The trip back to the house was silent, and when they got to the generator shed, she helped him unload the barrels and then they took the ATV back to it's shed and locked it up. As they walked back toward the house, Shawn reached out and took her hand, and she let him. They didn't discuss it.
"There must be a place for the caretakers around here somewhere," he said, looking down at her.
"Oh, yes! We should look for that."
"Tomorrow."
"OK."
They were back at the house and it was dark now. They were hungry but they were hot and dirty, she really wanted to clean up first, and said so.
"You use the shower in the bedroom, I'll use the one down here," Shawn said. "I'll meet you back in the kitchen."
Camila watched as he left the room. There was a strange energy between them, and she wasn't sure what it was but a sudden calmness came over her. Two weeks. She had two weeks, or less if he got his memory back, to convince him they were meant to be together. When he did remember, they could sort out that part of it, but if there was one thing this near-death experience and the second chance they'd been given had shown her it was that her mother was right. Shawn was her happy-ever-after and she needed to be a big girl and fight for the man she loved. She promised herself that when they left here, she would have done everything in her power to save her marriage.
***
Shawn showered and shaved and threw on a pair of shorts and went to find Camila in the kitchen. He carried his t-shirt with him, he was still too hot to put it on. She was standing at the window overlooking the pool, arms crossed as she stared out to where the moon had used silvery brushstrokes to paint a path across the ocean to the beach. She wore an oversized t-shirt that reached her knees, large and shapeless, and her hair was piled in a messy knot on her head. Something smelled good though, and he noticed a couple of pots bubbling on the stove. He looked closer, one held dried spaghetti that was almost done and the other a pasta sauce from a jar that was heating through. She had grated a pile of cheese and it waited like a little yellow mountain on the counter.
"That smells amazing," he said, and she turned around, her eyes clearing as she took in his appearance, as if coming out of a trance.
"Are you hungry?"
"Of course," he said with a grin. A stupid question if ever there was one.
She dished up the pasta and they sat at the kitchen table to eat. She seemed strangely nervous and he felt a sense of doom. Was she finally going to tell him why they broke up? What he had done? He didn't want to know. He needed to stop her before she said anything. He suddenly wasn't at all hungry and he pushed the food around on the plate.
"Is it not OK?" she frowned at him. She stood and walked over to counter, reaching up to the top cupboard to grab down the pepper grinder. The t-shirt rode up to show she wore some kind of lacy panties that left the cheeks of her ass completely bare. His mouth went dry and his recent concerns seem to grow wings and fly out the door as she leaned over him and ground the pepper onto his food, finishing by gently stroking the nape of his neck and dropping a soft kiss on his cheek. He couldn't help himself, he put his hand on her waist then slowly stroked downwards, over the t-shirt fabric where it now covered her bottom again. He held his breath, waiting for her to pull away, he wasn't sure what this strange feeling was but he wouldn't be surprised, however she just gave him a sassy look and returned to her seat. A moment later he felt her small bare foot rub against his. By this time, he was pretty sure there was no doom awaiting him, but something quite the opposite. He ate his past quickly, his heart thudding in anticipation. Camila finished first and took her plate to the sink then turned with a yawn.
"I'm exhausted, so I'm turning in," she said, and with that, she sashayed out the door, leaving him with his mouth agape. He sat for a moment in front of his almost empty plate and then he stood decisively, leaving the plate where it was, and followed her. He was pretty sure he knew her destination but when he walked into the empty bedroom, he felt his heart dive with disappointment. And then he saw her. She stood just outside the open doors of the bedroom, her arms above her head, her long hair flowing out behind her in the evening breeze, like Aphrodite arisen from the sea. She had ditched the t-shirt and now he saw the lacy scraps he had spied earlier were part of an extremely sexy lace bodysuit. She turned as she heard him enter and when their eyes met it was like an electric charge. Without dropping her gaze, he walked towards her, pulling off his t-shirt as he walked, leaving him in the soft jersey shorts and nothing else. She flicked a glance downward and her lips parted. The fabric didn't hide the reaction she was having on him.
He stood in front of her, barely a handspan apart.
"You look incredible," he whispered.
She stepped toward him and slid her arms around his neck. "Two weeks, it's not long."
He knew what she meant, he felt the looming deadline with a sense of panic, when it should be relief that they could go home.
"I don't want to waste a moment," she said, her voice breaking a little. He pulled her close, his hands on her waist.
"I don't want to either." He bent his head and kissed her, gently at first then with increasing passion, plunging his tongue into her mouth which she opened willingly. He moved his hands to hold her face then slid them into her hair, twisting the long fall of dark tresses in his fist and pulling her head back to bare her throat to his lips. She moaned as he kissed his way down to the space between her breasts. He felt a sense of desperation, but he dampened it down, choosing to take a more leisurely approach, yet there was still a tinge of urgency.
"What is this thing?" he murmured, sliding his fingers under the shoulder straps.
"I found it in a bag of things in the closet, it still had the tags on. I don't think it fit her."
"It fits you, perfectly," he breathed as he slid the lace to her waist. "You look incredible."
"Thank you," she spoke in barely a whisper, her breath catching has his hands explored the skin bared by as he slowly removed the lingerie.
By the time he led her to the bed, she was a mass of nerve-endings. The hours that followed were filled with giving each other pleasure, some sleeping, some murmuring words of love and when the sun came up they lay face to face, joined from their lips to their hips, moving in a dance so intimate that they both came simultaneously and afterwards he kissed the tears that slid down her cheeks. He might not be crying, but he felt the same as she did, such an intense and overwhelming love, and a fear for the inevitable end of this time together and the encroachment of the real world.
"I don't want to go home," she sobbed. "But I do. You know? I mean, I miss my family, my dogs, our home, my fans....but, this....it's so beautiful, and perfect....I don't want it to end."
He pushed damp strands of hair behind her ear. "Me either. I know exactly what you mean...I'm afraid when I find out what happened...when we have to go back...it's going to be different. We're going to be different."
She began to cry in earnest and he held her, feeling helpless because he didn't remember what she was crying about, but he knew it was going to change things, and he hoped he never remembered. He hoped the owners never came back.
***
There was a lot to keep them busy. They worked in the garden, clearing the jungle and using the gardening guide to prune and fertilise or whatever was required. They found the caretakers house on a little walk. It was literally just in a clearing above the adjacent beach, and it was nice. Two bedroom, modern, with it's own solar energy. They looked around but didn't turn anything on. Like the main house, everything was covered, but Camila peeked beneath, finding a photo frame. She was staring at it when Shawn found her.
"Is that them?" he asked, looking at the photograph of a young, tanned and very happy couple with their arms around each other, on the beach.
"I think so, but look at this," she said, passing him a handwritten list of some kind. "It's a list of observations, taking every fifteen minutes. The guy was sick, she was taking the obs and relaying the information to someone, probably via radio."
He read the list, just a lot of times and numbers and some scribbled words beside them. "This must be why they went back and the place was empty when we found it."
Camila nodded. "Maybe they're coming back, or the owners are bringing new caretakers, when they come back."
"Hey, I just remembered, the calendar in the office, that's where I have seen those coloured dots before, maybe it will make some sense now."
They closed up and headed back to the house. In the office, Shawn showed her the calendar. They had not been able to decipher the colour codes before, but now it seemed clear after seeing the one at the airstrip.
"So look," Camila said, pointing to a coral coloured spot. "That is the arrival day, the same as the other one. Here, the last time they came, they were here for a month."
"So the blue spots are for guests. Sometimes they come at the same time, and other times on their own."
"There must be a list somewhere of who comes," Camila said eagerly, and she opened the filing cabinet and began going through the files while Shawn looked around the desk.
"Here," Camila said triumphantly, holding up a blue folder. She opened it out on the desk and they looked at it together. As she predicted, it was a list of of guests. Their names, personal details and emergency contacts, and which cabin or guest room they stayed in. While Shawn read through it with interest, corresponding it with the blue spots, Camila returned to the filing cabinet and pulled out a second file. This one was in a green folder and she opened it, then looked at the green spots on the calendar. They appeared about every three months.
"This one," she said, pointing to a green dot. "It's when the supply ship arrives."
"So has it been here since the owners left?"
"No, because it says here that they only come when it is arranged that they do, and it wasn't because no-one was here. It's due back the day after they arrive back."
"Damn, could have done with some fresh food!" It was said lightheartedly because the food that grew in the garden and the pantry full of dried staples, bottles and cans, was doing them well at the moment.
Camila picked up a pen and crossed off the days they had been here. Shawn pointed to the empty days until the next coral coloured dot.
"Twelve days. Twelve days until they get here," he croaked. Twelve days to be together alone. Twelve days until the world rushed back in. "That's good right? We'll get to go home...."
***
A few days later, they were fishing in the lagoon. Shawn had found the fishing equipment and now they sat in one of the kayaks kept in the equipment shed near the beach, their lines in the water, enjoying the day out on the water more than the actual act of fishing. Camila grew tired of it first and she lay back so her head rested on Shawn's thigh, drifting off to sleep. He stroked her hair where it poked out from under her hat as he continued fishing, starting to nod off a little himself. A memory hit him so hard he almost fell out of the kayak.
He knew it wasn't a good idea when he first thought of it, but he justified it by telling himself he was doing it for her. Cez looked uncomfortable and when everything was signed and the others were animated and excited, he followed Shawn to where he stood on the big outside balcony overlooking the city. He loved New York, and the view here was spectacular.
"Shawn," he said softly as he walked out. Shawn turned around and gave a forced smile.
"So it's all done then, how about that?"
"I question the legality of it. Camila didn't sign."
"I'm her husband, they're happy with that."
"I don't think a lawyer would be."
Shawn frowned. "You think I did the wrong thing."
"I think you should have spoken to Camila first."
"She has enough on her plate right now, the movie coming out, her new music. I'll discuss this with her later."
"Later will be too late," Cez warned. "Although I hope not."
Shawn felt the ball of unease and guilt in his gut grow bigger and more solid. Cez's misgivings were not foreign to him, he'd been feeling the same way. It wasn't like him to ignore his gut, but he had, and now he realised he was stuck. It made him defensive and he snapped at Cez. "Well, it's not like it's any of your business, so you don't need to worry about it."
Cez's eyes widened in shock. He knew it was unlike Shawn to act like this and Shawn knew he blamed Yuri, the new guy Shawn had invited onto his team. Cez didn't like Yuri, but Shawn found him interesting and fun, with a fresh view on things, which he felt he needed. Yuri didn't like Cez either, it got a bit exhausting trying to keep them apart. Connor didn't like Yuri either, and Shawn didn't see much of him now, especially if Yuri was around. And Camila....she liked everyone, even those who didn't like her, but if there was one thing that concerned Shawn, it was Yuri's attitude towards his wife. Sure, Yuri seemed to like her and have her best interests at heart whenever he spoke of her, but there was an undercurrent of something he couldn't put his finger on.
"This isn't you Shawn," Cez said sadly. "This is Yuri."
"You always blame Yuri....!" Shawn said crossly. "And yes, it was his idea, but he was thinking of Camila, what would be best for her. If we waited to get back to LA to get her to sign it, it would be too late."
"That man couldn't care less about Camila! In fact, every decision he has helped you make lately has the potential to push the two of you further and further apart! He's trying to muscle in on Andrew, he's taking over control of parts of your life and business that he should have no say in. I'm warning you, mate, you need to do something about him or you will lose everyone, and probably everything you worked for. I can see it coming."
Shawn stared at Cez in dismay. He wanted to defend Yuri, but he had been feeling uneasy about the Bulgarian musician for some time, and suddenly he realised he may have just gone too far this time. He turned to Cez with his hands out in supplication.
"You're right, I don't know what to do! He's like a virus, infecting everything, and I just couldn't see it or how to get away from him."
"Go inside and tell those men that we need to take a bit more time..."
So Shawn did, but the Chinese businessmen were not impressed and they flapped the signed paper in his face and left, talking angrily amongst themselves. Their interpreter stayed behind. Her name was Helen.
"Hey, I'm sorry, they are going to hold you to that contract to the letter," she said. "They have a team of lawyers, you really have no option. I'm really sorry."
Helen left, running after the others and Shawn quickly rang Andrew. There had to be something he could do.
Shawn jumped as his line tugged and a few moments later the disturbing memory was gone and he was pulling a good sized fish into the boat. Camila had sat up and was whooping as they grinned at the fish flopping in the bottom of the kayak.
"Seafood dinner!" Shawn gave a water smile, and Camila's was replaced with a frown of concern.
"Hey, you ok?" she touched his arm gently. "Another memory?"
"Yeah," he nodded, removing the hook from the now dead fish and winding up his line. She looked scared, and he realised she was always waiting for him to remember that one thing. He was so close, but he didn't know why she was so scared. From what he could gather, it was all his fault anyway. He didn't say anything else, because he didn't want to be tempted to ask. He was so close to remembering, and he felt such dread at the thought. He was pretty sure he hadn't been unfaithful, but whatever it was he felt pretty guilty about it.
"Maybe we should talk about it," she said. He picked up the oars and began to paddle the kayak back to the beach.
"I don't think so," he mumbled in between strokes.
He didn't want to ruin their last days but he was starting to feel like it was hanging over them. She knew what it was and he didn't. It was interfering with their communication. It wasn't interfering with their physical relationship. After eating the fish for dinner and cleaning up, they walked down to the beach. He was pretty sure she was going to suggest she tell him the unremembered transgression once again, so before she could do it, he began to kiss her. There was a day bed down here, he had lugged it here days ago, and now he led her to it, pushing her down and climbing over her.
"I know what you're doing," she said with a little smile. "But that's ok, I understand." She kissed him back with a fervent desperation. They were both suddenly aware of the void between them, of the deadline ahead of them, and they began to tear off each other's clothes. Their coupling was wild and rough, fast and hard and loud. They lay panting side-by-side afterwards, staring up at the stars, holding hands tightly, wondering what was ahead.