by Rachel Grant
Bronze satin with a low bodice that—with the right bra—highlighted her usually scant cleavage, the gown had beadwork on the bodice and waist and a straight skirt that just revealed her toes peeking through low, beaded heels. The dress was the most elegant thing she owned, and she hoped Luke would think she did it justice.
As it was, if any portion of the party occurred on the upper or front deck of the ageing ferry, she’d freeze her tits off, even with the soft, faux-fur wrap. Evening wear was not meant for November in the Pacific Northwest.
Hair properly coiffed—tied in a simple twist at the nape of her neck—and makeup complete, she slipped on the gown and shoes, then took a deep breath and unlocked the door.
“Holy shit,” Luke said when she emerged from the bathroom. He was in the process of donning his shirt, and his hands fell slack as his eyes followed her. “I’ve always known you’re beautiful, but…damn. You’re stunning in that dress.”
She stopped before him, her heart melting into an indistinguishable lump as warmth spread from the no-longer-functioning organ outward. She smiled and twirled, so he could see the low back, and he caught her as she faced him again. “Stop. You’re blinding me.”
She laughed. “Thank you. I take it you approve.”
“I don’t know why you even considered going shopping with your mother when you had this in your arsenal.”
“Temporary insanity. But I ended up having a nice day with Mom. And it was so much fun to take her to a dive on Pioneer Square—”
He held up a hand. “I never, ever want to hear stories about you flirting with other guys when I’m not there to establish my claim.”
She shook her head and laughed. “I didn’t flirt.”
“You always flirt.”
“I used to. And I was really good at it. But strange thing was, I didn’t want to. At least, not without you there to stake your claim.” She stepped closer and put a hand on his chest. “But it was fun, going out with Mom. She’s been playing the role of Andre’s perfect companion for so long, it was nice to see her be…someone different. She drank beer. From a can. And she danced to live music that wasn’t played by an orchestra.” She pressed her lips to the base of his throat, smiling at the smear of lipstick she left behind. Staking her claim. “But I wished you’d been there. I want to dance with you. In a bar. I think…I want to go out on an actual date.”
His hand settled at the small of her back, and she leaned against him. “Doesn’t tonight count?”
“I suppose it does. But double-dating with my parents isn’t exactly what I have in mind.”
“Do you think…something is going on between your parents?”
She shrugged. “Before Andre came into the picture, I think they used to hook up when their paths crossed. They did love each other once, and that love never turned to hate. My mom was just lonely, and eventually the love faded.”
She met his gaze. “That’s what I’m afraid of, Luke. Trying to make long distance work but in the end feeling nothing but lonely. You’ve been through that, and I’ve seen it fail firsthand.”
“Sweetheart, you’re nothing like your mother, nor are you anything like my ex-girlfriend. I have no doubt in my mind we can make this work until I can get a transfer.”
“But what if you transfer to the DC area, and then we discover this…isn’t real? After all, our situation has been utterly unreal. What if the emotions stem from something that can’t be sustained in the day-to-day?”
“Then we’ll deal. But we won’t know unless we try.” He kissed her nose. “I need to finish getting ready.” His mouth dropped to her lips, and his tongue slipped between them for a deep, toe-curling kiss. He raised his head and smiled. “And you need to fix your lipstick. We’re supposed to be at the dock in twenty minutes.”
She left him to fix her makeup. She’d offered him an out, and he didn’t seize it. The knot of fear that had been building from the moment he offered to transfer to DC started to unravel. The last thing in the world she wanted was for Luke to make changes in his life for her, and then be unhappy. She would give him up before she’d be the cause of life-changing strife for him again.
“I think,” Undine said as Luke parked near the ferry terminal, “you should wear your dress uniform in the Men of NOAA calendar.”
“But then you can’t see my guns.”
“Yeah, but all I want to do when I see you in that uniform is open your fly and screw your brains out. Is it bad to have sex while in uniform?”
“All public displays of affection are out when I’m in uniform, but behind closed doors and off duty is a different story.”
“No public displays of affection tonight, then? Does that mean we can’t even dance?”
“This isn’t a duty uniform. Dancing is okay, but we’ll have to keep it PG,” he said as he climbed out of his SUV.
“I suppose that’s reasonable, as long as I can have my way with you when we get home.”
The idea of Undine straddling him and taking him deep while she still wore that gown gave him an instant hard-on. Damn, this party was going to be torture. Three hours. They’d only be on the boat for three hours.
The Gilligan’s Island theme song popped into his head. But they wouldn’t get lost on the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and in three hours, they’d be back at the dock. Then they’d return to the hotel, where they had a plethora of new surfaces to christen.
He planted his hand on the small of her back as they waited to cross the street to the terminal. A Seattle news satellite van pulled into the ferry lot, where it stopped as a bomb-sniffing dog was led around the van. By the time they’d crossed the intersection, the van was driving into the ferry tunnel, a reminder of how very public this party would be.
Three hours. He could handle three hours. Then the real celebration would begin. Yuri had been captured. The bomb had been retrieved. He would convince Undine they had what it took to make long distance work. He wouldn’t be satisfied with healing old wounds and closing the door on the past, and there was no way in hell he’d be content if she walked away. Now he only looked toward the future.
They entered the ferry terminal. Unlike the regular ferry crossing, all the guests, even the governor and the premier, were walk-on passengers. Only catering—and apparently news—vans would be loaded on the car deck. Metal detectors had been brought in to screen the passengers, which was unusual for this crossing. Border Patrol had required it of the Blackfish Line for this event.
Luke had requested and been granted permission to wear his service weapon, even though it wasn’t usually worn with the Dinner Dress Blue uniform. He left Undine’s side to be screened separately, by none other than Lt. Parker Reeves. “Don’t they ever give you a day off?” he asked the lieutenant.
“They wanted a few of us on board who were in the know…just in case.”
Luke glanced at the other uniformed Coast Guard officers, spotting Commander Martinez and Boatswain’s Mate Shales. “I’m glad for it,” he said. “It’s why I asked for permission to carry.”
Parker nodded. “The threat may be over, but we aren’t going to take chances.”
A large hand dropped onto Luke’s shoulder, and he turned to see Ray Ferguson. He startled at the sight of the always-casual tribal dive boat operator in a tux. “Man, they’ll let anyone attend these things,” Ray said.
Luke laughed. “I hear my date’s dad is some sort of VIP. How’d you make the cut?”
“Tribal VIP. I was the Makah liaison for the marine sanctuary where it abuts the reservation.”
Luke hadn’t noticed Ray’s name on the guest list, which had the hair on the back of his neck prickling, but he could hardly invent those credentials.
Undine cleared security and greeted Ray with a hug. Parker let out a low whistle at seeing her, causing Luke to drop an arm around her waist and pull her tightly to his side, completely disregarding all rules about public displays of affection while in uniform. “Mine,” he said with a grin.
“You’re a lucky
man, Sevick.” He winked at Undine. “If only you’d been able to dive with me that day…”
She rolled her eyes. “Right, as if my complete freak-out was the least bit appealing. But you’re sweet to pretend otherwise.” She took a deep breath. “My dad just called. He and Mom are already aboard, and they want us both pronto for an interview with KING 5. You ready?”
“Let’s get this over with,” Luke said.
Every part of Yuri hurt. A bullet in the chest was no small thing, but he was alive, so he wouldn’t complain. He’d asked the nurse the date and time, but she’d said nothing. He was handcuffed to the hospital bed, and from the tubes he saw coming out from under the covers, he gathered he’d had surgery.
He’d been shot, but what about the others?
The image of Ivan dropping, red sprouting on his forehead, came to him. Ivan was dead. What about Alexei?
He stared at the monitor he was attached to, trying to make sense of the numbers and lines. He needed to know the date. The time. But couldn’t quite place why.
The upper corner of the monitor said his name. Followed by numbers. The date? He stared at the screen, and it came to him. Today was the date he’d been waiting for. His sacrifice had paid off, and his reward had been granted against all odds. The party on the MV Chinook. The numbers next to the date also made sense. It was just after eight p.m. In less than thirty minutes, the real party would start.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Luke handed Undine a glass of champagne. They clinked glasses, then she took a sip. “The interviews weren’t so bad. I liked meeting the governor. I was surprised she could hold her own talking about the sanctuary.”
“She means it when she says taking care of Washington waters is a priority for her,” Luke said. “It’s why I voted for her.”
“I thought you’d only lived here for a year?”
“This was my home port when I did my three years of service on a ship. I spent a lot of time in Washington when I was a SEAL—we do a fair amount of training in these waters—and knew this was where I wanted to be stationed, so I made it my official address.”
She couldn’t help but flinch at that. He wasn’t in Washington by default. This was home for him. “Are your mom and brother still in California?”
“Mom’s in Oregon. She bought a house on the water in Astoria. Beautiful place. Ryan is in northern California, Eureka.”
“Also on the coast.”
“We Sevicks love the ocean.”
He was a West Coast man through and through. He might hate DC. In time, he’d resent her. She sipped her champagne. When had she turned into such a pessimist?
Her gaze landed on the governor, who was chatting with the premier of British Columbia and his wife along with the tech billionaire her father was eager to secure as a patron. She nodded toward the governor. “Do you think she knows about the Wrasse and Magnum?” She realized she’d taken to calling the Soviet sub by the name Yuri had given it.
“I expect she does, but her expression was convincingly blank when we were introduced. She’s got a good poker face.”
They stood near the back of the forward cabin. Rows of seats were bolted down, facing the front windows. The VIPs were in the open space at the front, where a table had been set up for the signing of the management plan when they reached the international border in the middle of the strait. The signing was more ceremonial than binding, but she appreciated the attention both governing bodies were giving to the Salish Sea and was thankful to the benefactor who’d put his support behind the action. As an underwater archaeologist whose first love was marine biology, she heartily approved all efforts made by governments to coordinate marine life protection and preservation.
She turned back to the side windows, looking west down the strait, toward Neah Bay. “I wonder if the full story of what the Wrasse submariners did will ever be able to come to light, or if it will be classified along with what happened yesterday.”
“Hard to guess,” Luke said.
“It makes me sad, the idea we might not be able to tell the world what those seven men did. Think about what they stopped—the Soviets might have succeeded in planting”—she glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot, but still she whispered—“that thing on the Seattle shoreline. And we have yet to find out if they did succeed elsewhere.” She took another sip of her champagne as she gazed out the window. They’d gotten lucky with the weather. It had rained earlier in the day, but the night was crisp and clear.
“They were going fifteen knots and were two hours into their sail when they dropped to periscope depth,” she said. “They hadn’t reached Sekiu yet. Too far from Neah Bay to have spotted Magnum already. I wonder why they dove?”
“A bunch of retired sailors who’d finagled a joyride in a sub that was so important to them, they’d traveled to Bremerton just to say good-bye to her? I bet you anything it was a lark,” Luke said. “Because they could.”
She nodded. Like Luke, she’d known enough sailors to recognize the ones who really loved the vessels. Sailors attached to their boats and subs in the same way pilots bonded to their aircraft. And he was right, the men who’d attached to Wrasse enough to want to say good-bye before SINKEX would have relished one last dive in the old girl.
She held up her champagne glass. “To the Wrasse seven. May the world someday learn of their sacrifice so they can be honored as heroes.”
Luke clinked his glass to hers. “To the Wrasse seven.”
They stood in silence, gazing out at the strait and sipping champagne. When her glass was empty, Luke said, “There’s dancing under the heat lamps on the upper deck. Will you dance with me?”
“You’re okay with missing the ceremony down here?” She nodded toward the table and press corps.
“Sweetheart, I’ve been to enough bullshit ceremonies to last me a lifetime. I’d much rather hold you in my arms in the moonlight, because that dress is amazing on you.”
She smiled. Dance in the moonlight at a black-tie event with the man she was crazy in love with? Yes, please.
On the upper deck, she wasn’t surprised to find her parents dancing cheek to cheek. She wouldn’t waste energy on the hope they were starting something that would last. She’d given up those fantasies when she was nine. But she did want both her parents to be happy in the same way she’d demanded her father wish happiness for her, and right this minute, her parents looked happy, which was frosting on a cinnamon roll as far as she was concerned.
Luke took her in his arms, and they swayed together to a classic jazz tune that had been new when MV Chinook first crossed the strait in 1959. She leaned against him and breathed in the scent of his aftershave mixed with the fresh sea breeze. Under the heat lamps and pressed against his body, she was plenty warm and never wanted the moment to end.
“I’m crazy in love with you,” Luke whispered, his lips brushing her ear.
She linked her fingers together behind his neck and met his gaze. “Cool,” she said.
He laughed.
She loved the way his face lit up when he laughed. The way he held her gaze when he made love to her. Even the way he dragged her on three-mile runs and paired bacon with Brussels sprouts, although that should be a bacon abomination.
She rose on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I don’t want you to move to DC.”
He stiffened against her, and his brow furrowed. “Can we please not discuss this now?”
“—because I think I should be the one to move.”
He stopped swaying to the music, but the hand on her back held her snug against him. “What?”
“I want to live here. With you. You already had your life and career upended because of me. If we’re going to make this work, it’s my turn to give up something for you.”
“What about your job?”
“There’s a fair amount of coordinating that needs to be done between UAB and the Olympic Coast National Marine Sanctuary. Between that and the Wrasse excavation, I cou
ld be busy for a while. And when that work runs out… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go back to school and get a master’s in marine conservation, or phycology.”
“You want a master’s degree in seaweed?”
“Okay, maybe fisheries biology. My point is, there’s lots I could study, and I have a feeling my dad would help out with a scholarship if I made a few appearances on his TV show.” She grinned at him. “If you appeared on the show, maybe he’d pay for my PhD.”
He laughed. “You’d pimp me out that way?”
“Hell yeah. If you go shirtless on TV, I can brag to everyone that those guns are mine.”
“I always thought you were more impressed with my ass.”
“A-plus all the way, but Dad’s sponsors probably don’t want you to drop trou on TV.”
He flashed his cocky smile. “Mistake on their part. My ass could sell a lot of product.”
She laughed. “It could. It really could.” She took a deep breath. “So. What do you think?”
“About you moving here or pimping me out?”
“The moving part.”
“Yes. I want—”
The engine noise grew louder as the boat slowed. They must have reached the international border. It was time for the ceremony. “Should we go down?” she asked.
His hand on her back cinched her tightly against him. “You aren’t getting out of this conversation that easy.”
“I don’t want you to leave Washington. And my dad’s in California. It makes more sense—”
A boom from a lower deck halted her speech. Undine slammed into the couple next to them as the boat lurched starboard. A second boom and they rolled to port. The boat rocked so hard, a man by the rail nearly fell overboard.
She gripped Luke’s wrist as she tried to stay on her feet. She glanced around the crowded upper deck, almost expecting the boat to disintegrate under her feet.
They were in the middle of the strait—forty-five minutes from shore in either direction. All at once, there was another boom, this one muted compared to the first. The boat rocked, but not as much. The loud hum of the ferry engine cut out.
