Brent: Military Heroes (The One I Want Series Book 2)

by Ellie Masters

  Chapter 11

  Brie

  After finishing the scan of the bottom, Brie returned the Pendragon to where the sonar detected the cannon. Donald set the anchors while Brent cleaned up from lunch. The men donned their dive gear and headed into the water, eyes bright and hopes high.

  She waited topside, minding the boat and watched the trail of their bubbles as the men searched. The weather remained calm and the water was mirror smooth with barely a ripple. Overhead, the bright sky rained only sunshine as a few puffy clouds drifted on the trade winds. It couldn’t be a more perfect day. She grabbed a book and waited to see what they found.

  When Brent and Donald surfaced, she rushed to the dive platform. “Did you find it?”

  Brent shook his head. “No. Just sand.”

  Donald swam to the boat and climbed out of the water. “Visibility is great, but no cannon.”

  “Are the coordinates off?” She nibbled at her lip. “I brought us right back where it said.”

  Brent scrambled on board. “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?” But it was as if he read her mind. The man seemed eerily synched with her thoughts.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. Even if you brought us to the exact spot, we could still be off by a hundred feet or more. It’s going to take time to search.”

  “I’m sorry.” She bit at her thumbnail. “Should I recheck our coordinates?”

  “We’ll find it.” Donald placed his gear on the deck and knelt to remove his tank. He spun the tank toward her. “Can you take this and bring me a fresh tank?”

  She grabbed the neck of his scuba tank and dragged it out of the way. Two fresh tanks had been prepped for the second dive and she brought those over.

  “He’s right. We’ll do another dive and if we don’t find it, we have the DPVs for the next one.” Brent unhooked his tank and Donald swapped out the old tank for one of the new ones she brought. Since he didn’t seem concerned, she allowed herself to relax.

  “Okay.” She felt a little better, but remained somewhat deflated they didn’t hit the wreck with the first dive.

  When the second dive had them coming up empty, Donald pulled out the DPVs, or dive scooters, that would extend their search underwater.

  She stood with Brent at the back while he placed the empty scuba tanks on the compressor to refill. He talked her through the procedure.

  “See, there’s nothing to it.” He unhooked the tank from the compressor and handed her the other empty. “Why don’t you try it?”

  “Let me do it myself and make sure I have all the steps down.”

  “Well, there are very few ways to screw it up.” He trailed his fingers down her arm, distracting her with his feather-light touch. “Just remember that if the engine is running while you refill the tanks, you can get engine exhaust into the mix. That will end a dive fast, and whoever breathes on that tank can get really sick.”

  “No kidding.” She fastened the valve and flipped the switch to the compressor. “Have you ever breathed off a bad tank before?”

  “No, but I’m pretty anal about refills.”

  “I have. I’ve never been so sick in my life.” Or scared. She didn’t dive for months afterward.

  “What happened?” He leaned forward, genuinely concerned, and reached for her hand. His strong, deft fingers rubbed comforting circles over the backs of her knuckles. Now that Donald knew about them, she didn’t have to worry and jerk away. Instead, she reveled in the physical relief his touch brought.

  “I made it to the bottom, then felt sick to my stomach, light-headed, and disorientated. I barely made it to the surface, but when I did, I was so sick I spewed chunks. Had the worst headache too.”

  “Did you figure out what happened?” His brows pinched together. “That’s pretty serious.”

  “We tracked it down to one of the guests. They were told not to run their jet skis behind the boat while the crew was refilling the tanks. One simple rule which those spoiled brats took as a suggestion. They were like that the whole week, didn’t listen to anything. The crewman who set the tanks had to leave while he grabbed something out of his cabin.” It took time to fill a scuba tank, which was why there were always spares.

  “And what happened?”

  “When he returned, there was no reason to think anything was wrong. The tanks were pressurized and he set them in the rack. What the kid had done was hook up the jet ski to the back of the boat and gunned the engines. He wanted to see if he could tow the boat. Mind you, it was anchored. No accounting for intelligence. There may have been alcohol in play as well. Needless to say, all that exhaust went straight into the tanks.”

  “Wow. I’m surprised the kid fessed up.”

  “He didn’t. That’s what pissed me off the most, but we had cameras. It took forever to figure it out. The crew had to bleed all the tanks, because they didn’t know if it was isolated to just the two that were on the whip at the time. So, I know a little about not running the engines while filling tanks.”

  “You were lucky.” He leaned in, closing the distance, and traced a circle on her shoulder. “You could’ve been killed.”

  “No kidding. I didn’t speak to that kid for the rest of the week. He lied about it when asked and was pissed anyone dared question him at all, but it was part of the safety investigation. He even threatened to have the whole service crew fired. Luckily, that didn’t happen.”

  “I’d say you were very lucky.”

  “I recovered quickly, but it scared me.” She turned her attention to the compressor. “What else do I need to check when I do this?”

  He explained about check valves and how not to overfill the tanks. She knew most of it, but listened attentively as he explained. She didn’t pull away when Donald joined them.

  “You ready?” Donald looked toward the horizon and held his hands over his eyes. “I figure we have about an hour and a half before the sun sets. Plenty of time for one last dive.”

  She had two more tanks to fill after the two she and Brent had just placed on the whip. The compressor was capable of filling only two tanks at a time, but she wanted to see if she could do it completely on her own.

  Heading aft, she joined them as they put on their gear and completed their buddy checks. Donald splashed into the water and then Brent handed down the heavy DPVs one at a time. He turned to her, dive fins in hand, and leaned in to give a kiss.

  “Wish us luck.” His eyes sparked in the late afternoon sun and brimmed with excitement.

  “Good luck!” Even though Donald watched, she wrapped her hands around Brent’s neck and lifted on tiptoe to give him a kiss. It was nothing like the heated kisses on the bridge, or even some of the stolen kisses they’d shared, but it felt as if her world came together in Brent’s arms.

  His warm lips brushed against hers, then pressed harder as he demanded more. Not one of those chaste close-mouthed kisses she thought he’d give in front of Donald, this was a full on, open-mouthed, blatantly sensual kiss. With one arm wrapped around her waist, he pulled her against him. She loved it, and loved the way her small frame fit against his like it was meant to be there.

  He played with her hair, twining his fingers tighter and tighter until he pulled at her scalp. Fiery and passionate, she wanted more, but he broke off the kiss with Donald’s catcalls from the water.

  “Get a room you two!” He laughed and turned around, giving them a modicum of privacy, but the moment was lost.

  Brent ended the kiss, leaving her weak in the knees. She couldn’t help but take shaky breaths and sway on the deck. He did that to her, putting her over the edge where all she wanted was to stare into his eyes and watch them fill with wonder and love.

  He did that now, and she didn’t mistake the emotion filling his eyes. Brent wanted more than a heated kiss. She wanted that too, but not with Donald anywhere near where he could hear, or make catcalls, or any other rude noises.

  Brent backed away until he stood at the edge of the dive platform. He thumped
his chest. “You’re in here. I can barely tell where I end and you begin.” A smile curved her lips as he fell backward into the water and sank with a splash.

  Donald watched her bring a hand to her lips. She traced where Brent’s lips had been. When she noticed Donald’s intense stare, she removed her hand and smoothed the fabric of her shirt.

  Brent popped back to the surface and took his scooter from Donald. He attached the scooter to his harness. “You ready?”

  Donald gave a nod.

  “Good luck.” She waved at them and crossed her fingers, hoping for good luck.

  The men gave the thumbs down signal to begin their dive and slowly sank below the surface.

  For the next hour, she was on her own. She laid out a towel and grabbed her book, soaking in the warm rays. She must have dozed off, because the clanging of gear startled her awake.

  She scrambled to her feet, dragging the towel off the deck and rushed to the back of the boat. Brent climbed the ladder to the dive platform and ripped off his mask.

  “Well?” She bounced on her toes, hoping for news.

  He grinned at her, his smile a mile wide, then reached into a pocket of his dive vest and pulled out a flat disc crusted with coralline algae.

  “What’s that?” She took the disc in her hand. Small and light, it looked like a coral encrusted rock, but then she saw a glint of gold where the coral had been scratched off. “Oh. My. God. Is this…”

  “One piece of gold.” He took off his gear and wrapped her in a wet hug, soaking her tee-shirt with his wetsuit. “And we found the cannon. Still need to make an ID on the ship, but we found her!” With the sun dipping toward the horizon, golden curtains of fire spread across the sky. In a few more minutes, gold would turn to crimson, then a deep purple would herald the coming of night.

  “You found it!” She jumped up and down. “You found it!”

  Chapter 12

  Brent

  “You two love birds going to jump up and down all day, or do you think you could help me get the scooters out of the water?” Donald grumped from the foot of the ladder and shaded his eyes from the setting sun.

  “Oh shit!” Brent released Brie and turned to help his friend. He lifted the heavy dive scooters out of the water and set them to the side while Donald climbed out.

  “Damn fine day.” Water poured off Donald and his gear as he slung his tank off his back.

  “Can you believe it?” He gave Donald a fist bump. A decade of research, years of begging and bribing his way into legitimate salvage permits and everything was coming together. He and Donald had discovered the find of the century.

  Donald wiped water from his face. “I can’t believe you thought to pick that up. It looked like any of the millions of other shells.”

  “It was too regular.”

  “Regular? It’s encrusted with coral and anything but regular.”

  “I don’t know.” He unzipped his wetsuit and peeled it off his arms. “It just looked right.”

  “Congratulations.” Brie gave a little clap. “This deserves a celebration.” She glanced at Donald. “You hiding any more of that champagne?”

  “Hun,” Donald said, “I have a whole case of it down below.” He unzipped and stripped out of his wetsuit. “But let me grab it. We have some celebrating to do tonight.”

  “Does that mean we get steaks again?” The way the sun hit her face took Brent’s breath away.

  He should be more excited about finding that gold coin, but he couldn’t help the way her smile lit his entire world on fire. She made this moment perfect just by being with him. A celebration with champagne sounded wonderful, but he’d rather take her down below where he could ravish her until her screams turned to breathy moans.

  Instead, he turned to Donald, and let out a sigh. “Can I help?”

  Donald pointed to the stack of gear. “You can sort all that shit. I’m fucking tired. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower first. Then I’ll prep the steaks and grab the champagne.” His attention shifted between Brent and Brie. “That gives the two of you a little time to celebrate without me hanging around.”

  “Donald,” Brie said, “this is your moment. You deserve one hell of a party. I’m just the hired help. How about I grab the champagne and fix the steaks? I’m sure you two have so much to plan.”

  “No!” Donald put up his hand. “Woman, I’ve tasted the disaster that is your cooking. No way in hell are you ruining my celebratory steak.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” Brie’s lips turned into a pout.

  Brent loved how it made her eminently more kissable. He choked back a cough when she turned to him for support.

  “Brent, tell him it wasn’t that bad.”

  “Luv, you’re the only person on the planet who can ruin Sloppy Joes. You literally pour it out of a can and heat it up.” She had made lunch for them the day before and both he and Donald choked down the burnt slop rather than hurt her feelings. It was nothing like the perfection of Donald’s culinary cuisine.

  She slapped him on the arm. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  Donald grabbed his throat and made a choking sound.

  “Oh, you’re horrible,” she said. “That is the last time I cook for the two of you.”

  “Oh, thank God!” Donald gasped. “We’re saved.”

  Brent gave a chuckle and dodged one of Brie’s smacks. “The truth hurts, luv.”

  She pointed a finger at both of them. “You two don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “If you mean to say that we’re missing the best steaks on the planet, I might listen, but I am begging you…” Donald bent on one knee. “Please don’t poison us. I am more than happy to cook tonight.”

  “I’m getting tired of always having to do the dishes.”

  “Cook’s prerogative,” Donald said.

  Brent let laughter burble through him. “I’ve got dish duty tonight, luv. How about you help me tear down the gear while Donald does his thing?”

  Donald gave a nod and headed below deck.

  Brent patted a spot beside him on the deck. “Sit with me.”

  She wiggled close and threw an arm over his shoulder. Leaning against him, she let out a breathy sigh. “I can’t believe you found it. What happens next?”

  “Well, it’s only one coin.” He turned the encrusted coin over in his hand. Completely covered in coralline algae, all signs of the maker’s marks were obscured. It would take a bit of work to clean it up.

  “But there are others, right?” She propped her chin on his shoulder and rubbed his back. He stretched as she hit all the right places. He’d known her for barely two days, yet it felt like she’d always belonged beside him. An easy companionship existed between them which went beyond lust and the sexual tension vibrating along his nerves each time she touched him.

  “There are others, but they’re probably spread all over the place. The hard work has only just begun.” She reached for the coin and he handed it over.

  “It’s amazing you spotted this. What happens next?”

  “Well, we found the cannon and the spar. We need to take a look at the cannon, probably bring it on board. Most cannons were stamped with the ship’s name. Once we have a positive identification on the ship we’ve officially established origin. Next is finding what she was carrying. That’s the hard part.”

  “I guess I don’t understand how that can be. You found a coin, surely everything is there.”

  “You’d think that, but coins are tricky. They were stored in wooden casks. Those have long since been broken apart. The coins are light enough that wave action rolls them around. After hundreds of years, all those coins get strewn all over the place. We likely won’t find them all.”

  She let out a defeated sigh. “Oh, I thought it would be easier. What do you think this is worth?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Fifty-thousand.”

  “For how many coins?”

  He pointed to the coin. “Just the one.”

 
She choked and dropped the coin as if it had bit her. “You’re kidding me. Fifty-thousand for one coin?”

  He picked up the coin and rubbed at the hard crusting of algae. “It’ll need to be cleaned up, but yeah.”

  “How do you know it’s worth that much?”

  “Haha, well, other than being my business to know, I’ll leave you with this as a funny, not so funny story. There was a coin from the 1719 treasure fleet which recently sold on Etsy for forty-nine-thousand. The buyer paid for insurance but wasn’t home when the package was delivered.”

  “Oh no.”

  “She went to the post office to pick up the package, signed for it, then opened the package and the box was empty.”

  “That’s horrible. At least it was insured.”

  “That’s the sad part. Evidently, it’s the recipient’s responsibility to ensure the package isn’t tampered with before opening it. If you think it’s been tampered with, you don’t sign for delivery, but because she signed and opened the box, which had been tampered with, it voided the insurance. Someone got very lucky that day stealing her coin, and she lost her entire investment. People get crazy about treasure.”

  “I feel sorry for that lady, but I guess I don’t understand how you don’t have a boat full of armed guards. I’d be paranoid.”

  “It’s a story of caution, that’s for certain. As for Donald and I, the fewer that know about what we find the better. It’s counterintuitive, but we’re safer with no one knowing. That’s why you signed the NDA. Once we have something worthwhile on board, we’ll call in the Coast Guard to help secure what we’ve found. The salvage permit is very specific on what happens next.”

  “I guess it would be. What does happen?”

  “The find will be secured by the United States government and the Spanish government will be notified. The entire lot will be evaluated by two independent sources. Once the total value is determined, we’ll be compensated. We have a twenty percent claim to the find, which Donald and I are splitting down the middle. There are also provisions in the salvage which allows each of us to retain a few of the relics and a limited number of the coins.”