Page 16 of Buck (Diver Downeast #2)

Buck rolled his eyes mockingly as he watched her head for her mooring where her little dinghy, the Wee Dream , bobbed. “Not efficient enough,” he countered. “It’d be just as likely to make me sick as it would to kill me. Then I’d insist that you be the one who nursed me back to health.”

“In your dreams,” she scoffed. “I’d dump you on your mother’s doorstep first. You’d be her problem, then.”

“I can see you haven’t really thought this out.” He stroked his chin, reflectively. “The two of you would end up bonding over a cup of tea, then you’d feel guilty for trying to kill me.”

The dark banter, if that’s what you could call it, ended abruptly.

“I’m not the one who should be feeling guilty,” Bobbie snapped sharply, then became all business.

She pointed to a boat hook that was strapped to the inside hull near his knees. “Use that and grab the mooring.”

Buck was happy to oblige. He quickly unfasted the pole, then leaned over the side and snagged the buoy that marked Bobbie’s spot. He grabbed it up with his hand and easily attached their bow line, letting the rigging splash back down into the water once the boat was secured.

“Done,” he told her as she turned off the engine. “You want some help buttoning her up?”

“You’re the one who came for the ride without an invitation. Do what you want,” she bit out.

Bobbie’s tear-down protocol was clearly on auto-pilot. She bustled about doing her thing and trying to ignore him, but on a thirty-foot craft, that was difficult. As they lashed things up and closed hatches, they kept bumping elbows, which—if Buck were honest—wasn’t exactly an accident.

“Cut the crap, Sothard,” Bobbie ultimately snapped at him when he brushed her shoulder with his for the third time. She faced him with both hands planted on her hips. “What, exactly, are you trying to accomplish here? Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”

Buck spread his arms; his hands, palm out toward her in supplication. “I just want a chance to talk. Dammit, Bobbie. We never had any closure over what happened fifteen years ago, and I need to remedy that.”

All this time later, Buck could still recall the hurt and devastation in Bobbie’s eyes as Chief Ildavorg had hauled him off, keeping Buck from approaching her.

Buck hadn’t been given a single opportunity to plead his case with his girl before he’d signed on the dotted line with the Coast Guard, and been sent off to sea.

“I had all the closure I needed,” she grunted at him, pocketing her keys and making for the starboard side.

Oh, hell no. He knew Bobbie would be in her dinghy in a second if he didn’t stop her, and he’d never be able to talk over the sound of the two-stroke outboard once they were underway, which was probably her intent.

He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, stopping her trajectory.

“One minute. Please,” he begged.

She stared down at his hand, and…

She didn’t pull back, but instead groaned and gave a full-body shiver.

Buck immediately let go and backed up in contrition.

“I’m sorry Bobbie. I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.

” Had he? “It’s just that… There are things that have been eating me up inside.

I need to get them out; tell you my side of the story.

We’re here. It’s quiet, and… Can’t we take this opportunity to clear the air? ”

Bobbie’s head didn’t come up, nor did she acknowledge what he’d said.

Instead, her thumb went to her wrist and traced over the spot he’d touched, moving slowly back and forth, almost mesmerizing him.

“Bobbie?” he asked, worried now.

When her eyes raised to meet his, the turbulence he saw there was almost too much for him to handle. His gut clenched. This was it. He’d blown it. She was going to?—

“I’m still attracted to you,” Bobbie spit out.

Buck reared back as if he’d been physically hit. “You…?”

Goddamn , that was not what he’d been expecting.

“I keep looking at you, and seeing you, and… I want to put my hands all over you,” she continued, sending a loud, frustrated cry out into the ether.

“I can’t seem to help myself. My body simply isn’t getting the message that you’re an asshole.

Everything inside me is screaming for me to kiss you, but…

How is that possible? I hate you so much.

This doesn’t make sense.” She wailed again, irately, putting her hands to her head and threading them into her bound hair as if she might pull it all out.

Buck swallowed carefully, not moving. He didn’t know what to do. He really didn’t.

In all his adult years, he’d never once faced anything like this. Hurricane-force winds at sea? No problem. Underwater explosives to disarm? A piece of cake.

Bobbie lusting after him? Completely outside his wheelhouse.

Should he rejoice that she wanted him, or should he rail at the fates because in total contrast to her libido, the woman of his dreams couldn’t stand the sight of him?

Total internal turmoil .

Buck wanted nothing more than to grab Bobbie up into his arms and kiss the hell out of her as she’d suggested. But in the end, what would that accomplish? He and Bobbie had always had incredible chemistry—even though they’d never had a chance to try anything out.

Would being physical with her now, help his case for a future together, or hurt it?

He longed with every cell in his body to taste her lips, but then what? Would they be able to stop at that? Alone here on her boat, they might just find themselves in her cuddy-cabin…where no talking would get done. And that wouldn’t play well in the end.

Bobbie, now that she’d said her piece, remained silent and kept her gaze intently on his, clearly waiting for him to make a decision for both of them since she’d put the ball in play.

Buck’s animal instincts screamed at him to take what Bobbie was offering.

His brain flashed “ No! Asshole! Danger! ” in big, red warning letters.

Fuck.

He needed to play this one very carefully.