Storms could be hard on the islands. Most people out here had generators and were prepared, but the one last night was rough. There were branches down all over the yard, and he cursed when he saw their boat was no longer tied to the dock. He cursed under his breath as he realized what had happened. In his haste to get Sylvie inside, he’d been careless with his knots, and it seemed to have floated off.

He’d told himself he would go back and retie the boat when the storm let up a bit, but he’d fallen into bed with her and forgotten all about it. Now they were going to pay the price, because he couldn’t get her off this island without a boat.

He followed the man—he was almost certain it was a man—off the porch and around the cabin. Now he had to hope this was some neighbor looking around the community. It happened a lot after storms. “Hey, wait up.”

He rounded the corner and was surprised to see the figure jogging away from him. At that moment, the hood of the jacket the man was wearing fell back and revealed the big headphones that covered his ears.

Damn it. He was going to have to actually put hands on the man to get him to realize someone was here and needed help. What was this guy thinking? Anyone who spent time on the bayou knew better than to wear headphones. Hearing was important out on the water.

Rene followed as the man started up the hill that would take him to the other side of the small island. The ground was a muddy mess, and he wasn’t wearing shoes because he hadn’t wanted to lose the guy. His left foot hit a rock and slid out from under him, pain flaring as he realized he was going down. His leg buckled under him and he hit the mud with a thud.

“Rene?” Sylvie rounded the corner. She’d thrown on a big robe and stood at the edge of the porch.

“Don’t come out here without shoes,” he shouted back. He’d learned that lesson. He had stepped on a rock, and while the skin wasn’t broken, it hurt.

“Are you all right?” She walked carefully toward him, and she was absolutely not wearing shoes.

“I’m fine. Go back to the porch. There’s rocks and stickers out here, and the mud is slippery.”

She stood over him and offered him a hand. She was a stubborn one. “Your knee is cut. What happened? I heard you shouting.”

“Someone was on the porch.” He heard a motor start up and knew he’d never make it to that boat in time.