Chapter 5
Chapter Five
brADEN
There were a thousand places to hide on an island, but your family’s pier wasn’t one of them.
That thought looped through my head as I marched toward the dive shop, the wooden planks thwacking under my flip-flops.
The morning was barely alive, but my muscles were already clenched tight.
The wind had changed direction, which set me on edge for some reason.
I sent back a growly confirmation and dragged my ass out of bed.
He’d already warned me this would likely happen, and now here I was marching down the dock.
On time. Professional. I was also marching into the favor I dreaded, and toward the one person I spent a decade avoiding.
Every step felt like a betrayal of my own common sense, but I made a promise.
I was here to captain the boat. Stay busy, stay distant.
I spotted Eli immediately, dragging a hand through his hair in front of the dive shop.
My feet stumbled.
If I was running the boat, he should be in the pool area prepping for his open water students or dealing with gear rental. Instead, he was pacing the dock, his shoulders rigid. When he caught sight of me, his expression morphed to a mix of guilt and determination.
“Why aren’t you setting up for your certification class?” I called out as I approached, cutting straight to the chase.
Eli’s face didn’t show relief at seeing me. In fact, he winced like a man about to pull the pin on a grenade. “Yeah, about that. The plan has... evolved.”
I braced my hands on my hips. “Evolved how? You said you needed a captain.”
“I do. But I also need a divemaster.” He held up a hand before I could interrupt. “The Scripps team decided to dive Marker 22 this morning. It’s a tricky site and has different liability requirements.”
“I agreed to drive,” I reminded him, scowling as a gust of wind blew through my hair. “I stay dry, I captain the boat, and we meet the staff on vessel mandate. That was the deal.”
Eli stared right back at me. “Not at Marker 22. Because of the currents, our insurance policy kicks up a notch. It’s not enough to have a resort employee at the helm. We are legally required to have a certified resort guide in the water with the researchers.”
I hissed an exhale. “So who drives the damn boat?”
“You drive, but any of the Scripps people can stay topside. One of them can handle surface support and the resort is still compliant because you’re on site. But I need you in the water.”
“No way in hell. Find someone else, Eli.”
“There is no one else, Braden.” His voice sharpened with frustration. “Jules checked the policy three times. If we don’t have a Sunset Siesta guide in the water at that site, we’re operating uninsured. With me teaching, you’re the only one who qualifies.”
The words slammed into me like a dive weight. I’d been prepared for awkward small talk and professional distance. Not to spend the whole morning right next to Tessa.
“This is not what we agreed to.” My voice came out low and dangerous.
“I know. I’m sorry. But if we don’t provide proper support, we’re in breach of contract and uninsured.” Eli’s expression was genuinely pained, but underneath it was the steel of someone who understood that family business meant family responsibility, whether it was convenient or not.
I stared out at the water. The sound of an approaching boat engine cut through the morning air—a steady, professional rumble that could only be Seahorse. My time was up.
“Jesus. Fine. One day.” The words felt like they were pulled from my chest with pliers. “I’ll guide one day, and then you figure something else out.”
Relief flooded Eli’s face. “Thank you. I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do,” I muttered, watching as Seahorse rounded the point, Tessa’s silhouette visible at the helm. “Like cleaning the fermentation tanks for a solid year.”
Eli clapped me on the shoulder. “I’ll tell Tessa about this before I head out. Try not to look like you’re attending your own execution.”
Seahorse neared, a sturdy, wide-beamed vessel cutting a clean wake through the calm morning water.
At the helm, a figure with dark-red hair pulled back in a tight knot stood silhouetted against the horizon.
Tessa. She maneuvered the boat toward the pier with a practiced ease that annoyed me on a primal level.
Eli let out a low whistle beside me. “Well, she can handle a boat. You gotta give her that.”
“I don’t have to give her anything,” I grumbled, my gaze fixed on the approaching vessel.
As she cut the engine and glided the last few feet to the pier, Tessa’s expression was pure business.
She wore a long-sleeved black rash guard and board shorts, and I did my best not to notice how the clinging fabric highlighted her curves.
If she was nervous, she didn’t show it. Kaia was already on the bow, ready with the lines.
Eli stepped forward to take the line, his smile already working overtime. “Morning, team!” His voice was a little too loud for seven-thirty in the morning. He looped the line around a cleat. “Dr. Donovan, a word, if I may.”
Her eyes flickered to me for a second, her green gaze cool and unreadable, before settling on my brother. “Eli, it’s going to be a long three months if you keep calling me that. Tessa, please. Everything all right?”
“Tessa, it is. The day has gone a little sideways,” Eli said with a regretful grimace. “First, my apologies. Another instructor on the island is down with the flu from hell, and I have to step in to teach his certification class. Which means I won’t be the one with you underwater today.”
Tessa’s stare hardened. She glanced at her two assistants, then back at Eli. “Unfortunate, but we can adapt.”
“There is one other thing,” Eli continued, shifting his weight.
“My wife, Jules—who doubles as our terrifyingly efficient CPA—reviewed the insurance policy. It turns out, because of the shallow approach and currents at Marker 22, our liability coverage requires a resort-certified senior guide in the water. With me teaching, there’s only one person available who qualifies. ”
Tessa’s lips pressed into a thin line.
He gestured toward me, that slightly too-bright smile still on his face. “My very generous brother has agreed to step in as your dive partner.”
As she absorbed the news, her professional mask didn’t slip, but her body stilled. She wasn’t any happier about this than I was. She was trapped too, and she knew it.
For a brief moment, I let myself enjoy her consternation.
“I see,” she said after a long, charged silence. Then she frowned. “Eli, this is technical work. Braden understands these waters—I know that firsthand. But I don’t want a recreational diver for my guide.”
I opened my mouth to snap back when Eli clamped a hand on my shoulder.
“He’s not some tourist, Tessa.” All traces of levity were gone now. “He’s a certified divemaster and pro. He even fills in on dive charters from time to time. I wouldn’t pawn you off on anyone who wasn’t qualified.”
Her eyes flicked back to me, and I held them in a hard stare.
She understood the implication. This wasn’t a choice. It was a non-negotiable term of her contract with the resort. And I was more than qualified.
She gave a single, sharp nod. “Okay. We’ll make it work.”
Eli finally relaxed. “Fantastic! I knew you would be the soul of reason.” He flashed his trademark smile once again, that big-brother defensiveness gone now.
Tessa shot me another guarded look, and I sent its equivalent right back.
Eli pointed to half a dozen tanks lined up. “I’ll leave you to the logistics, then. My students await.”
With a wave, he was gone, a whirlwind of diplomatic charm leaving a battlefield in his wake. The silence that descended was thick and heavy. Zane broke it by stepping forward, all youthful, by-the-book confidence.
“Tessa, per our plan, I’ll start loading tanks and gear onto Seahorse now,” he said, looking at me as if I were a dockhand.
A gust blew in my face again, and this time the reality hit me full-on.
The wind had changed direction. I groaned inwardly as I quickly assessed Seahorse and her big fat ass.
Then my gaze darted to our family boat, tied down the pier away from the bigger charter boats.
The boat Tessa and I had spent a lot of time on.
Zane droned on, oblivious, “We’ll anchor fifty yards up-current from the primary transect point, and—”
“That plan won’t work,” I cut in, my voice flat.
Zane stopped, his mouth half-open. Tessa’s eyes narrowed, and challenge flickered in their green depths.
I crossed my arms, forcing myself to stick to the facts and keep history out of it.
“We’ve got a counter-wind this morning. It’ll push against the ebb tide at Marker 22.
With Seahorse’s draft, if you try to anchor where your chart says, you’ll drag that anchor across the very coral you’re here to study.
” I jerked my head toward the boat at the far end of the pier. “We have to take Odyssey.”
The dilemma played out on Tessa’s face. I was challenging the team’s authority on day one. Every instinct I had, every memory of the ambitious, brilliant girl who never backed down from an argument, told me she would fight me on this.
She was silent for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the water past the breakwater as she read the subtle chop of wind against tide. Then she turned back to me. “What’s Odyssey’s draft?”
I studied Seahorse, then the vessel I knew like my own hand. “At least a foot shallower. She’s about the same length as your boat but will be more stable for this kind of cross-wind while maneuvering around a difficult site.”
Tessa held my gaze for another beat, then turned to her team. “He’s right. The conditions have changed. So does the plan.” Her voice was crisp and decisive, leaving no room for argument. “Zane, you’ll stay topside and coordinate surface support. Let’s get busy transferring the gear to Odyssey.”