Page 119 of Ship Outta Luck

I always thought I’d be happier after I found the ship, like finding it would solve all my problems.

It didn’t.

Maybe I should try for one more slightly impossible thing. Maybe I should just see what happens with Dean instead of overanalyzing everything.

White-capped waves break against the dark surface of the water, and my hands are steady on my cup. The shaking stops. The teabag’s tag blows in the wind, and I let my mind drift.

“What’d Thompson say to you?”

I startle, so lost in my thoughts I didn’t Dean walk towards me.

He steps closer.

Despite all my best intentions, the walls I constructed in my mind, the arguments against this, against him, fail completely.

I’m happy to see him.

“Was he an ass?” There’s an edge to his voice now, so sharp it might cut me if I let it.

“Not at all.” My voice is soft.

Dean stiffens next to me, a muscle twitching in his jaw, and I avert my eyes. Everything about this man appeals to me. But why should I be the one to fix him? It isn’t my fault the last woman he loved did a number on him.

“Listen to me, princess.”

“June,” I correct, staring at the ominous gray horizon.

“Thompson is a sweet-talker.” He clears his throat and I cough, covering up a laugh, and turn to him, an eyebrow raised. “I don’t know what he said to you, and frankly, it’s none of my business, but just, you know, he’s a ladies’ man. I saw him touch your hair.”

“For crying out loud.” Great. I’m falling for a man who makes a living doing all kinds of government dirty work—and is also an idiot. “You’re right. It’s none of your business.”

He blinks, schooling his features into blankness.

“Do you want me to tell you what we talked about?”

“Maybe,” he says cagily, eyes avid, betraying his interest. His big hands fist at his sides. I avoid rolling my eyes, but just barely.

“Maybe?” I echo.

“Okay, yes. Yes, I do want to know.” He nods once, his eyes dipping to my lips, to the where myDivers Know How to Go Downshirt stretches across my chest.

“He told me you like me, and that you’re a good guy, Dean Evans.” My skin is electric, tingling in anticipation, my whole body primed to feel his hands on me.

My calves tighten as I raise up on my tiptoes and kiss him. He stiffens in surprise before his arms wrap around me.

Thunder rolls overhead and he deepens the kiss, his hands running through my still damp hair. My lips part, and I press myself against him. The hair on his jawline softer now, the harsh stubble gone. I revel in it, stroking his face, the blanket forgotten. The shivering stops as his tongue sweeps against my lower lip, and I moan into his mouth. Wanting his tongue in other places.

A crew member wolf whistles, a few others joining in.

Breaking the kiss, I grin at him and he turns, scowling. The Coast Guard applause dies at his expression.

“Do you want to know what else he told me, Dean Evans?”

I can’t take my eyes off him, off the desire in his expression. Loving the feeling of him around me, caging me in against the railing, his massive, strong body protecting me. The way he protected me this whole time, and not just physically. Letting me believe in my father’s innocence, letting me draw my own conclusions, then holding me tight as the truth came crashing down.

Part of me wants to be mad at him for ruining my memories of my father—but none of it is his fault. My father is in the past. What he did… it’s unconscionable.

But Dean isn’t in the past.

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