Undertow (5 page)

That visit was indelibly etched on her mind, like the engine·s VIN

number, marking it as one of a kind.

Teal·s heart thumped painful y, and she felt a prickly wash of hot and cold from head to toe.

God « ´Too good looking.µ She looked straight ahead. Stupid of her to have said anything at al , thereby drawing attention to a subject she was trying hard to avoid. ´Too ful of himself. Too rich. Too charming. Take your pick.µ Been there, done that. She didn·t relish being around yet another guy who felt entitled just because he was rich and good looking, a guy who used his charm like a weapon.

Ál true, but we see al those things as attributes, not faults.µ Maggie laughed, her eyes sparkling with female understanding. Óur Zane is a breath of fresh air. I must admit, I have a particular soft spot for him. He·s so gregarious, charming, and naughty. And of course, delightful y charismatic.µ

´
And
he knows it too.µ

´Wow,µ Maggie murmured, looking a little puzzled. Ál that and you haven·t seen him in what? Six years?µ

Í was here for the funeral.µ Eighteen months, twenty-two days, and fourteen hours ago.

Not nearly long enough as far as she was concerned. She felt cold to her core in spite of the heat. Tortola got larger and larger as they approached, the water so clear she could see fish swimming on the pale sandy bottom.

´You have some pretty strong feelings about Zane.µ Maggie was like a dog with a bone.

´How about Nick and Logan?µ

Teal didn·t real y want to talk about
any
of them. Other than being on dry land, she real y wanted to go down and inspect her engines. The sooner she evaluated their condition, the sooner she could go to work.

Í don·t know them.µ This was going to be a hel ishly long trip if she had to spend it avoiding Zane
and
redirecting Maggie·s questions.

´Maybe not, but I·d hazard a guess that you have an opinion anyway.µ

Maggie didn·t sound quite as friendly now.
Okay. Now I·ve pissed her off by
not worshipping at
the feet of her retriever.
Teal felt a pang of regret and wished she hadn·t shared those truths with someone who could·ve been an al y on the trip.

Navigating the shoals of a friendship was treacherous. Teal had already failed, and they weren·t even an hour into the job.

Ĺogan·s pretty reserved, I think.µ The oldest sibling·s dark and brooding exterior seemed to match a dark and brooding personality. Sam had told her once he was cal ed Wolf and wasn·t very social. Wel , neither was she, but she wouldn·t want to bump into the oldest Cutter in a dark al ey. He made her nervous, too, but in a different way than Zane did.

´He seems like a guy who wants to be left alone,µ she muttered diplomatical y.

And despite the lifesaving offer of a job thousands of miles away from Orange Beach, Alabama, and light-years away from San Francisco and Denny, she·d try to give him a wide berth.

Ĺogan values his family highly. He·s a good man to have as a friend. A good guy to have at your back.µ

Teal suspected he·d make a powerful enemy if crossed. Í·m grateful he offered me a chance to fil in for Sam.µ She felt the sting behind her lids. Fil in. As if the type of cancer her father had was curable³as if he might ever come back to a job he loved. She was lousy at interpersonal relationships. Give her a freaking knocking engine any day. Yeah, she got that from Sam, al right. Denny·d cal ed her an antisocial misfit. Half an hour in her company and Maggie was already wishing she was somewhere else.

Engines were less complicated and a lot easier to talk to than people. There was a wrong way and a right way with engines. No middle ground. No guessing. It either worked or it didn·t. If you gave it half an effort and fixed it, then it performed exactly th e way it should.

Not so with people. You could put in al the effort you wanted. You could try to fix the relationship and despite your best efforts it could al go sour.

Í·m guessing you don·t care much for Nick either?µ Maggie·s tone was decidedly cool n ow.

Oh, hell
. Ít·s not a case of
not
liking any of them. I don·t know them wel enough to honestly offer an informed opinion. Nick seems like a solid guy.µ Cold and emotionless was what she vaguely remembered from her vacations. Yeah, Spock fit him to a T. Although he
had
given her that brief hug yesterday when she·d walked into the Counting House with Logan, so maybe he wasn·t as cold and standoffish as she remembered.

Ńick knows who he is and who he·s not. Don·t let his frosty exterior fool you.

Like his brothers, he prizes family. He·s another man to have as a friend.µ Maggie touched Teal·s arm briefly. ´They·re good men, honey. Give them a chance. Give
yourself
a chance to see what a great guy Zane is.µ She rubbed her hand up and down Teal·s arm. Í want to run in and see if Ben·s taken his blood pressure meds.

Want to come in with me? I·l introduce you to the others.µ

´Thanks.µ Teal·s chest hurt with the pressure of not breaking down. Too bad she couldn·t have left herself behind in San Francisco w ith Denny. But no, wherever she went she had to take her social y inept self along like an anchor.

She was horrible at this. Awful and inadequate and interpersonal y awkward. Í stil feel a little pukey,µ she spoke evenly with effort. Í·d better stay out here for a while. Go ahead. I·l see you later. Thanks for the water.µ

´Put your cap back on,µ Maggie ordered after a moment of uncomfortable assessment, which made Teal extremely self-conscious and feel more miserably inept. ´Your skin·s so pale you·l fry.µ The older woman turned around and walked off, disappearing from view behind the rusted, ancient crane.

Teal would never know what her first look at Tortola would·ve been. Her eyes were fil ed with tears. She hated the Cutters for inviting her into par adise³a chance to fix what was wrong in her life. She hated herself for being weak enough to leap at their offer. Most of al , she hated being sil y enough to think being here would change anything.

They·d dropped anchor before dinner, and the s alon was quiet except for the occasional rustle of paper. The windows were open to the hot night air, bringing with it the smel of salt and the remnants of the BLTs Zane had thrown together for dinner. Sandwiches and the occasional barbecue were the extent of his culinary skil s. Fortunately, they·d al take turns cooking.

The ocean was as calm as a piece of glass, the blackness reflecting a mil ion pinpoints of light from the stars and the lights on board.

The glow of several lamps bathed the room in a homey warmth. The main public space was comfortably furnished with several worn brown leather sofas, a card table, overflowing bookcases, and a huge flat screen TV. Practical y every flat surface, including that of the breakfast bar separating the room from the gal ey, was currently covered with maps, papers, and books. Saul Redding, the magnetometer operator, was asleep with a book open on his chest. Everyone else was digging into every available source Zane had col ected over the last four years.

Śeen Teal?µ he asked the men, who were al engrossed in their reading as he passed through from the wheelhouse.

Ryan Beck glanced up from the copy of an old document he was reading with a large magnifying glass. Ńot since dinner.µ Despite his sun -bleached blond hair and the peeling nose of a surfer, he was a smart guy, one of Zane·s best divers, and a good friend.

Í think she went down to the engine room,µ Colson Clark, Maggie·s assistant, offered as he turned around on his chair in front of one of the computers on the long, built-in desk area.

The col ege student shoved his glasses up his nose.

Í·l start there.µ Of course she·d be in the engine room. It was ten o· clock at night. Where else would the woman be?

Zane shoved the engine room door open and stepped inside. The room was, as always, spotless. The engines were quiet and the generator hummed efficiently.

Teal sat on a blanket on the floor, her back against the bulkhead, her long legs stretched out, ankles crossed. She looked comfortable enough with several bed pil ows stuffed behind her back as she read a book on local fish. Since she wore ear buds, she clearly hadn·t heard him come in.

Zane did a double take. She wore a baggy, much washed T -shirt that read, GOT

DIESEL? in faded black letters. And boxer shorts. Yeah, they were baggy³but stil .

Shorts
. The room was hot, and the sheen of perspiration on her skin made it look ³touchable. Wil iams had pale, creamy legs a mile long.

Not fair.
Big time,
not fucking fair. He was a leg man first and foremost and the shock of seeing that his mechanic·s were prime, threw him for a momentary loop.

Holy shit! Who could·ve thought she was hiding
those
under those god-awful baggy khakis?

Zane dragged his gaze up and up and up. She·d showered, and her short dark hair was slicked back, combed off her face. The day outdoors had given her face a rosy glow, which made him notice the freckles across her pert nose. She looked «

girl next door sexy. The most insidious kind of sexy.

Oh, no you don·t,
Zane warned his libido as he felt an unwelcome, unexpected heat suffuse his body. Teal Wil iams, he reminded himself, unwil ingly noticing the way the wel -washed cotton of her baggy shirt molded over her smal , plump breast s, was not here for his sexual pleasure. She was here³at his insistence³because he
wasn·t
attracted to her.

Something to keep in mind when he saw her lick her lips as she read. God.

What a mouth. It was meant for things a guy dreamed about in the dark ho urs of night. Hel

« He walked up and tapped his foot against hers to get her attention.

Her gaze shot up to meet his. Pretty eyes, even if she was looking at him like something she·d scraped off her shoe.

´You didn·t stay for the meeting after dinner ³µ

Long, dark eyelashes swept up to highlight large, chocolate brown eyes. She frowned.

´What?µ

He gestured for her to remove the ear buds and when she did, said, ´You have a perfectly good queen-sized bed, Wil iams, why are you camped out on the floor?µ

Teal gave him a wide-eyed look. Ís it against your rules?µ

Í don·t have any rules.µ

´That·s what I thought.µ She replaced her ear buds and picked up her book again, resting it on her pale knees.

Concentrate, damn it.
No looking at her legs. He plucked the ear buds out with a little tug.

´You don·t need to babysit the engines. I promise you, they·l be here when you get up in the morning.µ

´Why aren·t we moving?µ she demanded, sounding cranky and out of sorts.

´Because we dropped anchor three hours ago.µ

She perked up. ´We·re back in port?µ

Ńo, Teal, we·re at B-seventeen.µ

She looked blank. ´B-seventeen?µ

Ćode name for the first dive site. Which you·d know if you hadn·t lit out of there before any of the rest of us had finished eating.µ

Ókay. And?µ

Ánd?µ

´What are you doing in here?µ

Ít·s my boat.µ

Ánd these are, according to your royal decree,
my
engines for the duration.µ

Í don·t expect you to work twenty-four seven.µ

Í·m not working.µ She held up her book.
Caribbean Marine Life
. Í·m reading.µ

Lord she was maddening. ´Did you have a chance to visit Sam before we left?µ A change of subject was in order. But when he saw the look on her face, he wished he·d chosen a better subject.

Ńo.µ She gripped the book so hard her knuckles turned white.

´You can go and see him any time you like. The speedboat wil get you there in an hour.µ

She gave him a stony look. ´Thanks.µ

´We al care about Sam and, by extension, you. He·s a great guy, family. I know his il ness must be real y hard on you.µ Sam Wil iams had terminal bone cancer, and probably had only months left. Hard to tel since the stubborn bastard refused to go to the hospital, and hadn·t seen his doctor in months.

Zane felt a serious twinge of conscience for strong-arming Teal into coming on this salvage.

She should be back on Cutter Cay, spending time with her father.

He was just about to tel her he·d have someone take her back when she said flatly, ´He refuses to have treatment, so I guess he·s okay with dying.µ Teal gave him an emotionless, dismissive glance.

´He sent a message that he was too tired to see me before we left. He didn·t ask if I was okay with him dying, and he doesn·t seem to want my opinion.µ She swal owed. Zane watched the movement of her throat as she somehow kept her cool. ´Fact is, I can·t change what·s going to happen. If he wants me to go see him, I·l see him. He·s got the number here.µ

Her voice was cold, but her big, brown eyes were haunted. A look Zane would·ve missed if he hadn·t been so intent on
not
looking at her braless breasts moving under her PJs.

Sam hadn·t
asked
her to stay. Zane almost groaned. Jesus. The apple hadn·t fal en far from the tree. Both Wil iamses were stubborn, antisocial, and fucking uncommunicative. He wondered if he should cal Sam in the morning, feel him out.

´What happened to your mother? Sam never talks about her.µ

The delicate skin around her eyes contracted. A tiny flinch? ´Why would he?

They were never married, and she died more than five years ago.µ

Teal would·ve been what? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? ´You weren·t close?µ

Zane couldn·t fathom how that could be the case. His mother had died a few months after his fifth birthday. He didn·t remember much more than her soft, sweet smel and warmth.

But he·d always known unequivocal y that she·d loved him. He·d adored his father, and loved his brothers unconditional y, and they him.

Given Teal·s strained relationship with her father, he·d hoped she and her mother, at least, had been close.

Teal tossed the book on the floor, then drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, and shrugged dismissively. Śhe had some problems and was gone a lot. Don·t get comfortable,µ she warned as he leaned against the bulkhead.