“You really built this?” I asked.
He nodded.
“I can see why you kept it instead of selling it.” I admired the sleek lines of the craft and the way the varnished wood gleamed in the sunlight.
“It wasn’t good enough to sell,” he said.
I laughed. “That’s not it. You’re sentimental about it, so you kept it.” When he didn’t argue, I asked, “Was this the first one you built?”
He nodded shortly, climbing onto the deck and turning around to offer me a hand. I followed him, clutching his jumper tightly to my chest so that I didn’t drop it in the water.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the paper I’d given him earlier that day with the coordinates for the island. I found a seat in the cockpit on one of the wooden benches, and he set about preparing the boat to leave. From inside the cabin, he fetched two long cushions for the cockpit benches and handed one to me. I put it beneath my bum and resettled myself, then watched as he climbed back onto the deck.
“Can I help with the ropes or anything?” I asked.
“They’re called lines, and no. I’ve got it.”
He certainly did. He worked with such confident grace that it was clear he was just as comfortable running boats as he was building them.
“When did you learn to sail?”
He stilled briefly, his big hands holding one of the lines gently. “I don’t know.”
“Oh.” The word escaped me on a soft breath. “You mean, you just knew? From your past life, you think?”
He nodded. “As soon as I stepped on a boat, I knew what to do.”
“Wow. That must be…weird.” I’d wanted to say horrible, but he already knew it was horrible.
“Weird is one word for it.”
He turned to the outboard engine and started it. Within minutes, we were pulling away from the dock. He stood at the helm, so confident and handsome that I wanted to snap a photo. He just looked so natural behind the gleaming wooden steering wheel. But playing paparazzi would be too odd, so I resisted the urge.
Instead, I settled back onto the comfy cushion and watched the marina go by as he navigated expertly through the crowd of boats. Gulls circled in the sky above, calling out to each other as the breeze blew my hair back from my face.
Soon, we were at sea, with small waves splashing against the sides of the boat. It was cooler out here, and I pulled on the big jumper, luxuriating in the scent and softness. I caught him looking at me, but he glanced away as soon as I noticed him.
As the mainland shrank, I faced forward in hopes that I could see the island. There was nothing but open sea, however, and after nearly an hour, I turned back to him. “Are we close?”
“We are.” He frowned, his gaze scanning the horizon. “Did she mention if it was hidden? We should be seeing it by now.”
“No, but it makes sense that it would be. Otherwise, humans could know it was out here, right? You would already know, since you sail around here.”
“Most likely, yes. I know the coast around here pretty well.”
“Right, then I’m going to see what I can—“ The sight ahead cut off my words. The air shimmered, a vision so wondrous that I almost gasped. “Do you see that? It’s like a beautiful pearly haze.”
“No.” His frown deepened. “But I do feel an intense desire to turn back.”
“That means we’re close.”
“Are you sure? Because it could just mean there are rocks up ahead.”
“I’m sure.”
He leaned to the side and lifted up the top of the bench I wasn’t sitting on. It was a hatch, and inside, I spotted life jackets. He pulled one out and tossed it to me. “Put this on.”
“Why?” The sea was quite calm.
“In case you’re wrong and I’m right.”
“You think we’re going to sink?”
“No. But in case I’m wrong, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
I smiled, unable to stop the little surge of warmth. “That’s really sweet.”
“I’m not sweet.” He glared at me, sounding grumpier than I’d ever seen him.
“Mm-hmm. Sure.” I put the life jacket on, cinching it tightly to satisfy him. He nodded his approval. “Aren’t you going to put one on?”
“Hadn’t planned on it, no.”
“That’s all kinds of ridiculous. Do you really want to put me through the trauma of trying to keep your unconscious body afloat?”
He shot me a wry look. “I thought you didn’t believe there were rocks ahead.”
“Well, I don’t want to be wrong, now do I?” I pointed to the seat where the life jackets were stored. “Put one on.”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes, but he smiled and did as I asked.
I returned my attention to the pearly haze that filled the air ahead of us. The island was definitely there. I could feel it. My magic could feel it, like I was being drawn forward.
But that didn’t mean there were no dangers between us and the land. Instinct told me to dip my hand in the water, and it was so strong that I did as it commanded. Immediately, I could feel the presence of underground rocks, just as Rafe had feared. It was odd that Emma hadn’t warned me about them, but maybe she’d known I wouldn’t need the warning and that I’d follow my gut. I’d never had such a strong instinctual tug before. It was impossible to ignore.
“What are you doing?” Rafe asked.
I’d had to lean pretty far over to reach the water, and my bum was unceremoniously in the air. “I wanted to check for dangers in the water.”
“That’s something you can do?”
“Not normally, but this place is special.” I sank my hand a bit deeper into the cold sea. “You’re going to want to veer to the right a bit. I think there are some rocks up ahead.”
He turned the wheel, and the boat drifted a bit to the right. “Good?”
“Yes, that should be fine.” I guided him through the water for the next ten minutes until the haze parted to reveal a small, rocky island covered in trees that sat atop a high hill. I grinned. “We made it.”
He gestured to the small wooden dock that protruded off the island. “Is it a clear path to that dock?”
“It is. You can head directly toward it.” I pulled my hand out of the water and straightened, trying to loosen the crick in my back.
He navigated the rest of the way, slowing the boat as we neared the dock. When he was close enough, he turned off the engine and jumped ashore, stopping the boat before it could drift into the dock. Then he tied off the lines to the little metal bits that stuck off the dock— I had no idea what to call them—and it was all done so quickly and seamlessly that I couldn’t help but give a little clap.
He arched a brow. “Seriously?”
I shrugged. “What? You did a good job.”
“You’re just too much sometimes,” he said, but he was smiling as he said it.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I stood and took off the life jacket, then put it in the boat’s cabin.
He held out his hand to help me onto the dock, and I took it, unable to help the shiver that raced up my arm when my skin met his. I’d never felt such an electric connection with anyone before. His eyes flashed as they met mine, and I thought he might be feeling the same thing.