LUKE INHALED THE FRESH ocean breeze, the familiarity of the sounds and smells orienting him as he rose from sleep to wakefulness. He blindly reached across the bed, searching for the warmth he was missing.
Cool sheets.
No Abigail.
He turned his head toward her pillow and listened.
Drip.
Drop.
Splatter.
She was there.
She wasn't gone.
He smiled and sat up, letting his legs fall over the edge. A quick glance at the clock told him it was early afternoon. Probably time to start moving, get some food in their bellies, and prepare to move out. Their overnight flight home would be rough, but after what they'd been through? Piece of cake.
Luke shuffled around the bed and leaned against the archway leading into the bathroom.
Fluffy white bubbles obscured all but Abigail's head. Her hair
