Devil and the Deep (The Ceruleans Book 4) - Julie Ann Walker Page 0,87

has some sort of throat problem apparently.

“It’s a really simple question,” she told him conversationally. “And don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I’m a big girl. I can take anything you tell me.”

And she convinced herself that was the truth, even though her insides were quivering around like pudding. She was nervous. Why am I nervous? Oh, right. Because she was putting herself out there and asking big, burly Mason McCarthy if he fancied her bod the same way she fancied his.

“So?” she prompted when he just stood there blinking at her. Is he nearsighted or something? Did sand get in his eyes?

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “What was the question again?”

“Ugh.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “How many times am I going to be asked that tonight?”

He must’ve thought it was a rhetorical question, because he didn’t answer her, simply continued to play the part of a blinking mute.

“Do. You. Find. Me. Attractive?” She enunciated each word and punctuated the end of the question with a quick flutter of her lashes.

A muscle ticked beneath his eye again. It was joined by another in his jaw. And for a while she thought he wasn’t going to answer her at all. But then he muttered, “Yes.”

It was just the one word. No elaboration. But it was all she needed to hear. “Then it’s perfect!” she said, grinning and clapping her hands.

“How do you figure?”

“Well, because you think I’m attractive and I think you’re attractive.” She began ticking off the reasons on her fingers. “You’re not some stranger at a bar. I know you. And you know me. And considering we don’t really get along in our everyday lives, there’s no chance we’ll develop any of those pesky romantic feelings for one another, so it’ll just be a physical thing. What do you say? Do you want to be my first?”

He choked again.

Does he have a medical condition?

She started to ask him if he’d seen a doctor recently when the radio on the table squawked to life. “Garden Key, Garden Key, this is Captain Andrew Webber with the United States Coast Guard transmitting on—”

Alex stopped listening to the rest of the transmission. She was too busy trying to turn her eyeballs into laser beams so she could fry the radio.

Could the timing be any worse?

Mason marched over and grabbed the handset. “We copy you, Captain Webber,” he said. “This is Senior Chief…uh…” He stopped and shook his head. “I mean this is Mason McCarthy of Wayfarer Island and Deep Six Salvage Company. We’re happy as hell to hear your voice. You’re earlier than we expected. Over?”

“Rrrrroger that, Senior Chief McCarthy,” the captain responded, doing Mason the service of addressing him by his Naval rank. One thing Alex had learned in the short time she’d been on Wayfarer Island was that military men, regardless of which branch of the armed services they worked for, always treated each other with due respect. “Headquarters usually errs on the side of caution. When I got the call you all needed some help, I figured I better blow the cobwebs out of the engines. Over?”

“Copy that,” Mason said. “We appreciate the effort.”

“Rrrrroger that, Senior Chief. We’re ten minutes out and closing fast. Over and out.”

Mason placed the handset back on the cradle and turned to her. “What?”

“I hope you don’t think this means you don’t have to answer my question.”

Mason pointed to the surrounding sea like the Coast Guard was pulling up beside them right now. “The authorities are almost here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What came out of your mouth was The authorities are almost here. But I’m pretty sure that’s Saved by the bell I see written all over your face.”

* * *

10:21 p.m.…

“I come here to chew bubble gum and kick ass,” Bran said. Maddy waited on the closing line and quietly mouthed it along with him. “And I’m all outta bubble gum.”

“They Live,” she said, pumping a fist when Bran chuckled and told her, “Damn, you’re good.”

They’d spread the sleeping bag out on the rough wood floor, undressed, and now lay side by side. Temporarily sated after the initial sexual frenzy, they’d started playing one of their old games, quoting the most badass movie lines they could think of and making the other person try to guess the title of the film. Only they’d added a new dimension to their play. For every title they guessed correctly, the other person had to kiss whichever body part the winner wanted.

It went without saying that

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