Page 62 of Uncharted

“I’ll get the water, Little Bird.” Zane stresses her nickname back to me.

“Okay, so what’s the big surprise, Firefly? You can tell us, since Dante’s not here.”

“I wouldn’t steal his thunder. He’s worked really hard.”

“We’re here.” Dante and Calvin come in from the main salon. Calvin’s holding a half-dozen beer bottles by their necks between his massive fingers.

“You brought enough to share.” Zane reaches for one.

“These are mine. But I guess I can let you have one.” Calvin holds them out for Zane to take one and then lines the rest up in front of his chair. It seems we have assigned seats now—we’re sitting in the same order as lunch. Haley’s sitting between Calvin and Dante. Next to Dante is Zane, then me. Easton is on my left, next to Calvin. At least I can look directly at her. I want to finish, or at least continue, what we started in the wheelhouse. And not being able to touch her is going to unlock a new level of torture during the meal.

“Sit, everyone. You too, Sassy.” Dante goes to the grill and comes back with two giant platters.

“Hot damn, is that pizza? You can’t be serious. Honestly, mate, you are the best chef on the whole fucking planet.”

“Relax, Zane, you haven’t tasted it yet.”

“Doesn’t matter what it tastes like, does it? It’s the idea of the thing.”

Dante walks to Haley. “Sassy, do the honors of taking the first slices.” She smiles and takes one. “Take two. Once it gets to the Viking, who knows if there will be anything left?” Dante makes a face at Calvin.

“I have manners, Chef. I’d never take food out of Haley’s mouth.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Dante furrows his brow and turns away. He makes his way around the table and holds the tray between Zane and me.

The table goes silent, just like it did at lunch. Damn, lunch was good, but pizza? Actual pizza. I’m not going to ask where he found the cheese. “Truly, this is some of the best pizza I’ve ever had. I’m not sure what magic you used to make it.”

“Sold my soul.” Dante lifts his wine glass. “Again.” He laughs. “To found family. The best kind.”

“Hear, hear,” Zane says and we all clink. Or mostly all clink. I can’t reach Haley’s glass. She lifts it, and her blue eyes connect with mine. Fuck, this girl... If there’s any magic around, it’s her.

Penny slumps at my feet. I didn’t feed her dinner, but she’s not asking. Chef must be sneaking her treats again. I take a long sip of the wine. Damn, that’s good. I twist the bottle to read the label. My eyes shoot up. Even when I was consoling myself with the expensive tequila, I didn’t touch this case.

“Relax, Sam. I opened it. You can have the other bottle if you want.” Easton shrugs.

“Château Lumière Éternelle 2015.” Shit, I know a little about wines and I knew enough to leave this case alone. It’s pricey.

“If my dad’s going to buy 55-million-dollar necklaces, we can drink his forty-thousand-dollar bottles of wine.”

Zane, unfortunately, is taking a sip when Easton says the price of the bottle, and he starts choking. I slap his back until he stops, and he guzzles his water down. Zane picks the glass back up and holds it to the light. “It’s good. But honestly, I don’t think it’s worth all of that.”

Easton shrugs. “It’s my dad’s favorite. We can raise a glass to his health, wherever he may be.”

“To Rocky,” I say. Easton gives me a nod. I really did—do—like Mr. Rockwell. Sure, he’s a rich ass who knows what he wants, but he does have a down-to-earth side. But also, terrible taste in women.

Easton stands and opens another bottle of wine. He has three lined up like Calvin’s beer soldiers. Easton fills all the glasses around the table, but Zane puts his hand over the top of his.

Easton laughs. “Don’t worry about the price. Here, the bottled water and shampoo have more value.”

“I’m not worried about the price. I’m thinking we should have one sober person to pilot the tender back to camp tonight.”

“Oh, good point.” Easton pulls the bottle back.

“Unless you all stay the night?” I ask.

Heads snap to me.

“As much as that sounds appealing, Cap—Sam—we’ve got a cat to feed, a fish weir to empty, and a tender that needs to be kept off the reef.” Calvin raises his beer to me.

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