Risky Desires (Wolf Security Book 2), page 15
What the hell is Dad doing?
Through the front windshield, Dad pointed at our backup hydraulic winch that hadn’t worked in years. As the pair of them nodded and sipped their coffees, Tyler seemed to get more of a conversation out of Dad than I did in a whole week.
They put their mugs down, and Tyler pulled off his T-shirt. As he anchored it beneath a toolbox, I was graced with an impressive view of the defined muscles lining his chest.
I nearly swallowed my tongue when the pair of them worked together to pull the front compartment off the engine housing and began taking the machine apart. Tyler must have some kind of magical draw because there was no way Dad would work with a cop.
I bit back a sigh. Or maybe Dad was just enjoying male company for a change. I could relate to that. I would enjoy some male company, especially with a man as freaking sexy as Tyler.
Tyler and Dad laughed at something, and I couldn’t stop staring. I couldn’t remember the last time Dad belly laughed like that. Then again, it was hard to laugh when we worked and lived on the boat that held too many bad memories and too many ghosts of Mom.
A wave of jealousy washed through me. I wanted in on their conversation and laughter.
Tyler turned to me and waved. Then the annoying bastard watched me until I had no choice but to wave back. Fighting the smirk on my face, I finished off my coffee and hated that it tasted too bitter and too sweet.
Damn him for ruining my morning caffeine fix.
As the men seemed to work in total harmony, I settled with my butt against the back counter, watching them. Rather than wrestle with the demons that constantly marched around my mind, I tried to relax and enjoy the show. Dad was so used to working solo that I was surprised that he accepted Tyler’s help, but Tyler wasn’t just helping, he seemed to be taking charge. Maybe he’d downplayed his mechanical skills.
Maybe he could refurb all our aging equipment.
As the sun arced overhead and we headed further and further away from civilization, Dad and Tyler moved from one job to another. I opened my ancient computer, and when it finally found a signal, I checked my bank balance.
Holy shit. It had been way too long since I’d seen five figures in my account. I plucked the overdue notices off the corkboard and shuffled them into order of importance.
“Hey, captain.”
Jerking back, I gave him a foul look. “Goddammit, Kinglsey. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“Sorry. Would you like one of my special coffees?” His smile was so damn swoon-worthy my knees just about buckled.
“You’re not going to relent until I do, are you?”
“Nope.” He flared his stunning blues at me.
“All right then, show me what all the hoo haa is about.”
He winked. “Coming right up.”
The hum of Rhino’s engines vibrating beneath my feet was a comforting purr for a change. I pinned the bills back on the corkboard, then I checked our direction and adjusted the steering wheel a fraction.
“Here you go.” Tyler stepped onto the bridge with a steaming mug. “Tyler’s special brew with three sugars.”
“Special brew, huh?” I took the coffee from him and sniffed.
“Smell good?”
You smell good.
He blinked at me.
Oh shit, did I say that out loud?
My heart skipped a beat.
“Taste it,” he said, his eyes shimmering.
I sipped the coffee; the blend was smooth and didn’t have any bitterness.
“It’s good, right?”
I chuckled. “Okay, you win. It’s an improvement on my Blend 43.”
He laughed, and Officer Fancy Pants hit another level of smoking hot.
“How are we going?” He nodded at the map I had laid out on the back counter.
“We’re traveling well. Still a few more hours. How are you going with Dad?” I took another sip.
“He’s great,” Tyler said. “He tells some funny stories.”
What the hell? I just about choked on my coffee. Nobody ever called Dad great, especially not when it came to conversation.
“Are you hungry? Zena gave me enough food to last us a week,” Tyler said.
“Yeah, actually, I’m starving. That would be great.”
“I’ll be back in a tic.”
Tyler and Dad joined me on the bridge to eat, and as the pair of them chatted about fishing and boats, I couldn’t believe Dad was the same man who woke up this morning.
Zena’s mini hamburgers were amazing, and Tyler’s coffee really was to die for.
But it was Dad’s jovial mood that made me happy.
The rest of the day was a continuation of everything good about our morning, and as the sun dipped lower, streaking the sky with molten hues, the sea air drifted through the bridge, coaxing away the stale air that seemed to have dominated my zone for years, tempting me to believe that Dad and I may have finally turned the tide on our miserable years.
It would be about time.
Tyler’s whistle preceded his entrance onto the bridge.
“Hi, captain.” He leaned against the door frame, yet he commanded my attention in more ways than I wanted to admit.
“Well done, Kingsley. You remembered.”
“Why are you so jumpy, anyway?” A playful edge carried his words.
I scowled at him rather than reply because I had absolutely no idea why I was so jumpy.
He scanned out the windshield. “How are we going?”
“We’re cruising just fine. You and Dad finished for the day?” I asked.
“Old Smithy has gone for a lie-down.” His tone was so caring, my chest squeezed. “He’s a good guy.”
His unexpected comment was warm and oddly soothing.
“Many would disagree.” I stepped back from him, trying to escape his manly scent.
“Maybe they don’t know him.”
“You think you know him?” I folded my arms.
He shrugged. “I guess not. But I know his type.”
“Oh yeah, and what type is that?”
“The type who would kill to protect their family.”
He had that right. It was a pity Dad hadn’t been able to save Mom that way.
We fell into an easy silence that wasn’t strained or awkward. It was new territory for me to be around a virtual stranger and not feel guarded.
Every so often, I sensed his blue eyes watching me, but he would shift them away before I could catch him.
I had the feeling he was gearing up to ask me something I wouldn’t want to answer, so I said, “What’s your story, Kingsley?”
“Story?”
“Yeah, you know, kids? Wife? Trail of destruction behind you?”
He released a nervous chuckle, and I blinked at him. Had I hit a nerve?
“None of that.”
“What? No baggage?”
He shrugged. “Nope.”
“Hmmm.”
“Ever think about life off the boat?” His gaze fixed on me.
“Nope. And you changed the subject.”
“No, I didn’t. I told you I don’t have any baggage.”
“Then either you’re a fucking hermit or a liar.”
A fleeting shadow crossed his face but was hidden quickly by a half-smile. I had a feeling that he had some serious baggage.
I turned to the endless ocean ahead. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to tell me.”
He sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”
I swooped my gaze at him, and a flicker of sadness crossed his eyes.
“I can’t tell you,” he finished.
I cocked my eyebrow. “Were you in the Secret Service or something?”
“Or something.” He shrugged, and for some crazy reason, I believed him.
“Playing with the big boys, huh?”
“Yep.” His tone held no malice, yet it was disarming. “What about you?”
“Yep, I have more baggage than what went down with the Titanic.”
He burst out laughing. “Then you and I are going to get along just fine.”
That’s what scares me.
A pang of longing swam through me. It was so nice to have a decent conversation, but it wasn’t just our discussion I was enjoying . . . it was him.
With each nautical mile, our small talk continued. We shared our likes and dislikes of food; fancy restaurants for him and junk food for me. And music; he liked classical music, which just about floored me. I was more into AC/DC and Jimmy Barnes. We discussed the pros and cons of growing up as only children. He talked so fondly of his mom and dad that I was completely jealous of the bond he had with his mother.
I was beginning to understand that he really wasn’t able to tell me some things, but that only made him much more interesting.
Finally, we neared the location represented as a tiny red circle on the map, and I eased back the throttle.
It was rare to have barely any breeze at this time of day. Normally, the afternoon winds brought choppy waves. Today, though, the ocean’s surface gleamed like polished steel as the setting sun cast golden hues on the western horizon. I cut the engines, and Rhino coasted to a gentle stop, bobbing on the swells. The sonar had led us to a stretch of sea that looked no different than any other.
Tyler and I leaned over the magnetometer monitor. We had no idea what we were looking for, but if there was anything metal on the bottom of the ocean, then it would show up on this monitor.
“How does this thing work?” Tyler asked.
“The magnetometer measures anomalies in the Earth’s magnetic field. So, it detects anything magnetic like iron or—”
Tyler jabbed his finger at the corner of the monitor. “You mean like that?”
We both leaned over the screen, and our shoulders nudged together.
“Holy shit.” I gasped. “That’s not a boat. It’s a plane.”
CHAPTER 14
Tyler
Side by side, Indiana and I stared at the fuzzy image of the small plane wreck on the bottom of the ocean.
“Jesus, I didn’t expect to find that,” I said. “I thought it was going to be another shipping container.”
“Same,” she said. “I’m glad it’s not though. I couldn’t handle going through another one of those.”
“I know what you mean. I better let Aria and Captain Watts know.” I pulled my phone from my pocket.
“No signal out here, Kingsley.” She scrunched her nose, making her look so cute. “Unless you brought a sat phone with you.”
I jabbed a few buttons on the screen. “Do you have a sat phone?”
“We used to, but I had to sell it to buy fuel. I always intended to replace it, but, you know, there was always something else that took priority.” She nodded to the paperwork on the wall with a couple of overdue notices on top.
I studied the plane again. It looked like a Cessna or similar make of aircraft, but the wings were missing, so it appeared as a long narrow tube on the monitor. It was impossible to tell how long it had been down there, but that had to be what Chui’s DIMS was tracking.
“We need to go down there and check it out?” I said.
She jerked back, frowning. “We? As in, you and me?”
“Yeah. I told you I know how to scuba dive.”
She squinted at me. “Yeah. When you were sixteen.”
“I have an excellent memory. I’ll be fine.”
“No way.” She stepped back.
“Why not?”
“I’m not going to be responsible for you going belly up because you forgot to breathe.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I promise I won’t blame you if anything goes wrong.”
“Pfft, you won’t be the one blaming me if you’re dead, mister.”
“Okay, how about this? We do a test dive first, and if I prove to you that I know what I’m doing, we’ll do our next dive down to that plane.” I pointed at the monitor.
She folded her arms and did a sexy thing with her lips where she was trying to be angry but couldn’t quite get there. “Damn, you’re pushy.”
“Pot, kettle, Captain Bossy Boots.”
She burst out laughing, and I loved seeing her unrestrained. “Alrighty, mister, let’s see if you remember how to set up your dive gear.”
She led the way to Rhino’s rear and shoved open a heavy door. Her equipment cupboard was the definition of organized chaos. I helped her remove two air tanks and dive vests, and we dragged them and the rest of the equipment we needed down to the dive deck.
She stepped back with her hands on her hips. “Show me how you put these together.”
It may have been thirteen years since I’d completed my scuba dive course, but for once, my photographic memory came in very handy.
Once the kit was complete, I checked the valve to make sure air was flowing, then stepped back to see her reaction. “Done.”
She darted her eyes upward.
Had she been checking out my butt?
Sucking her lips into her mouth like she was trying not to smile, she stepped forward to examine my work.
“And?” I asked.
She turned to me and gave the okay signal.
I matched her hand sign.
She shook her head. “I hope I don’t regret this, Kingsley.”
“Life’s too short for regrets.”
“Unless it’s your life that’s cut short.”
I smiled. “Yes, I guess there is that.”
She thumped my shoulder. “Let me wake up Dad and tell him what we’re doing.”
With Old Smithy seated on the steps down to the dive deck watching us, we hoisted our dive kits onto our backs.
I checked my gear one last time.
“Remember, it’s all about control,” Indiana said, her voice adding to the mild breeze blowing across the ocean. “Your breath, your movements, your thoughts. All controlled.”
“Got it.” Control was something I fully understood. In my deep undercover days, it meant survival. Underwater, it would be just as critical.
The afternoon sun glanced off the water, casting long shadows over the dive deck. My heart hammered with a mix of nerves and excitement. Indiana watched me with eyes sharp as flint.
“Ready?” I asked, trying to sound casual, yet not missing the edge to my voice. I couldn’t afford to screw this up.
“Start your dive time,” she replied, showing her serious side. “Mark our time, Dad.”
Old Smithy squinted against the glare, and I wondered why he didn’t wear sunglasses. “Don’t do anything stupid down there.”
I assumed he was talking to me, and I nodded. “I won’t.”
“Be careful, Indy,” he said in a tone that suggested that he was almost nervous about saying it.
“As always, Dad. Don’t go to sleep,” she shot back before turning to me. “Let’s go. Forty minutes max. Keep right beside me.”
“I’ll stay glued to your hip.” I pulled my mask onto my face and took a giant stride off the back of the boat into a world where I was not the apex predator and where my detective skills meant very little.
The chilly water hit my face like a slap, catching me by surprise. Indiana had insisted that we wear wetsuits, and I was glad she did. The cool ocean seeped through the neoprene and stole the warmth from my skin. The cool bite sharpened my senses, and as my ears filled with the sounds of swooshing water, I inhaled my first breath underwater in over a decade.
Indiana waved in front of my mask, and I gave her the okay signal.
It was weird to hear my own breathing, and it took a few minutes for me to get a handle on my buoyancy with my integrated vest. But I only had to fiddle with minor adjustments before I was able to stick to Indiana’s side.
As she led me around and underneath Rhino, she took me through a few drills.
Indiana moved with an ease that made me look clumsy. The dim light filtering down from above highlighted the sun-bleached tips of her hair that trailed behind her like whisps of silk. She was strong, yet graceful. Although she kept watch around us, her gaze never drifted too far from me.
I caught glimpses of her pale pink lips parting ever so slightly as she adjusted her regulator in her mouth. The scar on her forehead, usually hidden under her thick bangs, was prominent, like a badge of honor. Knowing what little I did about her, I imagined it would be a scar she didn’t regret. Despite being concealed in her wetsuit, her toned arms and long legs looked incredible.
My wrist scraped against Rhino’s barnacled hull, and I snapped my arm back, chiding myself to focus on what I was doing. My eyes betrayed me, drawn to her smooth movements as she swam alongside me. She was at home here in the ocean.
I didn’t have anywhere that would give me the look of pleasure she was displaying.
The trailer home I lived in was a temporary one, and other than my coffee machine, I didn’t have any special comforts. I didn’t even know how long I would stay in Rosebud.
Indiana was so relaxing to watch that I forgot about the fact that I was breathing underwater and enjoyed the freedom of feeling weightless.
She tested me with a few hand signals, and after I signed my replies, she indicated up, and we rose to the surface at the dive deck.
I tugged my breather from my mouth. “How did I go, boss?”
She splashed water over me. “I’ll give you boss.”
Wiping water from my face, I grinned. “I’ll take that as an A plus.”
“Okay, I’ll admit, I’m impressed. Your buoyancy is good.”
“Wow, I bet that hurt to say.”
She jumped onto my shoulders and pushed me under the water.
Laughing, I resurfaced, and she was talking to her dad.
“. . . have another thirty minutes on the clock, so we’ll check out that plane. Okay?”
He saluted. “Okay. Don’t get distracted down there.”
She turned to me. “Make sure you equalize your ears early and regularly. You remember how to do that?”
I pinched my nose and pretended to blow air out my ears.
“Good. If they hurt, just rise a bit until you fix them. You ready to go again?”
“Let’s do this.” I put the breather into my mouth, and releasing air from my vest, I lowered beneath the surface with her.
