19. Nate
Nate
Garrett’s mouth was still against mine when the display nearest my shoulder flashed.
A small amber notification pulsed at the edge of my vision, appearing and disappearing in the darkness.
I ignored it for another second, reluctant to surrender the warmth of his mouth, the extraordinary peace that had come over me.
The light flashed again. I drew back just far enough to breathe.
“The probe has finished its first round of data collection.”
Garrett’s hand slipped from my hair and settled against the back of my neck, his thumb resting against the sensitive place below my ear.
“Okay.”
I turned toward the navigation panel and reached for the auxiliary display docked beside it. The unit was thin and rectangular, roughly the size of an electronic reader. I unsnapped it, bringing it closer to our faces. My lips still tingled where his had been.
“Let’s see if my skeleton is okay.”
The terrifying thought that it had been scattered or, worse, crushed besieged me. What if the iceberg had fallen on it and it was back to being buried under tons of ice?
I remained seated across his thighs as he leaned over my shoulder so we could both study the data on the screen held in my hands. His chest curved around my back, enclosing me from behind.
I clicked on the first short video file and we watched the probe moving across the seafloor. It entered the little crevasse below the iceberg overhang and I could immediately see the displacement wave had caused some changes.
I opened another video. A skeletal shape emerged briefly at the edge of the light, one pale curve among the darker contours, before the probe corrected its angle and showed a full view of the bones.
My eyes were glued to the screen as I held my breath.
The force of the displacement was enough to rock our ship and send me overboard, but had it caused an equal disturbance here?
Garrett muttered something too low for me to distinguish.
“Something wrong?” I asked, anxiety pooling in my stomach.
“Just talkin’ to myself.”
“I want you to talk to me. I’m nervous, Garrett.”
He turned his head and his lips touched my temple. The kiss was unhurried, more affectionate than teasing, but it lingered long enough for warmth to spread through me. My anxiety eased and I felt like I could breathe again.
“Sorry, darlin’. Give me a few minutes.”
We continued looking through the videos and images. The more I watched, the better I felt. There had been some shifting for sure, but the skeleton hadn’t been impacted. The iceberg’s overhang seemed to have sheltered it. After the last set of images, I relaxed.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“It looks like I need to change some of my calculations. She has shifted a bit.”
“Is that bad?”
“No.” He kissed my hair. “Can I see?”
“Sure.” I let him hold the screen. He opened the final set of still photographs and spent several minutes moving backward and forward through them. He enlarged the same section of rock from two different angles, compared it with a wider video pass, and returned to an overhead image of the crevasse.
“Can your probe be rerouted to come along here?” Garrett’s finger traced a line beside the edge of the opening. “I want another pass from this direction.” He tapped a dark section near the base where a projection of rock concealed the area behind it. “And more coverage here.”
“Yes. I can do that. I need to enter a new set of coordinates and adjust the camera orientation. It should only take a few minutes.”
He passed the display back to me. I entered the additional imaging points, selected a slower speed for the section nearest the projection, and ran the complete route check.
Outside the transparent walls of our submersible, the probe hovered while the final command loaded, rotated in place, and then began moving along its revised heading.
I opened the communications channel.
“Submersible to bridge.”
Static crackled softly through the cabin before the communications officer answered.
“Bridge here.”
“The probe has completed its initial route. We are programming one additional full pass for supplemental imagery and video along the western edge of the site. Estimated extension is twenty minutes.”
“Life-support status?”
I checked the readouts. “Internal pressure is stable. Oxygen and carbon dioxide levels are normal. Battery reserve looks good.”
“Copy.”
I closed the channel and the cabin returned to near darkness. For a little while, I remained upright and watched the probe.
Garrett’s thumb slipped under the wool at my waist and began tracing a slow pattern back and forth. The probe lights faded into the distance.
The only illuminated area was immediately around the submersible. The floodlights showed the seafloor, which never failed to astonish me with its diversity. A pale, elongated body moved between a sponge and a cluster of brittle stars. I raised one hand and pointed.
“That is a sea cucumber.”
Garrett followed my finger. “Which one?”
“The pale one beside the sponge.”
“That thing?”
“Yes.”
“Funny-looking little bastard.”
“An astute scientific observation.”
“Put it in your posh papers.”
I chuckled. “I’ll cite you.”
I allowed my body to settle backward. His arms closed around me immediately.
I rested my cheek against his shoulder and tucked my face into the warm hollow between his neck and the sweater collar.
The thumb that was tracing patterns on my waist got replaced by a large warm palm. He laid it flat against my skin.
Garrett pressed another kiss to my forehead. A little later, his mouth found my cheek. Then my temple. He seemed incapable of leaving me untouched for more than a few moments.
I relaxed more fully into him until I could no longer distinguish where I started and where he ended.
I drew a deep breath against the skin of his neck.
Under the clean trace of soap, there was a woodsy scent of his cologne.
I drew another breath, hungry for more. Another note emerged beneath it, softer and warmer than I had expected.
Sandalwood.
The scent was faintly sweet under the darker wood, subtle enough that I might never have noticed it from a distance. Oh, but the combination had me swooning. The helpless flutter in my stomach came back.
I breathed in again, shamelessly this time.
And then I remembered he was wearing my sweater.
The realization sent another ridiculous little turn through my stomach.
The darkness made every sensation more distinct.
I could not properly see his face or anticipate the movement of his hands.
My body started feeling like a live wire, sensitive with the anticipation of his next touch.
“I just remembered something,” I whispered without lifting my head, not wanting to disturb the calm that had enveloped us.
The hand moving along my side slowed, fingertips brushing against my ribs.
“Hmm?”
“You started saying sorry on the deck.”
His hand stilled.
“I thought you were sorry about sleeping with me.” I tilted my head slightly, though I could not see much of his expression. “If that wasn’t it, what were you apologizing for?”
Garrett exhaled through his nose. “The conference.”
I waited.
“I didn’t introduce you right. Left you standing there to do it yourself because I was too caught up in everything going on between us to remember my manners.”
For a moment, I genuinely could not remember what he meant. Then the image returned: the crowded screen, the captain’s comment, Garrett staring at me as if he had momentarily forgotten there were other human beings in the room.
“Oh. I barely registered that.”
“It was still wrong.”
Perhaps it was. More importantly, he was saying sorry.
In my experience, most people had trouble admitting to their faults.
There was courage in humility, and damn, how it made him even more attractive.
I reached up and found his cheek in the darkness, guiding his face down far enough to press a kiss against it. “There,” I murmured. “You’re forgiven.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
I settled back with my cheek against his chest. I liked how simple it was with him.
He spoke plainly and truthfully. I didn’t realize how much of a breath of fresh air that was.
I didn’t have to mine for hidden meanings or twist myself up wondering what he was hiding from me.
The peace he brought was priceless, and somehow that made me horny.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
My heart did a little dance every time he called me that. “So about your note… Do you still want a duel? Because I have ideas.” I grinned into his chest.
“Don’t need another duel.”
“What about dueling with different swords?”
“I thought you trained in fencing.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting the smirk threatening to escape. “No,” I said, drawing the word out. “The other swords. The ones we’ve already established we wield rather harmoniously.”
“Oh.”
“We’ll even keep your original promise.”
“Original promise?”
“Fight until death.” My grin couldn’t be contained. “La petite mort.”
“La… what?” Garrett’s voice caught between confusion and mirth. “Is that another extra rule in fencing?”
The question shattered what remained of my composure. Laughter broke out of me, bright and uncontrollable.
“I hope not,” I managed. “It’s French.”
I shifted and climbed on him, straddling him properly, one leg on either side of him.
“That ain’t helping.”
That only made me cackle harder. Garrett held me, looking up into my face, his smile wide and open.
“It means ‘the little death,’” I said between giggles. “It’s an old euphemism.”
I could see his eyebrow rise.
I leaned towards his ear and breathed, “For orgasm.”
“Jesus.”
A deep, warm sound rumbled out of him, traveling through his stomach and into my body. “Damn. Them French got that right. I did almost die last night.”
I threw my head back and howled.
The submersible began to rock beneath us as we both lost ourselves in it.
“Uh-oh.” I had to wipe my eyes before I could check the panels to make sure we were okay and that we hadn’t sent some alarm signal. I didn’t need the bridge pinging me while I was having the best conversation of my life.
Once I finished checking the readouts and settled back, Garrett’s fingers carded through my hair, and he pulled out the band. My hair spilled free. He seemed to really enjoy that.
“Actually, I wanted to say sorry about that,” he said while playing with my hair.
I blinked down at him. “What? Why?”
“I fell asleep.”
I waited, unsure at first whether he meant to continue.
“I’ve never done that before,” he said. “I didn’t even check whether you were hurt. I didn’t ask if you were okay, or sore, or if you needed anything. I just fell asleep on top of you.”
Concern roughened the edges of every word. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Because it was one of the best feelings I have ever had.” I kissed the tip of his nose and rested one hand on his chest for leverage. “I did not want to move. I liked having you asleep on me. I liked knowing you were so comfortable that you simply let yourself go.”
The hand at my waist shifted, fingers pressing faintly into my side.
“And I liked the feeling of your weight.”
“You did?”
The uncertainty in those two words was so naked that my heart contracted.
“Wasn’t I too heavy?”
I shook my head. “No. I really, really… really liked it.”
His heartbeat altered beneath my hand.
“It made me feel safe.”
Garrett suddenly looked away, no longer meeting my eyes.
His hand slipped from my hair, and I saw it curl into a fist. “I just wanted to make sure.” There was something guarded in his voice now, a careful flattening that made the words sound as though they had come from farther away. “Not many people enjoy that.”
He stared off to the side.
“Hey.” Gently, I turned his face toward me. “I did. I enjoy everything about you, handsome. Every single thing.”
The words altered something in him. The thighs that were supporting me hardened. His chest, which had risen and fallen with such easy steadiness, went still beneath my hand.
“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.
His heart began to pound, but he wasn’t answering me.
“Garrett? I can hear your heart pounding.”
He drew a ragged breath. The darkness concealed his expression, and I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination that he was close to crying.
When he spoke, his voice was so rough that it was worse than when he had swallowed seawater. “I didn’t know anybody could like all of me.”
The confession entered me with a force I couldn’t have anticipated.
My thumb rested against the roughness of his cheek. Beneath my other hand, his chest continued its uneven rise and fall.
“I always thought there’d be some part of me I’d have to apologize for.” He swallowed. “The way I am. The way I…” His breath caught, forcing him to begin again. “I’ve spent years thinking I was always going to be too much for somebody.”
“Oh, love.” I pulled him flush against me.
His next words were quiet. “I think I finally found a home in you.”
Everything inside me melted. There was no other word for it. My heart, my bones, every last part of me that had survived all the ugliness in the world, seemed to soften at once.
After a long moment, Garrett asked, “How much time until the probe returns?”
I checked the readouts. “About fifteen minutes. Why?”
He shifted, and that’s when I noticed he was rock hard. “Was wonderin’ if you still wanted to go through with your idea of a second duel with different swords.”
My mouth fell open in shock and delight. “Oh, you’re absolutely the man of my dreams.”