Page 135 of Ship Outta Luck

“I don’t want to.”

“What if it’s an emergency? What if it’s about my steak?”

He grins. “Well, that would be an emergency. Fine.” Carefully, as though I’m made from spun glass, he sets me on the bed, pulling the comforter over me. “Don’t forget where we were.”

I stretch my arms overhead, noting with satisfaction how his eyes track the simple gesture before he groans and picks up the phone.

“Hello?” A moment passes. Tension floods his body, his expression changing. “Got it. Where?” He faces the opposite wall, turning away from me.

I fiddle with the sheet’s embroidery, pulling at a loose string.

“Okay. No, I understand—” A long pause. “Yes, ma’am. Understood.”

My stomach falls, and I throw the covers over my head.

The hollow plastic sound of the phone being replaced on the cradle, then footsteps as Dean walks away from the bed. The sounds of fabric, a zipper, echo in my ears.

Why is it suddenly hard to breathe?

My throat constricts, and I pull my knees into my chest. A deep breath in, amplifying the blood pounding in my ears.

“Hey.” Light streams in where Dean pulls the sheets down, and I blink up at him. He’s dressed, black pants, black shirt. Black boots in one hand, ready to be laced up.

Leaving. Not in a week. Not tomorrow, but now. He’s leaving menow.

“Hi.” I tug the sheet down, wrapping it over my chest.

“I have to go.” His forehead wrinkles, and I resist the urge to press a finger to it, to wipe the worry away. “Thorne’s off chasing a lead, but Thompson is here, down the hall. He’ll be looking out for you.”

“Oh.” It’s soft. This is what life would be like with him. If he even wants to be in my life. He couldn’t do long moments in bed or at dinner, forget long weekends or cozy nights at home.

He wants to save the world. Maybe I could get used to that. But… this, this is a little fresh.

“June.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “There’s just a chain of custody issue. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He rakes ahand through his hair, a self-assured grin on his face. “Feel free to eat my food.”

“You don’t think you’ll be back tonight? I could stick it in the fridge.” I don’t want to sound desperate. Don’t want to seem weak, can’t bear to feel weak. But I want him to stay, to wake up in his arms in this beautiful room that isn’t a boat. To roll over and wrap my legs and arms around him and have it mean something.

“I don’t know. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I just don’t.” His hands ball into fists. “I’m sorry. Trust me, I don’t want to be anywhere but here.”

“Be safe.”

He starts to reach out, and for a split second, I think he might touch me, might know that I need soothing. Instead, he rubs the freshly clipped salt and pepper stubble on his jawline.

“I will. Oh, by the way, check the closet. There are some everyday things in your size, and there’s a cheap cellphone in there too. Don’t leave the hotel. If you need something, Thompson’s number is programmed in the cell. He’ll arrange to have whatever you need transported to you. My number’s in there too, but Thompson will be faster while I’m fixing this bullshit.”

“Okay, got it.” Moonlight dances across the bay, visible through the sliver of window not quite covered by the drape.

“June?” His voice comes next to my ear. Dean stands over me, delicious and dangerous-looking. “I’m really sorry about leaving. Listen… this,” his throat bobs. “This meant something to me. You mean something to me.”

“Oh.” My heart does a funny flip. “That’s good.” Maybe there is room for me in his life, after all. I allow myself to smile, beaming up at him.

“Why?” A lopsided grin turns the corner of his mouth up.

“Because you mean something to me too.” The words come out small, tentative and true. “I want you.”

“Again?” he says, a teasing smile on his face.

I nod, my smile growing. “And you know, maybe after all this is done… we could try to figure out long distance. If you want to test out theSpeedtheory.”

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