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He turned back to Marlena, and the boat rocked more than he had intended it to. “Sorry, total accident. I swear.”
She elbowed him, making the little boat move, and her queasy look surfaced again. “I’ll pay you every dime I have if you get me off this awful raft.”
“It’s a boat.”
“Boat. Whatever.” Something jumped out of the water and snagged one of the baseball-sized mosquitoes. “Crap. Just get me home.”
“Where’s home?”
She sighed. “Nowhere, anymore.”
That sounded familiar. “I get that.”
Brock barked into his earpiece, “Air support’s early for your rendezvous. Be at that dock in fifteen minutes, and keep your eyes up.”
“Roger that.” Trace glanced at Roman and Ryder then at Marlena. “Looks like you might owe me every dime you’ve ever made.”
Ryder and Roman picked up oars, and Trace surveyed the horizon for anyone who seemed interested in their downriver push. Every time he darted from bank to bank, upstream and down, he stole a glance at her.
They skimmed through the water. Marlena sighed, relief on her face, and then she caught him staring. She wiped her expression clean, replacing it with an almost laughable calm. It couldn’t have been more fake, and he couldn’t have wanted to kiss her any more than he did that second.
The dock came into view as a chopper began its descent. Marlena leaned into his arm. “Instead of tossing you every dime I’ve ever made, how about you let me make up that shower I missed out on?”
Roman kicked him in the back. “It pays to be a winner.”
Hooyah to that.