3. Nate
Nate
Polar Research Ship Icebreaker
Weddell Sea, Antarctica
I was at the long desk in the data suite, going over the feed on my monitor. Sunlight came through the row of portholes along the wall behind me. The bank of screens on the far wall ran its usual scroll of numbers and camera feeds.
“Nate.”
I looked up to find Keith standing in the doorway.
“What is it?”
“The captain wants you down at the moon pool.”
I got up and followed him. “Why does it feel like being called to the headmaster’s office?
” I muttered as he led the way through the ship’s corridors.
The walls were pale cream-colored paneling, with a light gray non-slip floor underfoot.
A stainless steel handrail ran along one wall at waist height on small support brackets.
Overhead, recessed ceiling lighting ran the length of the corridor, with a green illuminated exit sign farther down the hall.
“Been naughty lately?” he deadpanned.
I stared at him with new horror. “Shit. What if he found my stash of… you know… toys?”
Keith threw his head back and laughed. “You’re a grown man of thirty, Nate. You’re allowed to have toys.”
We reached the science hangar. Anson Birch, our ship’s captain, was standing at the bank of screens where the sensor feed came in.
“Good, you’re here,” the captain said.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Come make sure your girlfriend’s still where you left her.”
I looked at the bank of screens. One showed the usual sponges, sea stars, and the myriad of invertebrate communities characteristic of the Antarctic seafloor.
“Okay…” I raised an eyebrow at him. “If she was here last week, she wouldn’t just disappear, would she? Unless we have some really special pirates around. Or…” I gasped. “She cheated on me?”
Captain Birch nodded at the screens. “Stop being a smart aleck and check for me.”
“Can you move the probe north? I want to see that section,” I asked the technician who was standing next to the screens.
She adjusted the controls. The probe drifted across the seabed on the screen, the light moving with it, sweeping over pale shapes half buried in the sediment, bone white against the dark floor.
“Now move it back. Go over this section again.” I put my finger against the screen, tracking the shape beneath it.
She eased the probe back over the same stretch of seabed. The room had gone quiet, everyone watching while I went back and forth across the image for five long minutes, covering every inch of it.
I rocked back on my heels and let out a slow breath. “Yeah. She’s still there and I think I fell a bit more in love.”
Captain Birch broke into a huge grin and clapped a hand on my back, hard enough to rock me forward a step.
“Perfect.” He turned around and started walking out of the hangar. “Be on deck tomorrow at noon. Dress in your Sunday finest.”
“Um, Captain?” I called out. “Care to explain?”
“It’s a surprise.” He waved over his shoulder. With that, he wandered off whistling.
“There he goes,” I muttered. “All jolly and mysterious.” I turned to find Keith studying me with his blue eyes. “What does he mean it’s a surprise? I’m not a kid at Christmas.”
“Honestly? I think to him you’re a kid. His old friend’s kid. And well, technically, it’s close to Christmas.”
I blinked in confusion. “Am I getting… a visit from Santa? In Antarctica?”
Keith grinned. “The ways of the Captain are not for us mere mortals.”
I thanked the technician and followed my friend out of the science hangar.
* * *
The following day, Sunday, arrived bright and clear. The Antarctic sun shone overhead, reflecting off the surrounding sea ice. Everyone on deck wore dark sunglasses against the glare. A steady wind swept across the ship, rattling loose gear and tugging at our jackets.
I glanced down at myself for what had to be the tenth time. Considering we were on a research vessel in Antarctica, that mostly meant my least rumpled cold-weather gear, but I had at least shaved, put on my cream-colored cashmere sweater, and done my best to style my shoulder-length hair.
Beside me, Keith stood with his hands buried in his jacket pockets, looking entirely unconcerned.
“You seriously don’t know what this is about?” I asked again.
He shook his head. “Nope, but it brings back memories of my barracks days.”
“When your commanding officer would drop in suddenly and everything had to be spick-and-span?”
“Yep.”
I let out a sigh. “If this is some inspection of my cabin by the Commander whoever, I’m doomed.”
Keith grinned beneath his beanie.
A few yards away, Captain Birch stood near the bow with the unmistakable posture of a man enjoying himself far too much. Every so often he glanced toward the horizon before returning to an annoyingly cheerful tune he continued whistling.
“I don’t understand why he’s so pleased with himself,” I muttered.
“He likes secrets.”
“He likes tormenting people.”
“That too.”
I folded my arms against another gust of wind and stared out over the endless white horizon. Then a faint rhythmic thumping reached us. I frowned.
A dark shape appeared in the distance, growing larger as it skimmed over the frozen landscape before crossing above the open channel our ship had carved through the sea ice.
“A helicopter?” I said.
The captain’s grin widened.
As it drew closer, the familiar blue-and-white paint scheme came into view.
I blinked. “No way.”
I knew this chopper. The pilot and co-pilot were the same duo who had saved hundreds of penguins during an emergency rescue just a week ago.
The discovery that they were married to each other had stayed with me.
I had come to really like the disaster husbands, and if they were coming to visit us, I was pumped.
The helicopter circled once before descending toward the ship’s helipad. We turned our faces away as loose crystals of ice burst outward beneath the rotor wash. As soon as the rotors slowed, the cockpit door opened, and two men climbed out.
Yes! A smile spread across my face. It was them after all.
Captain Birch strode forward to greet them. “It’s good to see you two again.”
“You too, Captain,” the pilot replied.
Once the introductions were done, I stepped forward. “Daniel. Reed.” I grinned like a fanboy. “Finally we get to shake hands instead of just talking over the radio.”
They both laughed and Reed shook my hand. “Absolutely.” Reed was a giant in person. I had to crane my head to look into his eyes.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you back down here so soon.” I shook his husband’s hand, looking between the two of them. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled that you’re here.”
At that, they looked at each other, a bit confused. No words were exchanged, but the way they communicated without talking made a tiny kernel of envy stir inside me.
They were openly queer. Handsome. Married. And so in love. They got to live a life of adventure together. Damn, they were blessed. I hoped they knew it.
Captain Birch’s voice carried across the deck.
“Thank you for coming. We owe you.”
I looked up. Keith was standing directly between me and the captain. I took a couple of steps to one side.
The captain looked up at that exact moment, his face splitting into a grin. “There you are.” He swept an arm toward the man standing beside him like he was revealing a grand prize. “Nate, I’d like you to meet the man—”
The rest of his words were lost because I stopped breathing. For one impossible second my mind simply refused to accept what I was seeing. Everything vanished from existence.
The wind.
The laughter.
The rhythmic ticking of the helicopter blades winding down.
Garrett fucking Landry stood on the helipad.
Him!
That arsehole.
That fucking alpha jock who couldn’t take losing to me fair and clean.
He was standing there exactly as I remembered him, broad-shouldered, cocky, and smug. Heat flooded straight through my chest. He was exactly the kind of man I hated. Men I had always been ridiculously attracted to — alpha assholes who couldn’t understand a no.
I closed the distance between us in an instant.