Page 49 of Ship Outta Luck

In one smooth motion, I unhinge the top and dump the crabs in.

“You’re getting good at that.” Her voice is slightly choked, and when I glance up at her in confusion, her eyes are wide, pupils slightly dilated.

The fish flops onto the deck. Its gills work overtime, trying to suck in water that isn’t there.

I grab for him, trying to get him back in the water.

“Don’t—” June exclaims, her palm squeezing my bicep. God, her hand feels good.

“Worried about me, princess?” I croon, then throw the fish overboard. Stunned, it floats for a second before swimming into the dark green waters below. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Catfish have poisonous barbs, I just didn’t want you to?—”

“Didn’t want me to what?” I pause, watching the way the climbing sun shines against the dark fall of her hair, new freckles sprinkled like stars across her nose.

The way her chest rises and falls as she takes hectic breaths.

Either she doesn’t want me to know what’s in the crab trap, orshedoesn’t want to know what’s in it. Especially considering how firmly she’s stuck to the idea that her dad was innocent in all of this, like he didn’t bring the smugglers down on her head.

“Are you worried about me, princess?” I raise one eyebrow, giving her my best sexy grin.

Because I know being annoyed with me will distract her from whatever’s going on in that brilliant, pretty head of hers.

Sure enough, her expression goes flat with annoyance, and I chuckle at it.

“Want to open it?” I gesture to the dive box in the bait pot.

June fidgets.

“Fine.” She cringes though, biting her lip. “I don’t know if I want to know.” The words are bleak, and there’s a sudden breakable quality about the woman that makes me want to draw her into my arms, to keep her safe.

I don’t want her to cry.

“Princess, if you want me to handle your box, I am all too happy to oblige.”

That fragile quality turns to outrage as she processes what I’ve just said.

“You’re out of control.”

“Just trying to keep you on your toes,” I tell her honestly. “You okay?”

“No.” She shakes her head, then fixes me with a steely gaze. “I’m not. If what you’re accusing my father of is true, then I’m about to find out, and I’m not sure what to do with that. Now get the goddamn box out or I’ll do it myself.” She rounds on me, the panic bleeding out of her features, replaced by steel and anger.

“Goddamn, is it?” I blow out a breath, suppressing a smile. “Well, I had no idea you felt so strongly about it,princess.”

“You really are a donkey sometimes, Evans.” Her nose scrunches up.

“Just sometimes?” I smirk, flipping the trap over and unlatching the bait pot, indulging the impulse to keep ribbing her. “Or is it just that you like my assets so much you’re afraid to use that word?” I tease.

“There’s nothing special about your butt. Not that I’ve looked at it.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.”

June’s delicate features are set, her eyes tight and focused. If not a bit angry at me.Good. I need her angry. It will be easier to keep her at arm’s length if she stays annoyed with me.

I need to keep her there.

She’s too nice to keep any closer.

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