by Scotty Cade
Jack shook his head to try and clear his mind. He forced himself to focus on the charts and finally charted their course from the coordinates Dax had given him. First thing in the morning, he would plug the coordinates into the Global Satellite Positioning, or GPS, computer, and that in turn would allow the autopilot to track the course without the need of paper charts. Enough for one day, he thought. He pushed away from his little desk and turned off his desk lamp. He undressed, hit the head, and then climbed into his bunk. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He started to think about Dona in the cabin next door. He pictured her tall, graceful frame slowly undressing and sliding into bed. His dick started to take notice of his fantasy. He reached over to the nightstand drawer and removed a small bottle of lotion. This will do the trick, he thought as he squeezed the smooth liquid into his hand and started rubbing his already-hard cock. He pictured Dona lying next to him and kissing every inch of his body from head to toe. He then pictured her straddling him and lowering herself onto him. He gasped when his cock entered her smooth, velvety tunnel. As she rode him, in his mind, his hand moved faster and faster. He felt that all-too-familiar release about to explode as his balls drew up inside him. As the first shot of his warm load landed on his chest, he closed his eyes and, much to his dismay, it wasn’t Dona’s face he saw, but Dax’s.
“What the fuck,” he whispered. He didn’t even acknowledge the second and third shots as they hit his chest. “Now the guy is tormenting me in my fantasies.”
FIRST light came, with the crew chomping at the bit to get started. Jack, in a piss-poor mood with not much sleep, had hit the bridge at five o’clock that morning to check the weather report and program the GPS. Still preoccupied with the previous night’s fantasy cluster-fuck, he fired up his engines as the rest of the crew tended to the lines and fenders. He sounded two whistle blows to signal their departure as he maneuvered the boat away from the dock. Everyone was so excited and preoccupied with their assigned jobs that no one noticed the man sitting in the black Mercedes sedan with binoculars, studying them as they made their way out of port.
The Lindsey C’s dark hull smoothly parted the waters of the Lynn Canal while Jack started to prepare his search grid. Damn if I’m going to look like an amateur to Dax. After all, I was captaining a boat when he was just starting to wear Pull-Ups. Well, probably not. I’m thirty-six, and he doesn’t appear to be much older than twenty-nine or thirty. Then the thought of Dax in Pull-Ups made him smile.
Dax was about to enter the bridge when he stopped short in his tracks. Jack was sitting in his captain’s seat, fiddling with the GPS unit and wearing the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen on a man’s face. It took everything he had not to walk up behind him, throw his arms around Jack’s waist, and hold on for dear life. But Dax knew he had to keep his distance and keep Jack hating him, or he’d never survive this expedition. The minute Jack warmed up to him, he’d be a goner. Dax stood up straight, wiped the smile off of his face, and walked onto the bridge.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked.
Startled out of his thoughts, Jack looked at Dax, blushed, and said, “You really don’t want to know.”
“Try me,” Dax replied.
“Nah, I think I’ll pass,” Jack said. “But thanks for asking.”
“Suit yourself,” Dax said. “Are you through with the grid?”
“I’ve got our first few days completed, based on your coordinates, and will have a fifty-mile block finished by the end of the day tomorrow.”
“Jack, I need those by the end of the day,” Dax said.
Jack took a deep breath, about to give Dax a piece of his mind, but before he could speak, Dax said, “Now, can this tub go any faster?”
Jack felt the heat rise up into his face. “Why, you little prick,” he said. “Let me remind you that this is my boat and I’m the captain. I don’t care how you ran your boat, but on my boat, I set the speed and I decide when we move and when we stop. Got it? Now get off my bridge,” he said, with an emphasis on “my.”
“Well, aren’t you an arrogant piece of shit?” Dax snapped. “Who do you think is paying for this charter?”
“Certainly not you,” Jack barked back. “Unless, of course, you’re paying in insults, because otherwise I haven’t seen a dime from you.” Jack paused and held his breath for a second to calm down, and then he continued. “Every dime spent to get this boat ready has come from me. Sure, we have a contract, but based on your recent fuck-up, it may not be worth the paper it’s written on. Now what part of get off my bridge did you not understand?”
For a second Jack thought he recognized a hurt look on Dax’s face. But just as quickly as the look came, it disappeared, leaving nothing but anger in his hazel-colored eyes.
Dax turned to leave the bridge, stopped, and looked back. “You’ll get your money, Jack. By God, if it kills me, you’ll get your fucking money.”
They reached the strike zone, and Jack idled the engines while Dona and Dax, with the help of Mac and Brad, carefully lowered the sonar equipment into the water. Dona had spent the time underway in the crew berth, setting up the sonar receiver and the receiver for the Hunter II, which was the unmanned remotely operated vehicle (ROV), which would transmit pictures from below the surface should they need to investigate a particular site. Earlier that morning she’d wired the bridge directly to the crew berth so they could communicate privately, without broadcasting highly classified information over a two-way radio.
With the sonar equipment safely underwater, she made her way down to the crew berth to join Dax. She flipped on the radio and pressed the transmit button.
“Base to bridge, Jack do you read?”
“Loud and clear, Dona,” Jack responded.
“Perfect,” she said. “Sonar is loaded and ready to go.”
“Roger that,” Jack said as he put the boat in gear.
The Lindsey C began to slowly inch forward.
“What speed would you like to maintain?” Jack asked.
“Let’s try and keep her between five to seven knots, and see how it goes.”
“Roger that.”
Jack engaged the autopilot and sat back to see how his boat responded to his charted course. The first few turns were fairly quick and tight because of the sheer confinements of the grid, but the maneuvers got wider with each pass, and things quickly evened out. In a very short time, the Lindsey C was steadily creeping along, approaching each waypoint, then changing course and heading to the next. If Dona or Dax saw anything interesting on the sonar, they would radio the bridge to idle the engines, get the exact coordinates, and do a print screen of the computer monitor to record the coordinates and proceed again.
As Dax and Dona sat in the dark quiet of the crew cabin with only the glow from the computer screens, Dax used his time to decide how to divide the crew into shifts. He’d not seen Jack since he’d stormed off the bridge that morning and knew Jack was doing his best to avoid him. He normally didn’t care if he was disliked, and was especially happy when people avoided him, but Jack avoiding him, although he knew it was probably for the best, really rubbed him the wrong way. If he thinks he can avoid me, I’ll show him.
Dax assigned Dona and Mac shift one, which left him and Jack to share the second shift. This’ll really piss him off, Dax thought. Since Brad had little to do besides his crew chores until they actually started diving, Dax assigned him the job of floating between base and the bridge, checking on Mac and Dona and getting them anything they might need. Everyone would work four hours on and four hours off. That’ll give me four hours to torment Jack into really hating me. And that thought saddened him, but he knew it was for the best.
When Mac took a copy of the shift schedule to the bridge, he knew it would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. And he was right; Jack was as pissed off as Mac had ever seen him. “That son of a bitch is determined to taunt me, day in and day out,” Jack yelled. “But not anymore. Take the helm, Mac.”
I
n a huff, Jack stormed off the bridge on a direct route to home base. He turned the corner into the crew berth and ran smack into Brad, who was on his way out of the small space. Brad saw the look in Jack’s eyes, and having seen that look a time or two in his day, knew what it meant and got out of his way. Dax and Dona were staring at the computer monitor. Dax looked up with a slight grin on his face, and said, “Hey, Jack.”
Dax studied Jack, standing in the companionway door and looking as good as any man ever had. His hands were at his sides, clenched tightly into fists, and his face was as red as a Coca-Cola can. Sexy as hell.
“Don’t hey, Jack me, you son of a bitch. I’ve taken just about enough of your bullshit on my boat as I’m gonna take. Who the hell do you think you are?”
Dax continued to stare at Jack in the doorway. Damn, he looks hot when he’s angry.
“What’s blown up your skirt, Jack?” he asked in a very calm voice, all the while still grinning.
“Don’t act innocent with me, you arrogant piece of shit. You know what’s blown up my skirt, as you call it. Lots of things have blown up my skirt since you boarded my boat, but why in the hell would you schedule us to work together when it’s pretty obvious we hate each other?”
“Why, Jack, I don’t hate you, and I’m deeply crushed to learn that you hate me. What have I ever done to you?”
“For starters, you’ve done nothing but taunt and disrespect me on my own boat since you first stepped out of the taxi at the dock. You wouldn’t speak to me. You wouldn’t have shaken my hand if Dona hadn’t broken a rib to make you do it. And you try to tell me what to do at every turn. You’re a socially inept ass is what you are, Dax,” Jack continued.
That statement confirmed Dax’s fears that Jack had taken his stunned silence and inability to move as an arrogant gesture instead of realizing it was because he was so intimidated by his good looks.
He snapped out of his thoughts when Jack slammed his fist into the cabin door.
“The way I see it,” he said, “you have a pretty shitty way of treating someone you can’t do without.”
That did it. Dax didn’t care how hot Jack was, he had just crossed the line. He jumped up and stood chest to chest with Jack. Jack’s eyes widened, but he held his ground.
“You think we can’t do this without you, Captain Jackson P. Cameron?” Dax asked.
“Damn straight,” Jack shot back.
“Then you’re delusional,” Dax yelled. “I don’t need you or this two-bit bathtub. And by the way, does the P in your name stand for ‘prick’?”
Suddenly everything went into slow motion. He saw Jack slowly draw his fist back and heard the slurred words, “W-h-y y-o-u s-o-r-r-y p-i-e-c-e o-f….” Something came over Dax, and at that moment, all he saw were Jack’s crystal-blue eyes shining with anger; his shoulders, broad and strong; and that fist, that beautiful fist coming right at his face. He fought the urge, tooth and nail, but surprised even himself when he leaned in and cupped Jack on the back of the neck to draw him in as he crushed his lips against Jack’s. Brad’s eyes widened, and silence filled the tiny cabin.
Dona slammed her fist on the table and yelled, “Enough! Get a grip, you two.”
Dax broke the kiss and stepped away from Jack. Jack, stunned, dropped his fist down to his side. He wiped his red, swollen lips, and all he could think to say was “Peyton, my middle name is Peyton.” But other than that, he was at a total loss.
Dona continued. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we’ve all had just about enough of your lovers’ quarrels. You boys either act on your high-school man crushes or get the fuck over them. I don’t care who has the biggest dick, but we’re going to finish this expedition in one piece, and you’re gonna damn well like it.”
“Lovers’ quarrels? Man crushes?” Jack screamed. “What are you talking about—we’re not even gay.”
A small curve developed on Dax’s lips. “Speak for yourself, Captain. I thought everyone knew I was gay.”
Jack turned around and looked at Brad, who was standing outside the cabin door with a grin on his face. Brad nodded, and Jack looked hurt and defeated. He looked at Dona, then Dax, and turned and walked out of the cabin.
“I think that went better than planned,” Dax said with a chuckle.
“Dax, you shouldn’t have kissed him. If he ends this expedition, we’re screwed. You get your shit together and figure out a way to make nice with Jack, and get him to change his mind, because despite what you think, we do need him and his boat.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dax said with a military salute.
JACK stood in the hallway for a few seconds, trying to absorb what had just happened. Dax is gay, and Brad and Mac didn’t think it was important enough to tell me. The guy just kissed me right in front of everyone. Who does he think he is?
He turned around and walked right back into the cabin. He looked at Dona and said, in a very even, calm voice, “I think this was a mistake. I’ll absorb the expenses thus far, and I’ll chalk it up to a learning experience.” He rubbed his still-swollen lips again and looked at Dax. “A real learning experience. I’ll get you guys back to the dock at first light.”
“Jack, don’t make any rash decisions,” Dona gently pleaded. “Dax and I have our hearts and souls tied up in this expedition, not to mention we all have money invested. We are so close, I can feel it.”
Dax and Brad stood motionless, not knowing what to say or do. Jack looked around the room, at Dax and Dona and then at Brad.
“All this drama,” Jack said as he lifted his hands and gestured to them all, “is not worth it to me. Dax and I are who we are, probably more alike than I care to admit, but that’s certainly not going to change. And… my friends, I guess I’m a joke to them.”
Brad opened his mouth, but Jack put his hand up to stop him. “I don’t want to hear it. I hope you’ve all enjoyed your fun at my expense, but it stops here.”
JACK sheepishly made his way topside, with Brad on his heels. When he reached the bridge, Mac saw the expression on Jack’s face and looked at Brad.
“What did I miss?” he whispered to Brad.
Jack took the captain’s chair next to Mac, and Brad moved over and stood next to Mac’s seat.
“The jig is up,” Jack said to Mac.
“What do you mean, the jig is up?” Mac asked.
“The fact that neither of you found the need to tell me that Dax was gay,” he said.
Mac looked over at Brad and grinned.
Jack continued, “How was that little tidbit of information overlooked in that novel of a story you told me over the phone when I asked if you’d ever heard of Dax Powers?”
“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Mac responded. “I know how you feel about gay people.”
“Come on, man, not that again. Damn it, guys! Are we ever going to get past this?” Jack asked. “Yes, I made a mistake, and yes, you guys almost lost each other over my mistake, but I’ve apologized for it over and over again. What more can I do?”
“There’s nothing you can do, Jack.” Mac looked at Brad then back to Jack. “What happened down there anyway?”
“Well,” Jack said, “one minute I was giving Dax a piece of my mind, then the next, he was kissing me.”
Mac’s face morphed into a grin, and he looked at Brad. Brad nodded in agreement, and they both high-fived.
“What are you two high-fiving about?” Jack asked. “Is that why you didn’t tell me Dax was gay? Are you trying to convert me?”
Mac took the lead. “Very funny, Jack. We can’t convert anyone who isn’t remotely interested, but really, what does it matter if Dax is gay or not?”
“If it didn’t matter, why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Because we thought that, if you knew, you might not take the charter,” Mac said. “And we’ve been waiting for you to come out of the closet on your own and thought this might help.”
“Oh,” Jack said. Then Mac’s words registered. “What?” he yelled.
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“Think about it, Jack. One very short marriage many years ago. No lasting relationships. Hell, you haven’t even had a date in years, not to mention that fact that you’re so homophobic.”
“What, now you think I’m homophobic?” Jack asked.
Brad jumped in this time. “We’ve always thought that, Jack. You remember how you reacted when you found out Mac and I were involved. Do you not remember the fight in our living room? Demanding to be flown back to Anchorage, making Mac choose between me and his family? Come on, Jack, your memory’s not that bad.”
For the second time that day, Jack looked totally defeated. “I remember everything,” he said. “I was just scared, I guess.”
“Look,” Mac said. “It happens to the best of us.” Mac reached over and grabbed Brad’s hand. “Brad and I didn’t plan on falling in love. In fact, it was the last thing either of us expected. He was still struggling with Jeff’s death, and I was a straight man, still mourning the loss of my wife six years after her death, but it happened. Luckily, we were able to recognize the love that grew between us and allow ourselves to be happy. And to tell you the truth, I’ve never looked back. I loved Lindsey with all my heart, but Lindsey’s gone, and that relationship died when we buried her. Do you remember how hard it was for me?”
Jack nodded in agreement.
“But now, I love Brad, and we’ve made a damn good life for ourselves. I didn’t think I was gay, and I’d never even looked at a man in a sexual way, but the heart wants what it wants, Jack. Just think about what I’ve said, and don’t worry about labels right now.”
“Did the kiss gross you out?” Brad asked.
“Yes! No! I don’t know,” Jack replied with a very confused look. “Why are we even having this conversation?” he asked. “I’m not gay.”
