Ride the Tide (Deep Six #3) - Julie Ann Walker Page 0,68
woman has a set of balls on her to do Wesley Warren Jr. proud.”
“That’s what I told her.” Chrissy agreed, then frowned. “Wait, who’s Wesley Warren Jr.?”
He shuddered dramatically. “A tragic guy with scrotal elephantiasis.”
She decided she’d rather not picture that. “Then Mason went and showed up this morning with Donna.”
Wolf’s brow wrinkled. “So? I thought you just said Alex and Mason agreed to be friends?”
Chrissy stared at her fishing rod and then stared at his head.
“Don’t even think about it.” His mouth curved around a knowing smile.
“Are all men clueless?” she demanded. “Or is it just those of you who live on an island in the middle of nowhere? He kissed Alex and then went and slept with someone else.”
“Mason didn’t have sex with Donna.”
She felt her forehead wrinkle. “And how do you know that?”
“He told Doc. Doc told me.”
“Even if that’s true,” she declared with a sniff, Team Alex all the way, “it doesn’t excuse his decision to let Donna drive him to the airport this morning. It was like he was rubbing her in Alex’s face.”
Wolf grimaced. “True. He probably could’ve been more sensitive.” His eyes laser-focused on hers when he said this next part: “But one bad decision does not define a man.”
She instantly felt uneasy and refocused her attention on casting her lure into deeper water. “Are we still talking about Alex and Mason?”
“Would you rather we be talkin’ about somethin’ else?” His voice was soft. “Like why you put your sleepin’ bag on the porch next to Alex’s daybed instead of in my bedroom?”
“Wh-what?” Her heart grew wings and fluttered like the fins on the pygmy sea horses that liked to latch onto the floating sargassum grasses.
“Ah, come on. Surely, after last night, I proved I can keep my hands to myself. No reason you should sleep on that hard trundle bed when I’ve got a nice, soft mattress upstairs.”
The Wayfarer Island house had seven bedrooms, one for each of the Deep Six Salvage guys and Uncle John. Alex had chosen the daybed on the screened-in porch for her abode. The few times Chrissy had stayed over after a dive session ran late, she’d slept on the trundle.
In short, Wayfarer Island was a bit like summer camp.
“While I’m grateful for last night”—she leveled a direct stare on him—“it was a one-off. Never to be repeated.”
A smile flirted with his perfect mouth. “I’ve learned never to say never.”
“Mmph” was all she allowed before feeling a tug on her line. She yanked her rod to set the hook.
“Got one!” Wolf hooted.
“Not a very big one,” she grunted, quickly reeling in her catch. It was a red grouper, and after pulling the hook from the fish’s bottom lip, she held it up for inspection. “A two-pounder, I’d say. Not big enough to keep.”
Wading into the shallows, she released the fish back into the ocean where she hoped it would grow big and strong before being hauled ashore again to end up on someone’s grill. Then she lifted her hand to shade her eyes against the sun as she squinted at the waves lapping over the reef.
If Alex was right, the Santa Cristina could be right out there. Under their noses all this time.
She got a little chill at the thought. Or maybe it was Wolf’s words that caused the goose bumps on her arms and legs.
There was a smile on her face when she returned to the beach and checked the knot on her lure. A good catch and release always made her happy.
“Christina of the Sea.” Wolf crossed his arms and grinned at her.
“What?” She turned to him.
“You’re so at home out here, miles from anywhere, nothin’ but sand and sea. You should’ve been born a mermaid.”
“Oh, believe me”—she cast her line again—“that was my most fervent wish until I was twelve. I used to beg my mother to change my name to Ariel.”
He chuckled. “Glad you stuck with Chrissy. It suits you.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You think? I don’t know. Bobby Joe Cuthbert called me Chrissy the Sissy after I got sick while dissecting a fetal pig in freshman physiology class.”
“Bobby Joe Cuthbert sounds like a penis wrinkle of legendary proportions.”
She snorted. “He was.”
“Chrissy isn’t a sissy. She’s straightforward. Effortless.”
Warmth spread through her at the compliment.
What the hell was she supposed to do with him now that she’d forgiven him? Now that she could look at him without remembering That Night? Now that she was beginning to like him again?