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“Deal.” They’ll regret asking, probably fall asleep as I drone on and on. My students certainly do from time to time. “And you don’t need a list. All we have is crabs. Get everything else.” I shrug.

“You got it. Until then, you two lovebirds can work out your issues.” Thompson grins.

Lovebirds.

The word sends a little thrill through me until I catch Dean’s glacial stare. That muscle in his forehead working overtime.

That kiss? Had to be pure acting.

A distraction.

A long sigh pulls from my chest, and I roll my eyes skyward.

No more kissing.

CHAPTER

FOURTEEN

DEAN

“Lovebirds? In his dreams,”she retorts.

June throws my men a self-satisfied smile, like a cat who’s gotten the cream and the canary. But a blush blooms on her cheeks, and I bite back a grin of my own.

Thorne and Thompson laugh quietly, sharing an amused glance. I still can’t quite bring myself to believe how quickly June managed to turn the tables on me.

“She’s sure got your number, Evans. We’ll rendezvous with supplies at the drop point.” Thorne pauses, eyebrows rising. “Once you find out what that is, of course. Here’s your sat phone, try not to blow it up this time.” He lobs the black satellite phone, and I catch it one handed before clipping it onto a beltloop.

June grins, her eyelashes batting, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Oof, Evans, I can stay here if you’d rather go into port.” Thompson claps his hands over his chest, as though he’s been struck.

My chest tightens, and I swallow against the sudden envy, counting down from ten on reflex.

“Easy, boss. We’ll be back. Just send us the coordinates.” Thorne shifts, taking up the wheel, shooting me a warning look. I must look as pissed as I feel.

Thompson, however, grins like a shark, unwrapping the ties from the boat cleats and shoving off.

Employees, she pegged that one right.

Insubordinate employees.

She’s even smarter than I imagined, much quicker on the uptake than the DEA analysts gave her credit for in the sparse bio. A bio I must’ve done a shit job reading, considering her shipwreck hunt—no, obsession—hadn’t even registered.

But how did she miss her dad’s involvement with the smugglers?

“Hmmph.” The innocuous noise speaks volumes.

Smugness rolls from her skin.

I don’t need to look down to see June’s self-satisfied expression.

She might’ve won this battle, but she won’t win the war.

The thought tugs at me. Everything with my ex—with Fiona—was a constant battle. Especially when I found out she was under deep cover. Nothing more than a honey trap. A high-value target, that’s what the government pulling her strings told her I was, and she played her part well.

My stomach turns, and I close my eyes.