Page 4 of Joel
He claps me hard on the shoulder. “You’re so fucked.”
3
KYLIE
“How far isthe lodge from here?” I ask the coastguardsmen in the office they call a bullpen.
I’m relieved that the incident report was quick and to the point. No one seems to suspect anything as far as the treasure hunt is concerned, and for that, I’m grateful. One less thing for Todd to chew me a new asshole over. Plus, I’d much rather sleep in my nice cushy hotel room bed than a jail cell tonight.
“From base?” Petty Officer Pierson’s gaze drops to my neoprene boots. “Further than you’ll want to walk in those.”
I fix my easy, confident smile in place, and ask again, “How far?”
“A good four miles.”
“Can you show me on the map?” I ask, nodding to the wall behind him. I’m both hot and cold, thanks to this damn dry suit, and I’m ready to change out of it. I’m also ready for a nice cold beer and a really long nap. My phone is dead, so I won’t have to deal with Todd until much later.
“You mean the chart?”
“Petty Officer Pierson, is it?” I ask.
“Joel,” he says, his tone lowered. As though he doesn’t want his fellow coastguardsmen to hear him tell me something so…private. The moment feels oddly intimate. I shake the thought away. He might be ridiculously hot, but that does not mean I found the love of my life while I was stranded on the Bering Sea. Even for one of those sappy romantic movies, that’s a stretch.
This is lust, pure and simple.
“Joel—it’s a map,” I debate.
“Actually, it’s a chart, ma’am,” Petty Officer Black pipes up from his desk in the corner.
“Says who?”
“Says the United States Coast Guard,” Captain Steele, one of the pilots, says, entering the bullpen.
“Don’t mind them,” Joel says. “Neither one of them is getting enough sleep.”
“You don’t have to be jealous,” Petty Officer Black ribs, a smirk plastered on his face that makes the meaning very clear. So do the gold bands they both wear on their left hand. It also suggests that Joel is single, and a tingling in my core seems to approve of this new nugget of knowledge, against my better judgment.
“I’m not fucking jeal—” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence.
I study his facial expressions, or I try to. Because my gaze keeps dropping to his lips. Lips I very much want to feel pressed against my own—and other various places on my body.
Fuck, I need to get laid. Maybe just this once, I could make an exception to my rule not to date anyone who has the ability—and duty—to turn me into the authorities for the illegal activities I’ve been forced into participating in.
“Let me give you a ride,” he offers, seemingly eager to get the hell out of here.
“I don’t want to trouble anyone,” I say, meaning it a little. But one glance at those ocean blue eyes, and suddenly all I want to do is trouble him. Trouble him in the best fucking way possible.
“It’s no trouble,” Captain Steel says, clapping Joel on the shoulder so hard he rocks forward. “But first, there’s a local news reporter who’d really like to interview you two.”
My stomach sinks instantly. I feel as though I swallowed a chunk of lead.
Todd has made it clear for years that the only one who does interviews in his company is him. I’ve never been allowed on camera to do anything more than smile.
“No,” Joel says firmly. “I’m not?—”
“Petty Officer Pierson, that’s an order.” Captain Steel looks to me and adds, “Would you mind humoring Nancy? We don’t get much excitement in North Haven. It’s just a small local news channel. Viewership is less than a thousand people.”
“I don’t know?—”
