Page 32

Chapter 32

The Tide Waits for No One.

Sam

Calvin kisses her nose, then her cheek and ear. It’s a big contrast to what he just did to her. I’m hard again already, and I almost came from watching her. I couldn’t keep my hands off my cock. I wanted to touch her too. But there was something about the way they moved around her. They’re comfortable and practiced. It’s how Dante skimmed his hand down her chest to her core, triggering her like the firework display in Hong Kong on New Year’s Eve. The way Zane ran his finger over her lips... It’s a lot.

Damn. I’m learning about myself. Things I had no idea I... I like. Or might like. Or don’t hate. I’ve always been in charge when it comes to sex. I’m not one to be ordered around. This was different. Dante might think he’s the conductor, Calvin the boss, Easton the maestro, and Zane the caregiver—but Haley’s in charge. When she raises her chin, the four of them move around us like points on a compass. They stay out of the way. This isn’t about them, this is about what I could have with her, what I want with her. I’m in it this far. I’m ready to take it all the way.

My chest expands, and they blur into the background. The only thing I see now is her loose blond hair hanging over her dark red nipples. She’s an angel with the sunset glowing from the window behind her.

All my euphoria slips away. “The tide!” I’m about to jump to my feet?—

“Fuck.” Calvin sprints out the sliding door to the back sun deck, his white ass flashing by us, the rest of the guys zipping out of the salon too.

I resist every ounce of training I’ve ever had, and I hold Haley’s arms, keeping her from moving. I peck her on the cheek. The reality of it is that whatever has happened to the tender has already happened. Our moment is over, the bubble of intimacy in the room gone. And I’m the one who destroyed it. Fuck.

Her eyes flick to the sundeck and back to me. She wants to go too.

“Later.” I growl out the promise and let go of her arms, a light red imprint of where my hands were vanishing from her skin.

She nods. “Yes.”

I’m out the back door. I race across the sundeck and down the back stairs to the swim platform. The damn reef is peeking through the water, the white sharp teeth of the sun-bleached tops protruding out. Calvin’s in the water. Zane’s already hauling the motor on board. Easton and Dante hold the lines.

Calvin swims next to the reef. The Rock Candy made its way through the opening. In normal operations, I’d stay back, let the crew do what they needed to do. But this isn’t normal. It’s four mostly naked males yanking on the thing we need the most. It’s the lifeline we have between here and the beach. The yacht has a lot of fresh water, but not enough for us to stay on board for as long as it will take to get the engines running again.

Calvin bursts up through the water. “One small hole. But you can lift it without risking ripping it anymore. Damn.” He pushes himself up onto the side of the platform.

He really is one of the smartest sailors I’ve ever met. The natural inclination would be to pull the tender right onto the swim platform, but that could have split it down the middle. My eyes flash to the gash on the side of Calvin’s foot.

“It’s nothing.” He takes the corner of the tender from where Easton’s holding the rope.

Zane’s back from putting the motor in the toy hauler room. We pull the raft onto the platform.

“Flip it toward me,” Calvin barks. It smacks the deck, and water pours out from the ropes around our feet, a trail of red circling Calvin. “Here.” He points to a small tear in the plastic.

Dante tosses Zane a drying rag.

Zane runs his fingers over the rip. “I can fix that. But I’ll want it to dry for at least twelve hours before we put it back in the water. The glue says two, but it’s not like we can run to port and get endless patches if it fails.”

“Agreed.” I frown at the tender. My gut tightens. This could have been a hell of a lot worse.

“Not your fault, Sam,” Easton says. His shoulders are next to mine.

“We all need to be more vigilant. The simplest mistake could hurt any one of us.”

Penny barks from where Haley is holding on to her collar on the sundeck at the top of the stairs.

“Let’s move it all the way to the toy hauler shed. We’re going to have to stay on board overnight.” Calvin bends and takes the bumper rope in his hand.

“Go sit down. I can move a damn boat—and put your damn foot up. I want to take a look at it.” Easton takes the rope from Calvin, who limps over to the deck chair at the edge of the toy hauler garage. We move the tender, giving Haley a view of the red-tinted ocean water spreading over the platform.

“What the heck?” She takes the stairs two at a time, Penny flying along on her heels. “Calvin!”

“I’m fine.” He’s pressing a drying rag to his foot, which is no longer white. “Or I will be. It’s just a little cut.”

“Let me see. Feet can be so dramatic.” Dante crouches next to Calvin. “Oh, damn.”

I glance to where Haley was, but she’s gone.

“Back away from him, Chef.” Easton has two towels in his hand. He squats next to Dante, the towel spread over his legs.

“It’s not that bad. Seriously, I’m fine. I just need a Band-Aid or something. It doesn’t even hurt. Stings, but it doesn’t hurt.”

Easton makes a face I’ve seen his father make many times over the last five seasons. It’s the I’m-not-happy-with-what-you’re-telling-me face. “Fine, if that’s all you need, I’ll put one on. Let’s get it cleaned up, though.”

Calvin picks up the cloth. My stomach lurches, and I’m not squeamish. The cut on Calvin’s foot is larger than the one on the tender. And deep. This is not butterfly bandage material.

Haley’s back down the stairs, Penny with her. “Here’s the big first-aid kit.” She glances at Calvin, stepping closer. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

There’s a slight flinch when Haley looks at Calvin’s foot. Less reaction than I had. “What do you need, Easton?”

“Are there needles and sutures in there? And to not be drunk. But if he is that will help some.”

“Listen, Rockwell, I’m good.”

“Not yet, you aren’t.” Calvin might be drunk, but he’s far from good. I turn to Easton. “You’ve given stitches before?”

“I was a sports medicine major in college. Mostly to piss Rocky off that I wasn’t going into either of the family businesses. But yeah. I had to do a rotation in an ER and at a bunch of road races, marathons. I’ve done it enough. Nothing as deep as this, though. You?”

“I’ve stitched up a few cuts, but the same. Sounds like you have more experience than me. You want to move him up top so we can get him lying down?”

Easton nods.

“I’m right the fuck here. And I can fucking hop up the stairs. So you can stop talking about me like I’m a damn toddler.”

Dante laughs. “I was going to go get him some whiskey for the pain, but I think that’s taken care of. Stand up, Viking. Put your arm around my shoulder and I’ll help you peg leg over to the stairs.”

Calvin stands and follows Dante’s directions. I don’t know which I find more surprising: Dante barking orders or Calvin following them. There’s a lot I don’t know about them. Fuck. There’s a lot I don’t know about myself yet too.

There’s a trail of red as Calvin clings to Dante on the way to the stairs. Then he grips the banister tightly enough that his fingers whiten as he hops up each step.

Penny tries to stay at Calvin’s side, but I pull her back. Haley’s got her hands full with the large medical kit. And she’s the only one clothed.

“You guys have him. I’m going to work on the tender, flush the motor, and then do the patch.” Zane’s already wiping down the swim platform.

I nod to him and follow them up the stairs, holding Penny back.

When we’re on the top step, Penny pulls out of my hand and rushes to Calvin. He’s sitting on a chair next to the lounger, while Dante’s pulling the cover off the other loungers.

“How can I help?” Haley asks Easton.

They’re all moving around each other like a player who has studied the playbook for the last three months and is finally on the field. I was the coach, but I don’t know what I am now.

“You want to flush it with sterile water, or are you going to use the alcohol wipes?” Dante’s leaning on the grill.

“Yeah, I know we want to save supplies.” Easton turns his back to Calvin. He lowers his voice. He might even think he’s whispering, but he’s far from it. “But this is the sort of thing we are saving the supplies for.”

Calvin lifts the towel Easton had been pressing against the wound. “It’s not that... whoa.” He wobbles. But I’ve seen big guys go down before. Granted, not as big as Calvin. I push myself to his side, pinning him to the chair.

“Let’s get you over to the lounger, Calvin.” Easton’s got Calvin’s other side.

“Nope, I’ll get blood on it. The owner won’t like it.”

“I am the damn owner. Move your large white ass over there.”

Adrenaline and alcohol are battling for Calvin’s brain, turning him into a toddler the size of a small Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon.

Haley puts the kit on the chair next to Calvin and drops to a crouch in front of him. She runs her hand up the side of his thigh. “Calvin, honey, can you please do what Easton is asking? He wants to help you.”

“Okay.” He smiles and cocks his head to the side as Haley pets his head like a giant golden retriever.

And we all take a deep breath.