by Robin Gianna
“They announced it on the boat. At the galley, wherever that is. Tonight at seven. Games and a band and stuff. Sounds fun.”
“I’ll stop by to meet some of the new crew. It’ll be a good opportunity to find new divers to be part of my trial.” And an opportunity to see Zeke Edwards’s handsome face again. There might not be any point in her wanting to, but she did, anyway. Even if it was just from across the room.
* * *
It seemed impossible that the somewhat sterile-looking galley had been transformed into something resembling a cross between a disco and a casino. Colored lights moved across a dance floor, and country music blasted from huge speakers flanking the band. Jordan scanned the room for Zeke and, when she didn’t see him, scolded herself for the disappointment she felt.
This party was a chance to make new friends, not moon over Zeke when they’d both agreed to cool the heat and stop with the kisses. She forced herself to look at the other tables for people to sit with, and saw a smiling Megan surrounded by young men. The male to female ratio at Fletcher Station was heavily skewed, and a pretty young woman was guaranteed to get a lot of attention.
Jordan smiled, glad the nurse was obviously getting along just fine. She wandered to a long table covered with finger foods, put some on a plate and settled into a chair at a small round table. She watched people laughing and dancing and decided that, when she was done eating, she’d get out of her work rut and get up there, too. Not wanting an affair with someone down here didn’t mean she couldn’t have other kinds of fun, right?
A guy asked if she wanted to dance. When she turned to answer, her heart jolted as she saw a tall, eye-catching man walk in the door. He was smiling and joking with Bob Shamansky and several other men, and suddenly she found it hard to swallow her food as her breath caught in her throat.
Really, Jordan? Back to this?
But scolding herself didn’t stop her heart from beating harder and her stomach from getting that silly fluttery feeling. She said something to answer the man about dancing but had no clue how she’d responded, her focus entirely on Zeke.
So much for getting over her unwitting fascination with the man.
As though he knew exactly where she was, his head turned and their eyes met. The inexplicable electricity between them seemed to spark all the way across the room, raising the hair on her arms and leaving her breathless.
He moved toward her with a slow, steady gait, and her heart seemed to beat harder with every step. They just looked at one another, and it felt strange and thrilling and Jordan had no idea what to do about this thing between them that they’d agreed they didn’t want, except to ask him to sit with her and maybe she’d figure it out.
“Would you—”
“Is this seat taken?”
A sexy smile slowly spread across his face and she laughed a little nervously. “No. Not taken. Would you like to sit down?”
“Thank you.” He lowered his long body into the chair and scooted it right next to hers. “It’s a little loud in here. But the music is good, don’t you think?”
“I’m not normally a country music fan, but I do like this band. Especially the lyrics.”
“The one about crying in your beer? Or the guy who chooses fishing over his girlfriend?”
“Hard to pick a favorite. Is there one about a scuba diver who chooses zooplankton over a woman? Maybe you should write that one.”
She’d meant it as a joke to cover her nervousness, but the eyes looking into hers weren’t laughing. “Believe me, if I was a different kind of man, I’d want both. The zooplankton, and a beautiful woman who liked to dive for it with me.”
She could feel her pulse fluttering in her throat. The man staring at her with what looked like longing in his gaze didn’t seem to be the same man she’d shared a tent with. The man who’d agreed that anything between them was a bad idea. This man seemed to be eating her up whole with his eyes, and she found herself leaning close, all words drying up in her throat.
His big hand curled around her arm, slid down to grasp hers. “Want to dance?”
CHAPTER NINE
NOT SURE WHAT would happen if she tried to speak again, Jordan simply nodded, and they moved to the dance floor. He wrapped one arm around her waist and tucked her close against him, breasts to chest, their gazes fused, and her hand snaked up to the back of his neck before she’d even realized it. The music seemed to beat a primal rhythm through her body and the connection between them felt so intense it was like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life.
Neither spoke, and it almost felt like a dream. A different kind of dream than being underwater with him, but a fantasy nonetheless. Colored lights skimmed across his face, illuminating the dips and planes, his sensual lips, his dark eyes, and as they moved slowly together, his cheek pressed to her temple and it felt almost as though they were one, completely alone among all the other dancers in the room.
When the music stopped, it felt like they parted in slow motion, and she swayed forward, feeling bereft as they just looked at one another.
“You want a drink?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I... Yes, please. A glass of wine.”
He nodded and went to the bar that had been set up for the night. The line was fairly long, and Jordan figured she should sit down again, especially since her knees felt weak and wobbly. The band took a break, and someone turned on the television that was attached high on one of the galley’s walls, which she now knew meant the satellite was working and they’d grab some news from the world outside Antarctica while they could.
Only half listening to the TV announcer, she tried to concentrate on the screen instead of a certain überhandsome marine biologist and her reaction to him and what, if anything, she was prepared to do about it. Maybe ruling out a fling with him had been an all-wrong decision, except he’d agreed it was wrong, hadn’t he?
Except the man who’d held her in his arms tonight didn’t seem to feel that way anymore, which was beyond confusing.
Deep in thought, she stared up at the television. Then the disturbing images caught her attention for real.
“Devastating flooding and wind speeds up to one hundred fifty miles an hour from the category five hurricane has destroyed countless homes in North and South Carolina, including many whose occupants had chosen not to evacuate. Uprooted trees and floodwaters have destroyed cars, bridges and roads, with some people taking refuge on their roofs. Helicopter crews have had to temporarily halt the rescue of survivors until the wind speeds have died down.”
The images were horrible—homes blown away, cars floating down streets, boats smashed and awash on beaches and at marinas. She turned to look at Zeke, not even knowing why that was her first reaction to the terrible news. Maybe to see if he was watching the devastation. As a climatologist, hurricanes had to be part of his specialty, she knew, so he’d definitely want to know more about it.
Except his expression wasn’t one of professional interest. He was standing now, staring at the screen, his hands fisted on a table. Maybe the lighting was creating an illusion, but it seemed his skin had turned a little gray, his eyes shadowed. His lips were pressed tightly together. He stood motionless as Bob Shamansky came to stand next to him, putting his hand on Zeke’s shoulder and looking concerned as he spoke.
Zeke responded with a jerky nod, then, in a sudden movement, left the table to stride out the door with Bob watching him go.
Shocked that he’d left without a word to her, Jordan found herself walking over to Bob. She needed to know why Zeke had looked so upset, then had abruptly left without getting their drinks. Maybe he needed to record data about the storm for his work, but somehow she knew it was more than that.
“Bob. Is something wrong with Zeke? He seemed...upset.”
Bob turned to her, his expression grim. “I’m not sure. But I’m guessing this kind of thing might bring
back bad memories.”
“Memories of what?”
“I know he grew up in New Orleans, and was visiting there when Hurricane Katrina hit. He’s never said much, so I don’t know how he might have been personally affected. Maybe he doesn’t like to talk about it because the city was such a wreck afterward, with almost everyone displaced. Couldn’t have felt good to have the place you grew up in destroyed like that.”
So, hurricanes were personal to him, not just part of what he did for a living, wanting to slow the impact of climate change. Warmer ocean waters meant stronger hurricanes and more devastation. More lives lost. Had Katrina been part of the reason he’d gone into marine biology and climatology?
When she’d shared her story in the tent, he’d talked about roots being important. Perhaps having his uprooted from that storm was a memory he didn’t like to be reminded of.
Should she reach out to him, if he was upset? Be there for him, the way he’d been there for her when she’d hit her head? When she’d needed his help diving, and going into the field to see Jim Reynolds?
Maybe he wouldn’t welcome her if she went to talk to him. Maybe he just wanted to be alone. In fact, he probably did, or he would have come back to tell her he had to leave, right?
She pictured the way his face had looked just now and decided that, no matter what, she wanted to be there for him, as his friend, if nothing else. Inhaling a deep breath, she left the party.
She kept going down the hallway, realizing she had no idea where to find him. The first places to look would be the marine biology lab, his office and the aquarium.
But he wasn’t in any of those places. She asked the few people she ran into if they’d seen him, or knew where he was, but got shrugs and shaking heads in response.
Maybe he’d gone to his cabin, wanting to be alone. And if he did, would it be pushy of her to go there?
She didn’t know. God, she just didn’t know. But what kind of friend wouldn’t check on him, and find out if he was okay? A bad friend, that’s what. And she cared about him, whatever the status of their relationship. So she was going to knock on his door, and if he told her to go away, she would.
That decision had her straightening her shoulders and moving forward. Problem was, she had another hurdle to jump. She knew he lived in Pod B, but had no idea which cabin was his. It took her ten minutes to find a roster listing names and numbers, and every minute of it had her feeling more anxious, though she reminded herself she might be completely overreacting. There had been quite a few bad hurricanes since Katrina, hadn’t there? So probably she was imagining that the look she’d seen on his face was one of anguish.
Finally armed with his cabin number, she stood in front of it with her heart beating in her throat. She drew a fortifying breath before she knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked again. Chewed on her lip. Wondered where in the world he could be, and if maybe not finding him was a sign that her mission was a little absurd. Just as she was about to turn away, the door opened.
She looked up at him, his face now wiped clean of all the emotion she thought she’d seen there earlier, and the different emotion that had been there when they’d danced. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and suddenly she had no idea what to say.
“Jordan. Damn, I’m sorry. I...forgot about your drink. I remembered I had some urgent work to do, but I should have said goodbye.”
“That’s okay, I just...” She swallowed and forged on, even though this now felt like a really misguided idea. “Can I come in?”
He stared down at her for a long moment before he silently opened the door wide. She glanced around the room, briefly sidetracked from her worries as she saw the beautiful photography on the walls. Pictures of colorful starfish and urchins like those she’d seen with him when they’d been underwater together. Photos of unusual fish, and all kinds of coral, and a lot of other things she couldn’t name.
“Did you take these pictures?”
“For my work.” He nodded. “Photographic samples to supplement the physical ones is part of the research. Important to include in the reports when I apply for a new grant. Which is what I’m working on now. Got to get it done and turned in next week.”
“My mother would be impressed. Yours are...beautiful.”
Her gaze moved to a small table identical to the one in her cabin. For the first time, she saw that his laptop was open, with some kind of spreadsheet on the screen, and various papers were stacked on either side. Warmth filled her cheeks as she realized he was simply working, not moping or upset, and she had made a fool of herself coming there. Except she deserved to know why one minute he’d been holding her close, and the next he’d practically run from the room, didn’t she?
No. He didn’t want a relationship with her, and her stupid mooning over him probably had her reading things into their dance together that hadn’t been there at all.
“I’m...so sorry I interrupted you. I’ll leave you to it.”
She turned to go, beyond anxious to get out of there before he found out why she’d chased after him, but his fingers wrapped around her arm and stopped her.
“Tell me why you’re here,” he asked quietly. “Is it because I left you? I’m sorry. Sometimes work makes me do strange things, but I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.”
Maybe he had hurt her feelings, but that wasn’t why she was there. She stared up into his brown eyes, and couldn’t read them. “No. I was just being silly.”
“Silly how?”
Lord, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. She wasn’t about to tell him how mesmerized and confused she’d felt during their dance. But probably she should confess that she’d thought, looking at him as he saw the hurricane footage, that he was upset. That she’d been concerned about him. Maybe she had to embarrass herself that way because, otherwise, he’d think she’d decided to chase after him after one simple dance, which would be even more embarrassing.
“I was horrified by the hurricane footage. I looked at you to see if you were watching, and I thought maybe you seemed upset. And then you left. So I asked Bob, and he told me...” She stopped. Thinking about it now, it seemed ridiculous that she’d have been worried just because Zeke had been in a bad hurricane once in his life.
“Told you what?”
She drew a deep breath, and realized there was no going back. “That you grew up in New Orleans. That you were visiting when Hurricane Katrina hit. That must have been...stressful.”
He turned to stare out the small window, his back to her. When he didn’t answer, she didn’t know whether she should respect his privacy, or press for answers about what he’d experienced. To see if he needed comfort.
Suddenly, she felt like the biggest fool in the world, and couldn’t wait to get out of there, away from whatever he must be thinking about her showing up at his cabin uninvited.
“Never mind. I’ll just...go now.”
He turned back, his expression grim. He closed the gap between them, took her hand and sat down on the single bed, tugging her to sit next to him, hip to hip.
“I might as well tell you. Which will prove to you that you have good instincts.”
“What do you mean?”
“You knew from the minute we met that I wasn’t someone you could ever count on.”
“What do you mean?” she repeated. “I never said that. You have been a person I could count on. You fixed my head. Came diving with me even when you weren’t sure you wanted to. Helped me with two different patients, not to mention that it would have been a struggle to find someone to go into the field with me to see Jim if you hadn’t been around. You were there every time I needed you to be.”
“That’s different than what I’m talking about.” He twined his fingers with hers and looked down at them. “It’s true that I grew up in New Orleans. My parents died in a car accident when I was six, and my grandpar
ents raised me there.”
“Oh, Zeke. I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago, but even though I was so young, I still remember how strange it was to have them just...gone. How incredibly confusing and hard. The only thing that helped me get through it was my relationship with my grandparents. That comfort and stability when they took me in and gave me a home.” He looked up at her, and her heart ached for him when she saw the deep sadness in his eyes. “I was going to college in San Diego, and went home to New Orleans for a few weeks, between semesters. To see my grandparents and friends. Dive in the Gulf of Mexico, like I always had growing up. It’s what made me want to go into marine biology, and sent me to Southern California to go to school.”
“And you were in New Orleans when the hurricane hit.”
“Yes, at my grandparents’ house. It was a category three hurricane when it made landfall, not normally the worst. But the winds weren’t what caused the devastation. With the city sitting lower than sea level, when the levee broke, the gulf waters just poured in. The flooding was like nothing any of us ever imagined. The water just kept rising, until it was six feet up the walls of the house and still coming. My grandparents wanted to make a raft of some kind with the lumber they had stacked in their garage that we could use to float out of there.”
Her fingers tightened on his. “Did you?”
He slowly shook his head. “I didn’t think it was a good idea. My grandfather didn’t know how to swim, and the best my grandmother could do was a dog paddle. A raft would have taken time to build, time I wasn’t sure we had. And I was afraid if the water got fast, or we hit a tree or whatever while we were floating on that surging water, they’d get knocked off and maybe drown. I’m a strong swimmer, but I didn’t feel confident I could save them both. Plus, I didn’t even know where the water was running to, and wanted to figure that out while I came up with a plan.”