Page 24 of The Ampersand Effect

Good, Grier thought.Let her sweat.

“You’re not going to make this easy, I see.”

Grier held her ground silently. She didn’t need to beg for an explanation. The captain would answer—or she wouldn’t—and that would direct the remainder of the evening.

The captain swirled the remaining water in her glass, preparing her case. She set it gently on the table but maintained her grip on it, buoying herself. Slowly, she raised her eyes and found Grier’s. “I’m afraid.”

Grier’s breath caught in her chest. Those green eyes were roiling and sincere. Honesty was the best approach, but this was raw. The captain’s body emanated poise and confidence, yet the strain in her shoulders betrayed the anxiety beneath. This wasn’t the same woman Grier had met last week—the one who had flirted and then deflected. Her veneer was cracking, and Grier wanted to chisel away at it, gently, until she revealed the truth of spirit that lay beneath. She had to tread carefully.

“Can you be a little more specific?” she coaxed softly.

“My accident—the one that hurt my arm and back—also hurt my relationships.Relationship.” She corrected herself, then pressed on. “I haven’t dated seriously since.” The captain maintained eye contact, allowing Grier to search for the deeper truth in her words. “My career has its hazards. And the accident created a secondary victim of my partner at the time. She couldn’t handle the risk, so we separated. There’s still a lot of hurt. And the risk of creating another casualty of a relationship because of my career is… staggering.”

Grier searched the captain’s eyes. The honesty of the captain’s words hit her with a warmth that spread from her core to all of her limbs. She’d clearly been hurt, but more striking was her refusal to obscure the pain. Grier had to stop herself from reaching out, from offering the comfort of her hand. They weren’t there—yet.

“I’m… thank you. You didn’t have to be that honest, and I am genuinely sorry for what happened to you. And your relationship.” Grier dropped her gaze, the weight of everything she wanted to ask suddenly making her feel small.

“I didn’t tell you that for your pity,” the captain said quietly. “I told you because it’s the truth. Communication is the keystone of any relationship. You were boldly honest in our first meeting. I felt I owed you the same.”

Grier listened carefully, trying to gauge if there was more meaning behind her words. If they were going to trade in brutal honesty, she had to ask the one question gnawing at her.

“Are you still in love with your ex?”

Green eyes locked on hers, imploring her to believe the answer. “No.”

Grier exhaled.

“Relieved?” The corner of the captain’s mouth tilted into that maddeningly smug smile.

Grier tightened her posture, raising her head in confidence. Finally, she felt safe enough to banter again. “You can’t be surprised I’d want to know. Nor that I’m relieved. As you already pointed out, I was bold last week.” She drew a steadying breath. “I’ll be direct: I’m attracted to you. To your body, obviously. And I find that I’m quickly becoming attracted to the mind it houses. You carry yourself with a confidence most people probably assume is your nature. I see you for that—but I also read the tells your body is failing to cover. I’d like to see if you’ll lower that façade for me.”

“Candid,” the captain stated flatly, staring at her unashamed. “To a fault.”

Grier shifted, angling her body toward the captain as she rounded the table. She bent forward, brushing a cheek against Grier’s. The soft contact sent chills up Grier’s spine. Heat radiated from the captain’s chest, far too close and still with far too much clothing between them.

Hot, breathy words ghosted against her ear: “Give me your phone.”

Grier blinked. What? Did she miss something? Her phone?

Before she could ask, the captain drew back just enough—hips pressing into hers and instantly causing her to heat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t think we were done with the seduction yet, did you?”

Teasing. She was teasing her. This felt closer to torture.

Grier pressed her lips together, defiant, and dropped her phone into the captain’s hands—deliberately avoiding contact in the process. The captain held the phone up to Grier’s face to unlock it, found her Contacts app, created a new contact and then sent a text message. She handed the phone back, running the pad of her thumb along the sensitive inside of Grier’s wrist as they connected, causing Grier to become suddenly weak in the knees.

Grier looked at her phone and chuckled when she saw the text message the captain had sent to her own phone.

GRIER—7:32 p.m.

Hot Captain

The lights flickered, interrupting them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Aetheridge Children’s Hospital Annual Gala.” The MC’s voice boomed over the chatter. “If you would kindly make your way to your tables, dinner will begin shortly, and the awards will follow. Afterward, we invite you to stay for a night of celebration and dancing.”

“I guess I’ll see you later,” Grier said, a question hidden within. “Save a dance for me?” The captain asked, lacking her usual confidence.