6. Indiana
The sun was dipping into the western horizon when Tyler emerged from the hut again. He looked refreshed, like he’d woken from a deep sleep. That was a surprise. The few people I’d had on my boat all got seasick. Rhino was like a brick on the ocean, and once she started to roll, there was no stopping her until we dropped anchor.
“How we going, captain?” He swept his hand through his thick black hair, and it swooped back into place.
“Fine.”
“How much longer?” He wore tan shorts and a plain white T-shirt, and even though he’d changed out of his fancy suit, he still looked like he was ready for the catwalk.
“An hour, maybe two,” I said.
He nodded. “Want me to do anything?”
He probably had no idea what it meant to truly get his hands dirty. That T-shirt was not going to look as crisp as it did come this time tomorrow. Might as well get him to work. It wasn’t every day we had an extra pair of hands on Rhino. “Can you cook?”
“I’m no master chef, but I can whip up most things.”
“Good, there are fish fingers in the freezer. Just pop them in the microwave.”
He groaned.
“You should see your face.” I chuckled. “Fish fingers not good enough for you, huh?”
“I’ve eaten my share of them.” He scrunched his nose.
Silence beat between us. Whatever he was thinking, he wasn’t enjoying it.
I cleared my throat.
“Well, lucky for you, I’m just yanking your chain. Dad caught a couple of fish while you were napping. You can give him a hand if you want.” I pointed out the front windshield. “He’s at the bow.”
Darkness shrouded Tyler’s expression as he turned and walked away.
Jeez. What’s his problem?
Tyler’s approach to Dad was met with a scowl that would have most men back-peddling, and for some reason, I felt sorry for him. I had no idea why. I had a long history with cops, and I hadn’t met one yet who gave a damn about anyone but themselves.
Tyler looked into the bucket at Dad’s feet, and after a brief conversation between them that I couldn’t hear, Tyler carried the bucket to the filleting station.
He removed his shirt and hung it over a railing. Well, hello. Somebody worked out. He was hiding a few decent ab muscles beneath his fancy clothes.
To my surprise, he plucked a fish from the bucket, and without any hesitation, he scaled and gutted the snapper. Officer Fancy Pants didn’t seem to mind getting grubby after all. As he placed it into the chum bucket, he scanned the ocean around us. His mirrored glasses hid his eyes, but his rigid jaw showed me just how seriously he took his protection duties.
I had no idea what all the fuss was about. Chui’s multi-million-dollar yacht sank months ago, and since then, about a dozen legit investigators have scoured the wreck. I’d heard a couple of illegal divers had tried to search that yacht, too. Whatever was on there was either gone, or it wasn’t there in the first place.
Maybe I should search that wreck before I bring it up to the surface. After all, they weren’t paying me for this fucking salvage job. Running Rhino cost more money than we earned most months, and salvage job opportunities were as unpredictable as cyclone season. I couldn’t even afford to pay the two crew members who I had on call for the big salvage operations, and both of them now had full-time work on other boats.
Maybe the sunken yacht still had some of those gold bars onboard that Chui stole. Or the drugs he was trafficking. Or some silver cutlery. We could do with some new teaspoons in our kitchen.
Curiosity must have gotten the better of Dad because when Tyler was onto his third fish, Dad joined him. Working side by side, they filleted another six fish.
It was strange to see them working together like that.
Dad hated cops as much as I did. And for good reason. He also hated strangers being on Rhino. This boat was his sacred place. It was where he’d proposed to the love of his life and where Mom had died in his arms. Rhino was his life now, and he was wary of who stepped onto her weathered deck.
As the minutes bled into each other, and the sun sank below the horizon, casting us in a twilight world of muted colors, the pair of them worked together, first preparing the fish for dinner and then untangling a massive length of rope that we’d been meaning to sort out months ago. At every opportunity, Tyler maintained a diligent watch across the ocean. Dad rested with his hands on his hips and seemed to be struggling to breathe.
Stars were dotting the velvet black above us when I finally peeled back on the throttle. Setting the engine to the lowest speed, I leaned over the magnetometer monitor, searching for the yacht on the bottom of the ocean.
“Are we there?” Tyler asked.
I jolted and turned around. “If you keep sneaking up on me like that, don’t blame me if you get a kick in the balls.”
Tyler raised his hands. “Okay, I’ll start whistling prior to approach.”
Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to the monitor.
He slipped in next to my side. “Can you see the yacht?”
He smelled so good. I couldn’t remember the last time I was next to a man who wore cologne. He’d done a damn good job of removing fishy odors.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“Jeez, you’re impatient.”
“Well, in my defense, you ignored my last two questions.”
I scowled at him.
He shrugged. “I’m curious. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Obviously.” I hoped Mr. Inquisitive didn’t intend to bombard me with questions all day long, especially if he graced me with that sexy cologne.
What was that scent? Oriental spices? Musk? Whatever it was, it smelled so good.
“Ooh, is that it?” He jabbed at the magnetometer monitor as Rhino glided right over the top of the wreck.
“That’s the one.” I waited until the yacht was out of view, and Rhino was out of its way before I turned off the engine. When Rhino’s bow settled into the water, I released the four anchors. The long chains rolled over the sides of the boat.
“Out the way.” I shooed him out of the bridge and marched outside. A half-moon was edging up from the eastern horizon, and the Milky Way was making its presence known.
I strode to the portside bow anchor which had stopped rolling out, and checked the depth marker on the chain. “One hundred and sixty feet.”
“Is that good?” Tyler leaned over my shoulder and peered at the chain links that were as big as his bicep.
“Define good?”
He blinked at me. Holy smokes, his lashes are long. Maybe he had some Mediterranean heritage in him.
He waggled his head. “At that depth, how easy will it be to salvage the wreck?”
“Well, the depth isn’t our biggest concern.” I strolled to the bucket of fish guts, and as I walked the length of my boat to the rear, Tyler matched my strides behind me. I stepped down the three steps to the dive platform and tossed the bucket contents overboard.
Tyler stood beside me, peering into the water.
“Oh shit.” He pointed to our right. “Shark.”
Two fins carved across the surface like machetes, and as the sharks feasted on the bloody burley, another five sharks joined them.
“I’d been told the yacht sank in a shark breeding ground,” I said. “Guess they were right.”
“Jesus. Look at the size of that one.”
“It’s a grey nurse,” I said. The shark was only five feet long. “Not the biggest one I’ve seen.”
His eyes grew to the size of bottle tops. “What does this mean to the salvage plans?”
“It means I’ll need to watch my back.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re still going down there?”
I washed the bucket out in the water. A three-foot shark darted my way, just about taking a chunk out of the bucket before I snatched it back. “Nosy bugger.”
“Seriously, Indiana, are you going down there?”
“Not right now. Sunset is when they’re hungry.” I climbed up the steps. “I don’t have a choice. Unless you can dive?”
His gaze darted to the water, where a pair of sharks cruised back and forth past the dive platform as if they were putting on a show to earn more food.
His expression twisted like he was tossing up how to answer.
I clapped his shoulder. “It’s okay. You can stay up here where it’s safe and protect me.”
I used finger quotes to emphasize my point.
He glared at me before he swept his gaze across the ocean again.
“Don’t worry. Kingsley. We’re all alone out here.”
“That’s what worries me. Is it normal to see no boats this far out?”
“Yep. We’re in another world.”
Nodding, he scanned the ocean again, and his brows drilled into a frown.
“Trust me, Kingsley, there’s nobody around for miles. Come on, I’m hungry.” Swinging the bucket, I strolled to the hut.
Dad sat in his favorite spot on the leather sofa with a whiskey in his hand and his feet propped up on the coffee table.
I opened the fridge and scowled. “What’s all this shit?”
I pulled out a bottle of orange juice and eyeballed Tyler.
“I brought supplies. Help yourself.”
Huffing, I put the juice away, grabbed a beer, and reluctantly handed it to Tyler. “Want one?”
“Sure.” He reached for the bottle and studied the label. “So, you like cheap coffee but expensive beer.”
“Ryder gave me the beer for helping him save Piper and Scout.” I grabbed a bottle of Heads of Noosa Pale Lager for myself. “Wise-ass.”
He sipped the beer and nodded at my dad. “Speaking of saving Scout, I heard you found that drug hideout in the middle of the Everglades.”
Dad shrugged. “It was nothing.”
“I’ve been out to that drug den. It was in the middle of nowhere. It’s a miracle you found that place.”
“Not really,” Dad said. “Just followed their tracks.”
I sat on the sofa opposite Dad. “The miracle was that Dad didn’t die from that gunshot wound.”
Dad had been drinking himself into an early grave for years, but when he’d been shot, it was the first time I’d contemplated life without him. And I hated it.
I felt Tyler studying me, and I met his gaze. “So, what’s for dinner?”
“I have two options for you.” He put his beer bottle on the counter. “Fish tacos or fish and chips.”
I blinked at him. “Fish tacos?”
“Yeah, you have most of the ingredients I usually use.” He opened the fridge, and when he bent over, I got a mighty fine view of his ass.
“I brought tomatoes with me and these wraps here.” He pulled a packet from the fridge and showed it to me. “Not exactly taco shells, but they’ll do.”
“Huh. Okay, fish tacos get my vote. Dad?”
He grumbled. “Sounds horrible.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry about him. Dad eats chips every night.”
Tyler swigged his beer, plonked the bottle down, and then rubbed his hands together like he was about to perform a magic trick.
If I was about to be treated to a decent meal, then that would be magic.
Sipping my beer, I settled back on the sofa. As Tyler found his way around our simple kitchen, I was treated to an evening show like I had never had before.
Since Mom was murdered, Dad always did the cooking on Rhino, and he knocked a meal together like he knocked our equipment together. Tyler, however, prepared the meal like he was cooking for the queen. He even chopped the onions with precision. Dad massacred his onions.
By the time I’d finished my beer, the meal smelled amazing, and my stomach was growling like a pit bull. I was fascinated by Tyler’s cooking show way more than I should be. Or maybe it was just his sexy ass. It was nice to have some eye candy for a change.
He glanced at me over his shoulder, and I snatched my gaze away.
Damn, he caught me checking him out.
I needed a distraction, but I couldn’t make myself leave my front-row seat. I grabbed another beer, returned to my chair, and said, “You never answered me on whether you have scuba dived before, Kingsley.”
As Tyler stirred the meal in the heavy pan with a wooden spoon, he said, “About ten years ago, I did a scuba diving course in Fiji.”
“Ten years ago? What were you? Sixteen?”
“Yeah, actually, I was. So, that means it was thirteen years ago.”
He looked much younger than twenty-nine. Clearly, life had treated him well. Unlike me, I was thirty-three and felt like I’d lived for fifty years.
“And you haven’t dived since?” I asked.
“No.” He shrugged. “Haven’t really had time.”
I sipped my beer, and he turned back to the pan, running the spoon around the edge. “Okay, this is nearly ready. Where do you eat?”
“Right here. Where do ya think?” Dad did an exaggerated eye roll at me.
Tyler pulled out three plates and turned off the heat to the pan. Come and get it.”
He stepped back, presenting the meal like it was a prized catch.
Dad grumbled as he sat forward, and I offered my hand to help him stand. “Come on, Old Man, up you get.”
“I’ll give you Old Man.” Dad stood without my help. He was only fifty-nine, but he could pass for seventy.
I walked to the counter where Tyler had parts of the meal spread out like a smorgasbord. Not that I’d ever eaten at one. He’d even made hot chips for Dad.
“How do we do this?” I reached for a plate.
“I’ll show you.” He placed a wrap on the plate, topped with a mixture that looked to contain fish, onion, capsicum, tomato, and spices. He added grated cheese, then rolled it up, and added a few hot chips on the side. “Here, this one’s for you.”
“Oh, thanks.” I took the plate, feeling awkward yet also weirdly special.
“You want me to do your fish taco?” Tyler asked Dad.
“Yeah, suppose so.”
I sat so I could watch Dad’s expression. His frown was as if Tyler was making him rotten prawn soup. Dad nodded his thanks, and as he shuffled my way, I mouthed to him to be nice.
Scowling, he sat, placed his plate down, and grabbed his whiskey bottle to top up his glass.
Tyler placed the plate with the remaining hot chips on the coffee table for us to share and sat beside me with his meal balancing on his knees. I had the impression he’d never eaten a meal in a setting like this before. He reached for his taco with both hands. “Dig in while it’s hot.”
I took a bite. The flavors exploded in my mouth. It was like a party for my taste buds, and despite myself, I couldn”t help but let out a moan of satisfaction.
Tyler grinned at me.
Dad made a show of his reluctance to eat, but after his first mouthful, he grunted his approval between bites of his fish taco and the hot chips. I couldn”t remember the last time I saw him enjoying a meal this much, and it was heartwarming to see him actually present in the moment, instead of lost in his thoughts or drowning them in alcohol.
The meal was messy, and although I tried to stop it, the final contents of my taco spilled onto my plate. “Whoops,” I said. Giving up, I put my empty wrap down.
“Dinner and a show.” Tyler grinned. “It’s okay. Mexican food can be like that.”
Somehow, he’d managed to eat his meal without dropping any. Dad and I, however, had bits spilled all over our plates.
Other than our noisy eating, the only other sound was the gentle waves slapping against Rhino’s side. It was a perfect night to be out on the ocean.
Dad burped as he put his plate down and grabbed his whiskey glass. “Damn, boy, I never thought I’d like fish made like that, but you did good.”
Tyler chuckled. “Thanks. I’ve had some practice.”
Dad raised an eyebrow at me. “Don’t go expecting me to make anything fancy like that.”
I chuckled. “I’d never dream of it, Dad.” I did an eye roll at Tyler. “Dad does the cooking on Rhino.”
“Cool.” He nodded. “And what’s your job?”
“Everything else.”
“Bullshit!” Dad made a noise like he choked on his tongue. “I do my share.”
I chuckled. “I know you do, Dad. Just joking with you.”
I stacked the plates and carried them to the sink.
Tyler joined my side, and as we made small talk about Rhino and the weather, he helped me do the dishes. It annoyed the hell out of me. Tyler was so damn nice and easy to talk to. And I had no idea what his cologne was, but it was casting some kind of magical spell that made my randy pussy want to tear off his clothes.
That was messed up. He was a cop. After the relationship mess Kane left me in, I only had sex with men I could walk away from. Tyler was stuck on Rhino with me. Walking away was not an option.
By the time we finished washing up the dishes, Dad had slipped into some kind of food coma and passed out on the lounge.
“So, what do you do for entertainment out here?” Tyler asked.
I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“You offering to do a strip tease for me?” I blurted before I could reign my tongue in.
His jaw dropped.
“You should see your face.” I forced a giggle. “Don’t flatter yourself, Officer Fancy Pants. But this isn’t a five-star hotel. No TV or Netflix out here.”
He dried the last of the plates with a hand towel and put the plate away. “I see that. So, what do you do each night?”
I shrugged. “There’s always something to do on Rhino.”
“Come on, there must be something you do to relax? Read a book? Crochet or knit?”
“Knit!” I laughed. “Do I look like someone who crochets or knits?”
He made a show of glancing up my body, and my damn insides purred at the attention.
“I don’t think there are too many things you can’t do, Indiana Smith.”
I blinked at him, totally lost for words.
“Ha, you should see your face,” he said.
Giggling, I shook my head and stepped away from him before I did something stupid like haul his sexy ass down to my cabin, strip us naked, and show him exactly how we could spend the next few hours.
Trying to ignore the blaze of heat that flooded my cheeks, I mustered a casual tone. “Dad and I usually just hang out here, enjoying the peace and quiet.”
Dad released a massive snore that rumbled off his tongue for way too long.
Tyler formed a disgusted expression.
I burst out laughing.
“We also play cards, so I can keep Dad awake a bit longer to chat, or we listen to music.” I pointed at the record player in the corner. “Or we just sit at the bow and watch for falling stars.”
Dad rumbled another massive snore as if laying weight to our decision.
“The stars have it for me.” Tyler fed the tea towel onto a bracket, making sure it lined up perfectly. “Want another beer?”
A flutter of excitement danced in my chest, and I told my stupid body to settle the fuck down. “Sure, I’ll grab them. You grab the chairs.”
I pointed at the two fold-up chairs between the fridge and the wall.
As we strolled to the front deck, the sky was painted with twinkling stars, casting a soft glow over Rhino and the ocean around us. The air was cool and salty, a welcome reprieve from the heat of the day.
We settled on folding chairs side by side, facing the endless expanse of water before us.
The gentle lull of the ocean waves slapping Rhino’s side brought a sense of tranquility as we cracked open our beers. We clinked the cold bottles together, and the sound echoed softly in the peaceful night.
Tyler leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the sky, and the shimmering stars allowed me to see the look of wonder on his face.
“It’s beautiful out here,” he murmured, almost to himself.
I dragged my gaze from him to the Milky Way, feeling a sense of pride at sharing this breathtaking view with him. “Yeah, it never gets old.”
I took a sip of my beer.
We sat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company and the serenity of the night. The only sounds were the occasional splash in the water and the ever-present creaks and groans of Rhino swaying with the ocean currents.
I turned my gaze back to him. “How long have you been a cop?”
He ran his thumb over the dimple in his chin. “Sometimes I think too long.”
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “You know that’s not an answer, don’t you?”
As he gripped his bottle in his hands and looked at me, I swear I could hear his heartbeat.
“Despite my father’s objections,” he said, “I followed in his footsteps and joined the force when I was twenty-four, so that’s five years ago.”
“Huh, I followed my dad, too, also despite his objections. But what else would I do?”
His incredible eyes seemed to devour me. “I already told you; I think you can do anything.”
“Does flattery always work for you?”
“Just stating a fact.” He swigged his beer and turned his gaze skyward again.
“Where were you before you moved to Rosebud?”
He clenched his jaw, and I sensed I’d tapped into a topic he didn’t want to delve into.
“Melbourne.”
“Huh. I’ve never been to Melbourne. Then again, I’ve never been anywhere. Were your parents pissed about you moving all the way up here?”
He swigged his beer again, and as I questioned if he was toying with the decision of whether or not to answer me, I found myself holding my breath.
Oh, jeez, maybe his parents aren’t around anymore.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer.”
“No, it’s just. . . it’s a bit complicated, but yeah, they’re fine with me transferring up here.”
I had a rotten feeling that was a lie, and all the good, nice things he did all afternoon were stolen with that thought. “Oh, that’s good then. Are you in touch with them often?”
“Yep.” He drank again, and the starlight twinkling in his beer bottle didn’t reach his eyes.
“Why did you transfer up this way?” I squeezed my bottle, hoping for truth in his response.
The weight of his following silence was staggering.
“Well, it’s clear that chatting isn’t your thing. I’m outta here.” I stood and snapped my chair closed.
“Indiana, it’s complicated.” He reached for my hand, but I yanked away before he touched me. Conflict riddled his expression.
“Yep. Don’t I know it.” I marched away, furious that I’d convinced myself that Kingsley was different.
He fucking wasn’t. He was just like all the other cops I’d met.
And the sooner he was out of my life, the better.