Page 98 of Ship Outta Luck

My chin juts out and I inhale the tangy salt air, calm settling over me.

Only one way to find out if I’m right or wrong.

“Did you ask if I could dive?” A gruff chuckle, before Dean ducks into the cabin.

Carefully, I pick my way back to the deck of the boat. “They’re to the left of the?—”

“Kinda hard to miss.” Dean winks, the sunlight somehow managing to flash off his all-American smile. Two sets of tanks and respirators clank against the deck.

The masks and snorkels follow, then the fins.

Grief stops me in my tracks, stealing my breath.

“You okay?” Dean pauses, the weight belts in his hand dropping to the seating.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“This is big, June. If what you think is down there is down there, take a minute. Soak it in. This is a big moment.”

“It’s not that.”

I swallow against the lump in my throat. “Those were his tanks. My dad’s.”

Dean doesn’t speak. Standing quietly for half a second, long enough that I regret saying anything at all.

He pulls me into him. His arms are around me, holding me. Strong. Safe. My cheek presses against his chest, his beard tickling my scalp, and I inhale deeply, catching the sea salt and sun scent of him, before cautiously circling his waist with my arms.

Dean leans his head on mine, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

There is what we had on the beach—the hot, the heavy, the kissing and his mouth and oh-my-god-the-kissing. And it was good.

Then there is this. This is what it could be, if it doesn’t burn out like a short fuse on a stick of dynamite.

Him, holding me steady. The sun beating down on us as the boat rocks beneath my feet and my heart rocks inside my chest. In his arms, I can let the stress go. I can relax. This embrace is different. Comfort. Companionship. Safety.

More than good old-fashioned lust.

The ache inside my heart eases and I pull away, tilting my chin up at him, afraid to breathe.

He takes me chin in his hand, and his soft smile nearly undoes me. “Take as long as you need, June.”

My throat bobs, and I press myself back against him, marveling at the way my body fits into his, the way he seems to know what I need.

The way he isn’t afraid to give it.

“Yes.”

“Hmmm?” The noise vibrates against my cheek.

“I said yes.” I look back up at him.

“To go in the water?”

“No, I mean yes, obviously, but alsoyes. Yes, Dean, I would very much like to go on a date with you.” It will be worth it. Even when he leaves. I’ll risk the hurt for more of this, more of him.

More of us.

He flashes that dazzling smile, and it takes all my self-control not to push him down and have my way with him. Self-control helped out by the fact that my shipwreck might lie mere yards away in the sand.

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