months and no.” He rocked back on his heels at her accusing expression. It wasn’t like he was to blame for his decade-long family estrangement.
She dipped a spoon into her soup, eyes still on his, and lifted a steaming mouthful to her lips. When her sexy mouth pursed, he felt himself harden. “So they have no clue you’re here.”
He cleared his throat. Dragged his wild thoughts back under control. “Wouldn’t make any difference if they did.”
“For who? Your parents love you.”
“They had a funny way of showing it.”
“You know they couldn’t help that. The business...”
“Was more important. Got it,” he said, thinking of the wilderness expedition touring company they ran that’d overtaken their lives and overshadowed his childhood.
His older brother, Robbie, had taken to exploring rugged terrain like a mountain goat, his father had proudly proclaimed, praising their golden child at every opportunity. As for Dylan, after an unforgettable viewing of The Guardian, he’d known on the spot he wanted to be a rescue swimmer and travel the world helping those in need. He and his old man butted heads nonstop about his reluctance to toe the line in the family business, about his attitude, about the way he tied his shoes, the way he breathed...about anything it’d seemed.
After one blowout fight too many, they’d palmed him off on his uncle, who’d given him a place to stay during school and a job on his crab-fishing boat. Since they hadn’t made one of his swim meets, missed his graduation, hell, just about everything, he’d decided to stop wasting his time missing parents he’d never really had and left Kodiak without another word when he’d gotten the call from the Coast Guard.
“That’s not true,” Nolee insisted. Her large extended family had always been a big part of her life. She’d never accepted his estrangement, a point of contention they’d had in their otherwise perfect relationship, along with her daredevil antics and unwillingness to leave Kodiak.
And her need to lock lips with his former best friend Craig.
He cleared his throat and his voice, when it emerged, sounded gruff. “Can I get you anything before I go?”
“A boat?”
One corner of her mouth lifted slightly, a grin-through-pain expression he’d glimpsed many times before. Nolee was the type to smile through a setback, laugh at an injury. It’d been the only way he’d known when she was really hurting. Despite everything, it bugged him that after growing up sleeping on family members’ couches and in shelters with her health-challenged single mother, she’d finally gotten what she’d always wanted—a place to call her own—and he’d played a part in her losing it.
Then again, if she hadn’t gambled on outrunning an unpredictable storm to take advantage of what he supposed had been an approved preseason run, she’d still have her boat.
Odds.
Nolee sure liked to play them. When she won, she won big, but when she lost...
He shoved the image of her sinking boat away. She was here now. Saved from her own worst instincts.
But who would be around to catch her the next time?
“Would you settle for Jell-O?” He pulled the clear wrap off the green, wiggling square on her tray. “And captain, huh? What you always wanted.”
Her eyes searched his. “Why are you really here?” She gestured with a sweep of her hand to the room around them, frowning.
Because I needed to see your eyes open.
He squashed that thought, along with the temptation to climb into that bed and warm her up in a way that would be much more enjoyable for both of them.
“Professional courtesy.”
She snorted. “My ass. Try again.”
“Want me to call Craig? Maybe you’d rather have him?” he asked instead, then nearly bit his tongue off.
Her mouth dropped open. She stared at him for a moment in charged silence. “Get out.”
He stepped forward, knowing he’d sounded like an ass, like the jilted boyfriend she’d turned him into, not the man who’d moved on with his life.
“Look, I’m...”
“You’re what, Dylan? You saved me and my men. Thank you, but your mission is done and I don’t need you anymore.”
He hung his head for a moment, then lifted his eyes to search hers. “No. You never did.”
Her gaze narrowed. Whatever she’d been about to say, however, was interrupted by a knock on the open door. A nurse bustled in and smiled at Nolee. “Ah. Good. Now I can tell your crew to hightail it out of here.”
“Goodbye, Nolee.” Dylan tipped his head to the nurse, cast a last look at Nolee and strode out the door.
Job done. Survivor’s health ensured. Now he could get on with his day. His life. And get it back on track, starting with putting in his transfer request to leave Kodiak ASAP before thoughts of Nolee wrecked his head again. He’d moved on, damn it. Today was a minor setback. A brief reminder of what could have been. Nothing more.
Three hours later, after catching the ferry back to Air Station Kodiak, he hung from a diving board at his base’s pool. He snapped off ten more pull-ups to complete his last set then let go, sinking to the bottom of the twenty-foot-deep end.
His body ached like he’d been hit by a truck and his chest burned. Sixty minutes of wind sprints, pull-ups and sit-ups. Another thirty jogging the track. An hour swimming. He should have exorcised his craving for Nolee by now. He gritted his teeth and pushed back against the instinct to surge to the top and drag air into his lungs. He stared up at the waving blue surface and envisioned the way she’d kissed him, her passionate response. She’d wanted him.
And he’d wanted her.
A swoosh sounded to his right as the shape of another service member plunged in beside him. Without missing a beat, the man shot him a quick middle finger then zipped to the surface, churning up the water with a lightning-fast crawl.
Anderson.
The newbie swimmer whose high-profile jeopardized mission three months ago had put the air station on alert and prompted them to assign Dylan to Kodiak to prevent more mishaps.
Sure. The commander had fed Dylan a line or two to sweeten the raw deal he had no choice but to accept. Claimed they needed his expertise on these treacherous waters. Felt he could impart that knowledge to Anderson and rebuild the guy’s shaken confidence. Promised they’d approve Dylan’s transfer request after Anderson redeemed himself.
So now, three months in, the cocky FNG was interrupting his solo workout and challenging him? The hell with that.
Using his thigh muscles, he shot off after the greenhorn, his elbows jetting out of the water, his pointed fingers reaching, driving, cleaving through the pool. Feet and legs kicking powerfully behind him. His fatigue dropped away and he raced, pushing hard,
