Chapter Thirty-two
KING took steady breaths while the sea rocked them in that car like a maniac mother trying to shove pillows over their faces. Okay, he was losing it. He’d told Harmony not to be hysterical, but he was scared to death.
He calmed before he spoke. “Any other witchy ideas to get us out?”
“Sure, I’ll use the cell phone in my skin pocket. Oh no, I can’t. There’s no signal on this freaking island.” She shrieked fit to bust his eardrum. “Wait. I can call my sisters!”
“Don’t go bonkers on me. I’d rather die with a sane woman.”
“King, if we die,” she said, frighteningly sane all of a sudden, “let’s come back in our next life together, okay? We have unfinished business.”
She was losing it. “Okay,” he said. “It’s a date.” He kissed her brow. “I wouldn’t want to be in this spot with anyone else.”
“I feel the same way about you.”
This was more emotion than he liked. “About calling your sisters,” he said. “I don’t think it’ll work. The castle’s made of granite.”
“I already called them. We have a triplet-to-triplet telepathic communication system. They’re on their way.”
“Great guns, she’d already lost it.” She didn’t even realize that the sea was sucking them farther into its depths.
At the sound of voices, King looked up and hit his head on the dome.
Men shouted orders. Women screamed and wept.
“Told you. My panic woke Des before I called. Storm and Aiden heard the crash, but it took them a while to find the source. They went for the gardeners and were almost back when I connected with Des. My sisters are crying because they’re relieved we’re safe.”
“I won’t feel safe until we’re out of here.”
“Positive. Stay positive.”
“As positive as dying and reincarnating together? Right. Sorry. I’m the strong one. We’re safe.”
Harmony huffed. “Strong and humble. But, King, we’re about to get caught with our pants down, so that macho thing’s about to drown without us. It’s going down to the sea in ships . . . with your tight-ass rep.”
“Ah,” King said. “Something to live for.”
The sea carried them on a huge, rocking surge, and the men’s shouts became frantic.
“Are we floating?” Harmony asked.
“No,” King said, watching water bubble into the car along the breaks in the floor. “We’re sinking.”
“King? You should know that sex was never as good as it was with you.”
His panic receded. “You never do say the expected thing. It was the best sex I ever had, too, and I’ve never said those words before.”
“High praise.” She kissed him, and for his part, if he was going down with the parlor car, he wanted to go kissing Harmony.
The car rattled like when it crashed through the door, but it also heaved, groaned, and moved. Really moved. Not toward the sea, but away from it. “Thank God,” King said.
“We’re okay,” Harmony said. “They’re using pulleys and winches—is winch a word?—from the construction site to pull us from the water.”
“You got that from your sisters?”
“Des is trying to reassure me, keep me calm, but she’s giggling, so be ready for some teasing.”
He met her brow with his. “Great.”
Harmony started laughing, low at first, then with unbridled humor, until she could hardly breathe, and damned if it wasn’t contagious. A woman who could laugh at herself and make him laugh at himself . . . What kind of magick would she pull from her bag of tricks next?
While their rescuers pulled the parlor car wreck up the beach, the shed door slid off, and King felt as if his casket had been rescued from its vault. “Spotlights on the world,” he said. “I hope there’s a blanket over my ass.”
“Do you feel a breeze?”
“Nope, my butt’s still kissing the dome.”
“Hey, the storm’s over.”
“In more ways than one. When we get out of this, can you do something about Gussie? I don’t care how drastic. She’s gotta go.”
Harmony sighed. “That saves an argument. Glad I’m gonna live to appreciate it.”
“See any of our rescuers?”
Harmony stretched to peek beyond the side of his head. “Pretend . . . you’re a fish in an aquarium.”
He groaned. “Who’s peering in at us?”
“Everybody. The gardeners, Gilda and her husband. They’re waving, and they appear to be able to see us quite clearly.”
“How can you tell?”
“They’re all grinning. Did you ever see Gilda’s husband grin before?”
“Never.” King groaned again.
“Storm has her snout pressed to the glass like a Peeping Tom porker.”
“I heard that!”
“Then get us the hell out of here,” Harmony snapped.
“Ouch!” King felt a lessening of pressure and a fresh breeze. “I take it the dome’s coming off?”
“Inch by inch,” Harmony said. “Why? Did it hurt?”
“Only when it ripped my butt bandage off.”
Harmony snickered. “Thanks for climbing on top to protect me. Bet you never thought you’d get rescued sunny-side up.”
King gazed into her eyes. “I think I have the shape of you imprinted on my ha . . . happy man brain.” He’d nearly said heart. Must be a near-death thing. “Feels good to lift and turn my head,” he said. “Hey, I can flex my ass cheeks again . . . in public, of course, kind of like living my worst nightmare.”
We’re living the nightmare,” his curvaceous mattress said, “but in my version, we die. Suck it up, McBulls-eye, and thank the stars you’re here to be humiliated.”
The dome fell to the sand beside them. More spotlights went on.
Their rescuers applauded.
“Way to go!” Storm yelled. “You nearly fucked yourselves to death.”