Chapter 9
The sun set in pink and orange on the horizon, casting the blunt shadows of the Teeth over the three tethered ships.
All was quiet, the sailors of the former Sweet Lettie settling reluctantly into their new roles as pirates.
Logan was exhausted from coordinating the exchange of goods across the ships and dividing up the sailors in a way that would cause the least amount of disruption.
Yet despite the heavy weight of future muscle aches dragging at his limbs, he retrieved a bottle of wine from the storeroom and made his way past the crew members sitting around barrels betting on dice and carousing.
From somewhere else on the deck, laughter burst into the growing darkness, and Logan smiled to himself as he made his way across the gangplank over the dark lapping water between the Siren and the Sweet Mercy.
A former crew member who’d volunteered to join John nodded to Logan as he stepped down onto the Mercy’s deck.
Logan patted him on the shoulder as he passed.
They’d doubled up the guard shifts on all three ships in case any of the new sailors got the idea to cause trouble.
But Logan doubted they would. The combined threat of the Deep Water Demon and the Ghost Hawk would be sufficient enough intimidation to keep them in line.
Compared to the Siren, the Mercy was quiet and dark, a cloud of somber uncertainty hanging over it. Logan knocked lightly on the door to the captain’s quarters with his wooden hand. John answered almost immediately. A small smile curved his lips as he stepped aside to let Logan in.
The captain’s quarters were well appointed despite the relatively small size of the ship.
The main area was half-stateroom, half-office.
To the right sat a light maple desk, still scattered with papers and charts from the previous captain.
To the left, a small dining table and chairs of the same wood sat on a pastel rug.
Past them, the warm light of the mirrored brass sconces didn’t quite reach the sleeping area on the other side of two banks of waist-high cabinets with curtains behind them.
“I brought wine,” Logan said, lifting the bottle of dark red liquid.
John retrieved a pair of cups from a cabinet as well as a bottle. “I appreciate it, but I’ve already raided the late captain’s stash.” He tilted the bottle so the amber liquid caught the light. “Care to try some?”
Logan nodded and left the wine on the table as John poured them each a glass.
They settled comfortably into their chairs, and John shuffled a deck of cards with ornately illustrated backs.
They remained in comfortable silence as John distributed five cards to each of them.
Logan retrieved a small tin from his pocket and ran his wooden fingertips over the yellow beeswax within so they would grip better.
He carefully positioned the brass joints to hold the cards so his other hand would be free to switch them out as well as pick up his drink.
This had become a habit of theirs over the past year. Whether they were wintering in Illusion, or the two ships were meeting up for Rowan and Yves’s marital reunions, the first mates convened in one or another cabin to drink and play cards and lament the antics of their captains and crews.
At least, that’s how it always started.
They weren’t together, and no one knew that these nights were sometimes more than just two friends chatting and playing cards.
They both sipped their drinks as they examined their cards for a game of Fluke.
The strong brandy hit the back of Logan’s throat and burned his sinuses.
John preferred strong liquor while Logan was partial to sweets like cider, but he wouldn’t pass up an expensive drink if his friend offered it.
Their friendship had definitely hardened his alcohol tolerance, if nothing else.
“So,” Logan said after they’d played one hand, which Logan lost, “did you know the Demon was going to gift you a whole fucking ship?”
“Ha!” John’s bark of laughter accentuated the slap of him laying down the queen of diamonds on the pile of cards, winning the second hand. “I never know what that bastard is going to do. I guess this time it worked in my favor.”
“Definitely an upgrade, Captain.”
John’s brown eyes flashed, and Logan smirked back over the rim of his cup.
“I like the sound of that.”
Logan had noticed during their meeting with the other captains. “Of course you do. You have much more of an ego than you let on.”
“I believe it’s called confidence.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say. Captain.”
John tilted his head, spearing Logan with his intense gaze. Logan felt heat rising up his neck. No matter how many times John looked at him like that, he could never get used to it. He held John’s gaze for a moment before averting his eyes to his cards.
“So where are you planning to head first?” Logan asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.
John examined his cards as well, switching two of them around. Logan didn’t really know why they still played this game. He rarely won, and more often than not their games were left abandoned anyway.
“Maybe I’ll visit Roseforte. See if our gift was delivered,” John said nonchalantly.
Lightning crackled through Logan’s nerves at the mention of the Talvan town where they’d had a threesome with a beautiful barmaid named Nia.
“Oh? You’re going to visit her without me?
” Logan said, trying to match John’s tone.
Last autumn they’d visited her again while hunting down information on a warship called Trinity that the captains had wanted to plunder, and she’d delightedly welcomed them back into her bed.
Logan thought he might be half in love with both of them.
But if he was honest with himself, he’d never actually understood love, so it was probably because they were the only two people he’d ever slept with.
Despite their yearlong casual affair, there was one thing he and John hadn’t done.
Logan bit his lip, trying not to think of it. Maybe they’d just play Fluke tonight, and Logan would go back to his own small cabin on the Siren unfucked once again.
“It wouldn’t be without you if you agreed to be my first mate,” John said, bringing Logan out of his thoughts.
“I thought you already asked Gael?” Logan laid down a jack of hearts, winning the hand. He dumped the cards out of his wooden hand for John to collect and shuffle. “Won’t he be sad if you take it back?”
“I’m sure Fox could help him get over it.” John smirked and redistributed the cards.
“No doubt. But it doesn’t change the fact that Rowan needs me.”
“What if I need you?” John asked with a mock pout.
That was something about him Logan could never quite understand.
He mocked love and vulnerability as if he was above it all, yet he said things like that.
Even if he wasn’t being serious, it made Logan’s heart flutter.
Was he merely being flirtatious? Or was the flirting obscuring something more?
“Sorry,” Logan replied, keeping his tone light. “He’s got seniority.”
“Fair enough.” John leaned forward, laying a card on the table between them, his hand lingering on the faded surface. His eyes met Logan’s. “But does he suck your dick? I doubt it, considering he’s married to Yves.”
Logan almost choked on a sip of brandy.
John continued, “You know if we sail together, we wouldn’t have to wait so long to…play cards.” One eyebrow quirked up, and his hand inched closer over the table.
“As if you don’t play cards with whoever you want when I’m not around,” Logan scoffed.
Their arrangement was unspoken, but clear as day.
There was nothing more than friendship and sexual compatibility between them.
Not that Logan necessarily wanted more from him, nor was he jealous that John inevitably slept with other people while Logan didn’t.
It wasn’t that Logan couldn’t sleep around if he wanted to.
He just preferred the security of knowing John and Nia wanted him. He didn’t like uncertainty.
John said nothing, and Logan glanced up to find John gazing at him over his cards.
“Does that bother you?” John asked, his eyebrows raised.
“N-no, not particularly,” Logan answered honestly. Just because the rest of their friends were falling in love left and right didn’t mean he wanted to.
When John spoke again, his voice was softer. “Are you sure?”
There he went again being unexpectedly considerate. If Logan didn’t know any better, he’d think John actually cared about him beyond friendship.
Logan tilted his head to the side, trying to suss out a deeper meaning behind John’s words.
“Would you actually stop sleeping with other people if I said yes?” Not that Logan would ask him to do that, but he wanted to hear John’s answer.
John blinked at him. “Ah…I don’t think so.”
“Well then what’s the problem, Captain?”
John sat back with a huff. “You keep calling me that.”
Logan leaned forward, laying his cards face up on the tabletop and unbending his wooden fingers with his other hand.
“Well, you are a captain now. Aren’t you?”
“But I am not your captain.”
Logan quirked an eyebrow, enjoying having the upper hand in their flirtations for once.
“You could be, for tonight.”
John stood suddenly, the chair scraping across the rug. He snatched up his half-full cup and downed the rest of the brandy. Logan remained seated, his gaze roving down John’s body to where his cock already filled out his pants.
Gods, he was handsome, with his collar open and his chestnut hair gleaming in the warm light. Logan loved seeing him like this. When the mask of stoicism fell away and left only raw lust in its wake.
Logan reached out and hooked two fingers into John’s waistband. He tugged him forward, and John let himself be led until he was standing between Logan’s legs.