by Lee,Molly E.
“True. Anything else you hoping for?”
I grabbed another shot and threw it back, noticing how the burn wasn’t as bad this many in. “I want to save the Falconer.”
“And you think by getting close to me you can make that happen?”
My cheeks flared with heat. “Maybe? Maybe I’m just intrigued by the whole mysterious Angel thing you’ve got going on.”
He scrunched up his face. “Angel?”
“Buffy?”
“Are you speaking English?”
I laughed. “Never mind.”
“That’s it. I draw the line on shots when you’re no longer coherent.” He cracked the first genuine smile I’d seen yet. Not a smirk or a laugh, but a full-on smile that made my stomach flip.
“I’m not drunk.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I fanned myself. “It’s abnormally hot out here tonight, isn’t it?”
“No, that would be the rum.”
I shook my head. “I think you’ll have to drive us back.” I dug in my bag for the keys to the jet ski and handed them over to him. His fingers lingered on mine during the pass, the rough skin eliciting those damned sparks again, only magnified because my guard—thanks to the rum—was completely down.
He pocketed them and paid for the check—despite my protests—and led the way back toward the docks. The damn wooden planked walkway was extra hard to navigate tonight, and I tilted to the right like my axis was off.
There is a thing as too much rum. But I’d gone all-in with the best intentions, and hey, he had opened up just a crack. Enough for me to want more.
I stumbled over my own flip-flops, but Connell’s reaction time was much faster than mine. He caught me before I ate the dock, pulling me against his hard chest in one swift motion. I steadied myself, letting my heavy forehead rest against him for the briefest of moments. A quick inhale and a mental kick in the ass, and I was ready to behave like the grown woman I was, not the drunk college kid I felt like.
I moved backward, glancing upward. “Sorry,” I said, totally embarrassed.
He kept his hands on my hips. “Don’t be.”
“Think you can manage to get us back to the ship?”
He smiled again, and damn if it didn’t light up my insides. “I’ll take care of you.” He swept an arm beneath my knees so quickly I couldn’t blink before he cradled me to his chest and continued walking down the dock.
“Oh, hell no. I’m not that drunk,” I said, kicking my feet.
“No, but you are that slow. I’d like to get back to my bed before the sun rises.” He chuckled.
I froze, the air going out of me like a popped balloon. Why the hell was I so sad about that? Was it him leaving? Had you intended on inviting him into your bed?
Yes, yes I had. Holy hell, the stark realization of the fact hit me like a cold bucket of ice water, the sensation clearing my foggy brain.
“If you’re going to be sick give me a warning,” he said, his eyes on my face.
I quickly forced a smile to my face. “I’m fine.”
He carried me to the end of the dock where we’d left the jet ski without even breaking a sweat. Once I got over how ridiculously damsled the situation was, it was incredibly nice.
He shifted his weight, releasing my legs. I clung to his neck as I found my footing, sliding down his hard body so slow I felt every inch of him. And damn he felt as good as he looked. I sucked in another long breath, taking in his sultry sea scent, and looked up at him with hooded eyes.
Some jagged strands of black hair hung in his eyes, and with the rum as my motivator, I pushed it back, my hand lingering on his cheek. “You could stay,” I said, but quickly added, “we have plenty of rooms on board.” You know better.
I saw the debate in his eyes, but the battle was long enough to flush my skin with embarrassment. The rejection was clear long before he opened his mouth, and I put a foot of space between us, my hand on my forehead. “You were right. I’ve had too much.”
Or maybe it was the combination of the rum and the insane connection I had to Connell, which had only amplified since we’d dove together. “Do you get that?” I asked, before realizing I hadn’t voiced my thought.
He tilted his head.
“When you dive with someone, as easily as we did today . . . do you ever feel like it’s more informative of compatibility than a month’s worth of conversations?”
“I do actually. It’s how I knew Ryan was a trustworthy guy. Just like Nemo.”
I nodded slowly.
He trailed his finger down my bare arm, sending warm chills across my skin. “Let’s get you home.”
I held onto him as he pushed the jet ski to full speed. His body felt so warm, my face pressed against his back, and I hovered in that shiny place between sleeping and awake. By the time he pulled up to the ship, I was thirty seconds away from falling completely under.
He followed me on deck, making sure I made it to my small dorm-like room. I plopped down on the bed to keep from falling over. The awkwardness of him hovering in the doorway, thinking who knew what after my shameless invitation on the docks, filled my stomach with tension.
“Is it all right if I take the jet ski back to the vessel? I need fresh clothes and—“
“Absolutely,” I cut him off. He didn’t need to explain. I shouldn’t have made a move on someone I had to work with so closely for two months. Stupid, stupid rum.
“All right. Get some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning.” He flicked the light off before shutting the door.
I glanced out my small window when I heard the roar of the jet ski’s engine, and watched as he took off in the direction of Slade’s vessel. That magnetic pull we’d talked about earlier? Yeah, that was present, and aching, and completely wrong. I couldn’t possibly want a man this much. Especially not one who held my future in his hands.
Fucking rum.
Connell
SLADE’S VESSEL WAS quiet by the time I made it on site after dropping Sadie off. The moon hung high, coating the wine-dark ocean in a silver glow. I sat on the vessel’s topmost exterior balcony for an hour, getting lost in the sound of the waves and my rum-colored thoughts. Something itched underneath my chest, an uncomfortable pulsing ache I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it was the fish tacos.
You know better.
I sighed and pushed off of the grated railing that left tiny, rectangle imprints on my legs as I’d let them hang over the side. My muscles twisted in protest, overworked from the dive. Sadie had skills I could barely keep up with. Not that I’d ever tell her that. Either way, my body was dying for the tiny twin bed allotted to me in the room I’d called home for five months.
Finally making it down the six flights of interior stairs, I turned left down the hallway that housed my room. I liked it down here because I could hear the waves crash against the thick pillars holding the vessel just above the ocean’s surface. It crashed against the structure in a constant, rhythmic beat that always opened up my lungs, and helped me sleep. Helped drown out the unwanted voices in my head. Conner’s wasn’t so bad anymore, but Mom’s? Well, in my head she always treated me accordingly—like the son who’d crushed her world in the span of one selfish decision.
“Where have you been?” Amber—a petite redhead with green eyes who always wore low-cut tank tops if she wasn’t suited up for work as a diver’s assistant—called from where she hovered outside my door. I stopped a few feet away from her because she was blocking my entry.
I shrugged.
We’d had a few good times between my sheets when I first was hired on, but it was just sex. A release. I’d told her that the second she’d come on to me my second day on the job. I didn’t do relationships, and as long as she was aware and still wanted to find satisfaction in an escape with a stranger, then I didn’t feel bad about it. Keeping tabs on me, though? That bordered on girlfriend material, and I couldn’t have the poor girl thinking that.
She pushed of
f my closed door and trailed a finger down my chest. “It’s been awhile,” she said, coming closer.
I recoiled internally.
What the fuck?
I gently nudged her backward. “Not tonight.”
Her shoulders dropped, and she stuck out her bottom lip in an overdramatic pout. “What’s the matter? You tired?”
What was wrong with me? We’d had a good time . . . several good times. It had been a of couple of months so I should be more than ready to go again. She knew my terms and didn’t care that I didn’t want to talk or cuddle afterward. She just wanted a good time. No strings.
Why aren’t you jumping to close this?
Amber pushed up on her tiptoes and bit my earlobe. “You know I don’t mind doing all the work if a dive wore you out,” she whispered.
I backed away from her again, my dick not even twitching. I was irritated, not with her advance but with my own reactions.
Sadie’s eyes flashed in my mind, followed by the image of her absolutely perfect body, and her even more stunning smile.
Oh no.
Amber huffed and took a step back. “Sleep it off, Connell. Maybe we can play tomorrow.” She turned on her heels and started down the hallway.
“Hey,” I said before I could think.
She quickly turned around, a wide grin cracking the bright pink lipstick slathered on her lips. “Yeah?”
“Not tomorrow, either.”
She tilted her head, returning to where I’d opened my bedroom door. “What?”
“We can’t . . . I can’t. . . .” Damn. I honestly didn’t know what to say to the girl. She’d been pleasant, easy, and didn’t push. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t deny a new truth rushing through my blood—I couldn’t sleep with her anymore.
“Why not?”
Good fucking question.
Sadie, licking her lips after devouring her meal and sharing with me her thoughts on the ocean, how it was home for her too, flashed in my head.
Shit.
I raked my fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry. It was fun, but it’s done. I told you from the beginning I can’t do relationships.” Why did this have to feel like a breakup? This is why I tried my best to stay away from repeats, but an eighteen-month job on a small-ass vessel didn’t really offer much in the way of variety.
She dragged the tip of her tongue across her teeth, grinning. “I know that. Neither do I. And if you think what we had was a relationship, then I almost feel sorry for you.”
I nodded. “Cool. Then you aren’t mad?”
She pursed her lips and sighed. “I’m a little pissed you just took away the one positive thing I had going for this gig, but no, you won’t find a decapitated fish in your sheets or anything.”
I shook my head. This was the most we’d spoken in three months. Normally we just . . . well, fucked.
“All right,” I said and turned into my room.
I waited until Amber was out of sight before locking the door. I tossed my shirt and shorts in the growing pile of sea-damp clothes in the corner and crash landed on my bed, my feet hanging off the end.
The familiar sound of the waves just outside the walls of my room eased the tension in my chest, like a pair of skilled fingers untying a handful of knots.
Sadie’s fingers.
I didn’t know a woman like her could exist. One who not only kept pace with me but surpassed me. One who shared the insane passion I had for the water. One who said what she wanted, when she wanted to.
It had only been two days. Two days. And she was already under my skin. No deeper. She made me want to slice wide open the still festering wounds I carried around like armor and let her lap up what was left of my soul.
Spouting poetry now? You are so fucked.
How the hell would I be able to give the go-ahead to destroy her site when this all came to an end?
Easy, she isn’t worth twelve million, is she?
The hesitance in my thought process was the final hit. The fact that I even questioned her happiness was worth more than the money at stake was enough to send a mental kick straight to my balls.
I rebuilt the walls the rum and our shared interests had made a dent in. I couldn’t let her in. I was too dark. I’d ruin her.
You’re already planning on ruining her. Might as well get a taste . . .
No. I stopped that shit in its tracks.
Sadie was off-limits. A paycheck.
I just had to convince myself of that every time I looked at her.
It was going to be a long-ass two months.
“You want a particular room opened first? Or just take them from one end to the other?” I asked Sadie, who swam only a foot ahead of me. I carted my tools with me on this dive—after a week of surface scans and exploration dives I was finally comfortable enough to get to work—and I was hooked up to her control ship through my umbilical. Ryan was topside, monitoring my gas levels and ready to give me amps when necessary.
“I honestly wouldn’t choose one over the other. Wherever is easiest for you to work is where I’d start.”
I smirked. “It’s all easy. This is your site.”
She stopped her motions just outside the entrance to the Falconer, the kid—Nemo—taking point behind her. I couldn’t take my eyes off her when she was on land but under the water? I was a fucking goner. She was graceful yet fierce. Determined and playful. She was every kind of awesome I never knew existed and just out of my reach.
“All right. Then we work from stern to bow. Sound good?”
“Copy that.” I decided to take the lead, penetrating the interior first. “Make sure to give the umbilical a wide berth,” I said, though I knew I didn’t have to. Sadie was experienced and wicked sharp, but I couldn’t take chances. Tangles were doable, snares even, but if it got severed? Well, my emergency tank only had a good fifteen minutes of oxygen in it, and at these depths with the umbilical in our way? That would barely get me to the surface, even if Sadie helped me.
“Of course,” she said, and I could almost hear the eye-roll in her tone. A smile broke my lips.
“How’s your head?” I asked before I could stop myself. We’d had dinner every night that week, and she continuously tried to uncover everything about me with shots. She’d learned that first night not to go over her limit, but it had to be taking its toll on her.
I’d lectured myself every morning on all the ways I could properly push Sadie away. Checking on her health wasn’t on that list.
“Fine, thanks,” she said.
“You fall or something, boss?” Nemo’s voice cut through the radio, and it was a jarring reminder our conversations weren’t private.
Sadie laughed, and that annoying itch in my chest pulsed again.
“Just a case of too much rum, Nemo. Again.”
“Ha!” Nemo chuckled. “So the big boss lady has a weakness. I always knew you weren’t perfect.”
Could’ve fooled me.
I pushed harder through the water. I was used to the pain, the guilt, and hell, even the regret . . . but this? I didn’t know what to call the feelings Sadie forced out of my body, and I seriously didn’t like my lack of control over them.
“You’re one to talk, three-beer baby,” Sadie snapped back, but her tone was light. “Yes, I’m hungover. No, it won’t affect this dive. Now, can you boys concentrate? Or do I have to send you to the surface and have Liz lecture you two on when and how to tease your boss?”
Nemo laughed but didn’t reply.
“You’re not my boss,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder. She smiled that megawatt smile that was borderline devious, and I quickly returned my focus to in front of me.
“I’d be a better one than Slade.”
“No doubt, but you couldn’t afford me.” The narrowness of the corridor we swam down didn’t bother me as much as the crumbly combination of sea life and oxidized metal caked onto the walls. Sadie’s story of her getting caught up in a silt-fall wasn’t one I’d forget,
and I didn’t want it to happen again. Of course, I could get her out, but the trauma of the reminder would be enough to rattle her. And I didn’t want that.
I quickly realized I didn’t want her to experience any unnecessary hardships.
Fucking ironic seeing that I was the man paid to crush her dreams.
“You wouldn’t give me a discounted rate?” she asked in an overly sweet tone.
I laughed. “Just because you’ve got beautiful brown eyes doesn’t mean I’ll do your laundry like Nemo does.”
“I don’t do her laundry!” Nemo shouted over the line.
Sadie laughed, the sound filled my mask and joined the melodic echo of our movements between the water. I didn’t think anything could sound better—except maybe her moaning my name while the waves crashed around us . . .
“You’re terrible,” she said, thankfully ending the thought.
Try as hard as I could, I couldn’t’ get a lock on my desire.
“This one good?” I asked, pointing toward the last door on the left.
“Looks as good as any,” she said, stopping behind me by waving her arms back and forth through the water.
“You should swim back a bit. Wouldn’t want you to get burned.” I set up in front of the still locked door, fishing through my tools for my stinger. She quickly swam upward, arching her head back until she did a backflip in the water, landing herself several yards away in the tiny hallway. The move was sexy as hell, if not a bit showy, and it made me contemplate if she was feeling the connection I kept denying, or if she was only trying to impress me.
Either way, it worked.
I refocused my attention on the door, happy to settle into more familiar territory. I radioed up to Ryan how many amps I needed before I flicked on my torch, the white-blue flame lighting up the near-dark interior of the old ship. I set the fire to the hinges of the locked steel door, the vibrations of the pressure sending tremors up my hand. I gripped the torch harder than normal, the stakes so much higher now that Sadie was an active part of the gig.
Funny, I never blinked twice at a job when I was alone. With Sadie in eyesight, I couldn’t help but question every single move I made with the open flame, the umbilical, hell, the entire state of the interior of her ship. If anything happened to her because of some tiny mistake I’d made?