Wanted (Amanda Lance) - By Amanda Lance Page 0,66

me—he simply felt too good. Slowly, he began to kiss the base of my collarbone, the lobe of my ear, and I felt myself slipping away.

“I like this spot,” he whispered in my ear. “I think it might be my favorite.”

My legs quivered against his and clenched at his waist. If he was trying to distract me it was working much too well.

“You don’t play fair.” I tried to laugh, but the sound came out as a labored breath.

“Hey!” He pulled away abruptly. “I was gonna do some work with the container gear. You feel like helpin’ a guy out?”

I bit my lip and simulated consideration. “Well, I’d have to check my schedule, but I think after my spa treatment I might have some time.”

As we laughed, black smoke began wafting from the stove to the remainder of the galley in heavy tufts and a major stench.

“Oh man! Oh man!” Polo grabbed a towel and hopped up on the counter to begin waving at the smoke detector.

“Don’t worry,” Charlie said. “This happens all the time.”

I nodded in agreement, thinking of home. “I completely understand.”

Although the work was mundane, it felt good to stretch out in the sun and kick off my sandals. Charlie had assigned me the task of staining some old antenna holders that had just been rid of their rust, and I was more than happy to be of any kind of use. The waves below were particularly forceful today, throwing themselves against the side of the ship loudly enough to even drown out the noise of power washing. I held on to the side of the deck and looked over into the ocean—it seemed more menacing today than it had in the days before.

Charlie came to stand beside me. “It’ll storm later.”

It was worrisome the way he repeated himself. He was distracted enough to stare out beyond the long waves, and I could see that cumbersome weight on his shoulders again.

“That should be fun. I like the rain.”

He glanced over his shoulder. I saw his brow crease. “Depends on the kind of storm. Could put us ’hind schedule if it’s real bad.”

I picked up one of the brushes and dipped it in the thick, protective coating. “Yeah, Polo mentioned the ship would arrive on time…”

He turned away from me and began hammering away at a bolt. “You’ll be home before ya know it.”

“That’s really good.” My voice cracked a little, but I tried to count the brush strokes and stay focused on the task in front of me. If I meditated on it enough, then maybe I wouldn’t have to think about how sad the idea of being away from Charlie really made me.

He began working on a set of boards opposite me, resting his back against mine. I had the sense he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. I heard him sigh and open his mouth to speak multiple times before he eventually spoke. “Addie, I wish that things could be different. But when ya get off this ship, there’s gonna be a lot going on, people are going to be asking you all kinds of questions—”

“You don’t have to say it,” I interjected. “I know I’ll have to say something, but if I start practicing now, maybe I can get myself to cry on cue and at the very least—”

“No, Addie.” He turned around swiftly and grabbed me by the shoulders with such ferocity that I lost the grip on my paint brush. “No!” He tried again. “I don’t want you to lie for me. The guys, they…” He sighed and loosened his grip. Still, his accent was incredibly thick, and I was now knowledgeable enough to understand that meant trouble. “—they want me to get ya to lie or stay with us long-term.”

I tried to digest the information he was feeding me. “I couldn’t do that, Charlie. The staying part, anyway…”

His voice caught in his throat. “It wouldn’t be an option.”

I threw myself into his arms. What was he saying? Was I still in some kind of physical danger? No. No. I knew better—Charlie wouldn’t hurt me. He simply couldn’t.

“You wouldn’t do that, Charlie. I know you, and I know you wouldn’t.”

“Addie, ya ain’t listenin’. There are a lotta things ya don’t know. I’ve done awful things…” He squeezed me tighter, clutched me as though he could seep the information into my skin without ever having to say anything out loud.

“You keep saying that, Charlie. And maybe you have done some things

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