon. “First one to the rock and back wins.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You said you didn’t like games.”
“Friendly competition, not games. I’ll even give you a head start.”
“How much of a head start?”
“I don’t know. Ten… nine… eight.”
Monica dove into the water and kicked her feet. She reached the rock first, but Trent was fast on her heels. It was useless. He was a stronger swimmer and a faster runner. When she reached the beach, he was there and didn’t even appear winded. “Not fair. Home court advantage.” She felt like a kid… a naked kid without a care in the world.
He reached for her and she dodged his hand. The chase was on. Sand kicked up from their feet as Monica managed to escape him with quick unexpected moves. He cornered her toward the cave. She ducked inside, laughing.
The chase was fun, but the catching was so much better. They circled the pool of water inside the cave. Monica considered a dash back outside but thought maybe staying inside would hold a better reward. If her time with Trent was limited, there wasn’t a need to swim it away.
She paused at the exit of the cave and sucked in a deep breath. “A gentleman wouldn’t make me take the bottom twice.”
Trent lifted both hands in the air. “I give up. You can have the top.”
She took a step toward him. “You’re so easy.”
They were both laughing when the world started to shake.
The jolt knocked them both to the ground.
It took a nanosecond for Trent to realize what was happening. This wasn’t a roll-over-and-go-back-to-sleep quake, this was a loud, plane-crashing-into-a-building quake. The sound inside the cave jolted him to his feet. Something was falling, somewhere. He caught sight of Monica who had been standing next to the entrance. She was now on the ground and rocks were falling.
She screamed. He found his feet and rushed to her side. The earth kept moving.
The light from the outside faded with a loud crash. All he could see was Monica being crushed by the falling rock.
When he reached her, he attempted to bring her to her feet to escape the falling rock. She grabbed his shoulders with terror in her eyes. Trent pulled her and she screamed.
Her right leg was pinned under a rock.
The earth grew quiet.
“It’s OK,” he told her. “I’m here.” Above her, the rock still crumbled. One small shake…
Trent peered through the now darkened cave, the only light came from the opening at the top, and he reached for the rock holding Monica in place. “I can’t move,” she cried.
He looked past the blood under the rock and grasped her leg with both hands. He pulled against it and more rock came down a few feet away.
Monica covered her face with her hands. Trent leaned over her to keep more rock from hitting her.
The dust settled and he pulled her hands away. “Listen. I’m going to dig. You’re going to have to push out when I lift the rock.” If he could lift the rock.
Her eyes were moist with unshed tears. “That was a big one, Trent. An aftershock…”
Was inevitable. He knew.
He dug around her leg like a madman. When he felt her leg shift in the sand, he wedged the rock to keep it from collapsing again.
“OK, I’m going to try the rock again. You ready?”
She nodded and rose up on her elbows and bent her good leg.
“One… two… three.” Trent heaved the rock. His back protested, his arms were on fire, and the rock wasn’t moving.
He kept trying, sweat poured off his brow.
Monica’s hand stopped him. “That’s not going to move. We need to dig.”
She sat up as best she could and helped him dig the sand away from her leg. He didn’t even want to think of the pain she must be in. There was blood dripping down her calf, he couldn’t see the rest of her foot under the rock.