Page 35 of Kept By the Kraken

“And why is that?” he asks, his deep voice sparking a pool of heat in my core.

The door handle digs into my side, but all I can feel is his warm hand rubbing back and forth along my hip and the spark between us pulling me toward him.

“Because you can be very—” My thoughts scatter as he sucks along the column of my neck.

“I can be what?”

Bjorn doesn’t let me answer. Instead, he pulls me closer, his hands finding my ass and his lips taking mine in a heated kiss that leaves me breathless. When he finally pulls back, I’m wet and dazed.

I brace against the car and try to get my breathing under control. “You are definitely banned from the lab until I’m not tempted to get naked with you every second.”

He chuckles as I force myself to get it together enough to get in the driver’s seat. I turn on the car and roll down the window.

Bjorn reaches into the pocket of his worn jeans and pulls out a choker, dangling it between his fingers. “I made this to cover my claim marks. That way people won’t ask questions.”

He leans in and drapes it around my neck as I pull up my hair. His warm hands on the back of my neck as he locks the clasp in place make me shiver.

“I love it. Where did you get the charm?”

“I made it early this morning before you were up,” he rumbles, eyeing my neck with a heated look of possessive satisfaction.

“You made this?” I ask, feeling as if I have stars in my eyes. Has anyone ever done something so thoughtful?

He nods, giving me a shy smile.

The gift is a simple band of purple velvet ribbon, wide enough to cover my throat, with a small wooden tentacle charm that hangs in the center. I reach so I can see myself in the rearview mirror, tracing my hands along my throat. It’s perfect. A reminder of him that allows me to keep our secret and still feel close to him.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He leans his forearms on the windowsill. “Now, go be productive. I’ve got a project I need to get workingon anyway, but don’t be surprised if I turn up bayside to ride home with you. What time do you think you’ll be done?”

It’s already after ten since we went out collecting this morning, and I need to make up for lost time. “Probably late. After five.”

He nods and taps the roof, backing up so I can turn around. With a resigned sigh, I drive away, feeling as if I’m leaving my heart at the lighthouse.

About halfway down the long, ambling drive through the forest, a blurry figure emerges in my side mirror. I slow to a stop as the speeding figure comes closer. Bjorn catches up faster than would be possible for a human and leans into my window.

“You forgot this,” he explains before kissing my cheek and handing off an old steel lunch pail he packed for me this morning.

“Sorry!” I wince.

“Nah, I distracted you.” He’s not angry I forgot, his lips tugged up into an amused smile. My apprehension dissipates at his easy acceptance. “Have a good day at work, Wildcat.”

Xavier,one of the permanent NOAA lab employees, pops his head around the doorframe as I’m lining up the sample. “I’m heading out. You’ll lock up?”

I nod but don’t look up. “Have a good evening.”

Turning the fine adjustment knob of my light microscope, I bring the sample into a clear view and watch for motility of viable sex cells. I find some irregularities in the sample and log them before moving on to the next.

Now that everyone has left for the day, the lab is quiet, and I find it easier to hunker down. My stomach grumbles, remindingme that the lunch Bjorn packed was ages ago, but for now I ignore it, focusing on the next slide.

“You always did have the ability to hyper-focus like no one else.”

My ex-husband’s smooth voice startles me, and I knock the glass slide out of place, my vision scattered. I turn to see Daniel leaning against the door jamb of the lab. He just turned forty and usually looks the part of the distinguished handsome professor. He’s always been a sharp dresser, the salt-and-pepper sprinkled in his meticulously styled hair adding to the tailored clothes and giving his features an air of distinction.

But right now, he looks haggard. Dark splotches dot the skin under his eyes, and his normally put-together look is ruined by the rumpled shirt and coat he’s wearing. I recognize both, which is unusual. He hardly ever wears the same thing two years in a row.

“Shit. You scared the hell out of me, Daniel. What are you doing here?” I ease back from the microscope and brace my hands on the lab table.

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