Page 11 of Mated to Team Shadow
"I'll go talk to Ryker," Damon said. "We need a Plan B."
"You got one?" Gunner asked.
"Look." Damon pointed to the storm. "There is a small island there. We should make for it."
I peered and barely made out a black dot under the clouds.
"Into the storm?" I said. Gunner appeared as skeptical as I felt.
"Do you want to ride out the storm in this boat?" said Damon pointedly.
I shook my head and so did Gunner though he crossed his arms over his chest.
"What's going on?" said Jeanine.
There was no need to sugar coat this. "A storm is coming, and I'm not confident that when I get the fuel restored that the fuel line won't clog again. Damon thinks we should put into the closest island and wait things out."
"I got that part," she said with sass. "But how will that help us get us to meet that ship?"
Gunner put his arm around her shoulders, but she shrugged it off.
"It's not," I said. "It will keep us alive, which is job one. We'll work out the rest later."
"Great. Wonderful," she said sarcastically. "I'm on a stalled boat in the middle of the ocean with four gung-ho assassins. I should have taken my chances with Morgan."
"Don't say that," said Gunner. What was wrong with him? He was hanging all over her, and I'd never seen him pay so much attention to one woman.
"Gunner, give me a hand."
"Sure, Doc."
He knelt next to me.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I snapped at him.
"What?"
"You and the girl."
"Back off, Doc. It's none of your business."
Was it? I don't like how close he was sitting next to her or the attention he showed her.
"We rescued her. You can refrain from making moves on her."
"What is your problem?"
"Guys," said Ryker as he rose from below decks. Damon came up behind him. "With the threatening bad weather, we need to get to cover. How's that engine coming?"
"Clogged fuel line," he grunted. "I'm cleaning it now."
With a quick questing glance toward Gunner who stood too closely to Jeanine, I took the fuel line and scooped out the goo with the underwire. Why should I care if Gunner made a play for Jeanine?
Mine.
A heat filled me, and my pants got tighter, and I couldn't believe my beast was starting this now, in the middle of the ocean. An enticing scent that wafted from the wire tickled my nose. Jeanine.
Mine, my beast insisted again. I did not have time for this. My team counted on me to get this engine going. The dark clouds rolled faster toward us, and a brisk wind whipped up over the water and rippled the shirts on our bodies. I didn't have time to pay attention to my beast. I'd pay for it later because my jaguar disliked when I didn't pay attention, but survival was job one.
