Page 8 of Spencer

Spencer chewed, swallowed, then rattled the list off easily, because it was something he was asked, often.

“At forty-seven, Trask is the oldest. Then Vincent, forty, Kyle, thirty-nine, Mason, thirty-seven, Julian, thirty-six, me, at thirty-five. DeAngelo—or Buck as we call him—is thirty-three, and Seifer is the baby at twenty-three.”

“Wow. Now I remember hearing all that from Vincent and feeling very sorry for your poor mother.”

Spencer snorted. “Are you kidding? With one wooden spoon and the voice of a drill sergeant, Ellen Sothard doesnotneed your sympathy. She more than kept us all in line.

“The one you should feel bad for is my beleaguered father. He was always trying to run interference between our hijinks and certain death when we were on his watch.” Spencer chuckled. “He was, and still is, a total push over. Very deliberate and fair-minded. And since we worked for him at the family mill, we knew when, where, and how much we could do to get ourselves into trouble without raising my mother’s wrath.”

Lifting a fork to his mouth that turned out to be empty, Spencer glanced down at his plate. He’d finished his food. When had that happened?

“I heard a few stories,” Tabitha giggled. “Particularly about Kyle, the jokester of the bunch.”

Spencer pushed his plate away and sat back, his attention now fully focused on the compelling female beside him.

Green eyes. She has green eyes.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Yeah. He was. But Kyle’s married now. To a stunt woman who keeps him on his toes. Remind me to tell you about the prank we played on him that led to him meeting Rowan.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Tabitha replied. “And Vincent?” she asked. “What’s he doing with himself? Is he married yet?”

Hopefully, the question was just rhetorical.

“He’s actually still in the Navy. He’s currently stationed at Point Loma in California.”

“Wow. Good for him. I always kind of knew he’d make a career out of things. Well, when you talk to him next, tell him I said hello.”

Oh, Spencer planned on it. As a matter of fact, once he was up on deck and alone on watch again, he wascallinghis big brother to pump for information regarding Tabitha.

He wanted to know everything about her.

“I’ll let him know that we’re on the same ship. It’s a small world for us ocean-farers,” Spencer chuckled. “And now…”

It seemed like all the guys, Pietro included, had become bored with the exchange of information, and had left the mess, one by one, until it was only Spencer and Tabitha left.

She read the room.

“I know. You have to get to work. Pietro told me you have the overnight watch. I’ll… Will I see you again tomorrow night for supper?” she questioned, a blush working up over her pretty face.

Spencer thrilled at the question, and knew he was going to be cheeky. But he couldn’t resist.

“Yup. It’s a date.”

CHAPTER 4

It was,at long last, morning. After a rough night tossing and turning in the tiny room to which she’d been assigned—a place she was certain the crew, more often than not, used as a storage closet—Tabitha was finally on deck. Her mind should be focused on climbing down the rope ladder which would bring her to the conning tower of her sub, but no.

She couldn’t keep her brain off one extremely fascinating man, whichcouldjeopardize her swing out to the Endora where it sat, tethered and secured with bumpers, next to the Atlaua’s hull.

She would have thought that as an adult, and a consummate professional at all times where her job was concerned, she’d have better control over her libido. But the man who’d haunted her dreams last night refused to be dismissed so easily.

Spencer Sothard.

Yeah.It was his fault. He was hotter than hot.

Sure, he looked a lot like his older brother; dark hair, dark eyes like Vincent, but Tabitha had never once been attracted to her old friend like she was to Spencer. Vince was one-hundred-percent scorching, but the man was a dog. He loved nothing more than adding notches to his bedpost, and having watchedhis nondiscretionary antics for several weeks after their initial introduction, Tabitha had determined she wasn’t going to be another one.

He’d eventually subjected Tabitha to some corny pick-up lines, and each time she’d shot him down with a laugh and a smile, he’d pretend-pouted. With her continued teasing, however, it hadn’t taken him long to regroup. After establishing for certain, during weeks of failed, half-assed attempts, that she wouldn’t be cajoled into becoming one of his harem, he finally laid off. They ended up having hilarious dinners together once he realized they were never going to be anything more than best-buds.

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