Second Honeymoon Page 0,14

asked.

“No.”

“What were you discussing?”

He shifted his feet. “Who exactly are you?” he asked.

“Will it change your answer if I tell you?”

Speedo eyed me for a moment and I eyed him straight back.

“Snorkeling,” he said, finally.

“Snorkeling?”

“Yes. They asked me about Dead Man’s Reef,” he said, pointing over my shoulder.

But the second I turned to look I knew I’d made a mistake.

Chapter 17

AS SUCKER PUNCHES go it was a pretty good one. Straight to my gut, hard and fast. Kind of like how I went down.

Breathe, O’Hara! Breathe!

Fat chance. I was on my knees, hunched over in a helpless ball, my arms and legs resting on the sand.

Meanwhile, Speedo looked like the start of a one-man triathlon, dashing across the beach and heading straight for the water. Except I knew he wasn’t about to start swimming. Shit!

I pushed myself up, took one look at him dragging his Jet Ski into the surf, and immediately started running…in the opposite direction.

The guy manning the water activities hut barely had time to blink.

“I’ll be back,” I said to him, swiping the set of keys off his counter. With any luck he’d simply wave and tell me, “Have fun!”

Yeah, right.

“Hey, man!” I heard over my shoulder as I sprinted back down the beach. Now we had it going on. I was chasing Speedo, and Water Activities Dude was chasing me. “Hey, hey, you! Stop right there!”

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my southern cavalry. Carter was up from his bar stool, blazing across the beach like General Sherman through Georgia. For an older man, he sure could run.

As I dragged one of the resort’s two WaveRunners into the water as fast as I could, I looked up to see Carter nearly tackle the activities guy. Jesus, what a sight. This beach had never seen such action.

While Carter was quickly trying to explain the situation, I was trying to give myself a quick refresher course on the finer points of riding a Jet Ski. It had easily been more than twenty years since I’d last been on one.

Just like riding a bike, right?

I turned the key, punched the Start button, and jammed the throttle. Then I held on for dear life. Speedo had a head start, but he hadn’t lost me yet.

“Go get ’em!” I heard Carter yell.

For the love of James Bond, how do I get myself in these situations?

Chapter 18

I WAS STRADDLING the seat, bouncing up and down with the waves, catching far more air than I cared to. Every time I jumped over a whitecap, the water would splash my face, the salt stinging my eyes. The engine had hit the redline. My hands and feet were shaking to the point of numbness from all the vibration.

Hey, who’s having fun yet? Definitely not me. Maybe Speedo was having a blast.

Speeding after the Frenchman, I wondered where he was leading me—or whether he had even thought that far ahead. About a hundred yards separated us, and I was desperately trying to close the gap.

It wasn’t happening.

If anything, I was losing ground. But as long as I could still see him, I had a shot. He couldn’t drive his vehicle forever; eventually he’d have to head to shore. I saw a footrace in my future.

Then I saw something else.

Off in the distance there was a series of rock formations jutting up from the water. They looked like little black chess pieces in a game that was about half over.

Speedo was heading right for them.

Before I knew it, he’d disappeared.

He was using his home field advantage, and suddenly I felt like I was being played. But there was no time to slow down and think things over.

I kept the throttle cranked and stayed on his tail, swerving left, right, then left again through the maze. I was drenched, exhausted, and coming way too close to these rocks. Jet Skis don’t come with air bags, do they?

Finally, I was out in the clear again. To my amazement, I’d even made up some ground.

Speedo was only about fifty yards ahead now, and looking nervously over his shoulder at me. For the first time, I actually took one hand off the handlebars.

And waved.

I was starting to get the hang of things, using the swells to propel me even faster. Keeping up? Hell, no, I was catching up!

Then Speedo made a sharp right.

He was aiming toward shore. I looked ahead and saw a stretch of beach in front of another resort. Which way would he run?

Soon I