“I know you are, Sheila,” Tabitha placated. “And so am I. We’ll put our heads together once I get home, and work out a plan. How’s that?”
“A plan. A plan is good. If he’s nice. Is he nice, Tabbi? I think you said he’s nice.”
“He’sverynice, Sheels,” Tabitha admitted. “I tell you what. This time tomorrow night when I call, if he’s with me you can talk to him. Would you like that?”
“I’ll talk to the Merchant Mariner. I’ll talk. I have to find things to talk about. Merchant Marine.”
Click.
The line went dead, and Tabitha laughed.
She pictured Sheila, already deep into her computer. Over the course of the next few hours, her sister would unearth a slew of facts, figures, and questions regarding the Merchant Marine with which she’d eventually pepper Spencer. Tabitha would have to warn him what he was going to be up against should he agree to talk to Sheila, but she had a feeling he could handle it.
While she’d been pondering, Spencer had traversed the telescopic bridge between the ships, back onto the Atlaua, and was helping the crew remove lines so the two vessels could undock from each other.
With one last, semi-sarcastic salute to his brother across the growing distance between them, Spencer stood and watched the Cutter power away, its big diesel engines churning, getting it out of close quarters with the Atlaua before the high-powered gas turbines kicked in.
There had been an interesting set to Spencer’s shoulders as he’d given his final wave.
Yup. Tabitha had a few of Sheila’s stellar observational powers.
His stance had seemed confident, and almost…hopeful. She wondered what the brothers had talked about? Things had seemed pretty intense when she’d taken her leave to give them privacy, but with how they were both looking now—if she were reading their body language correctly—something quite satisfactory had occurred between them.
Interesting.
When Spencer finally turned and his eyes found hers, Tabitha knew she’d be getting her answers soon enough. He stalked her way with purpose, but…
What exactly was his purpose? Did he have in mind the same naked things she’d been dreaming about?
Tabitha sure hoped so.
“Hey,” he said as he reached her side, lifting his hand to tuck one stray curl—from where it had been whipping about in the wind—behind her ear. It was a spontaneous gesture, and it set her heart aflutter.
“Hey, yourself,” she answered, suddenly feeling shy.
What the hell? Where had her normal, jump-in-with-both-feet attitude gone? This was a seduction, not a hearts-and-flowers romance.
Maybe her brassiness had taken a hike with Sheila’s talk of boyfriends, and living arrangements, and…
“Do you like cats?” she blurted out.
Spencer threw back his head and laughed.
“After all the shit we’ve gone through today, that’s what you’re thinking about? Cats?”
Tabitha shrugged uncomfortably, trying to shake off her sudden case of bashfulness. “I was just having a conversation with my sister, and she asked.”
Spencer raised a dark brow, and an almost arrogant smile came to his lips. “You were talking about me?”
“Uh, yeah,” Tabitha confessed. “I told her what had happened with the sub, and how you came to my rescue…”
“And that led to whether or not I like cats?” he prodded amusedly.
“Yeah. Kind of.”
She’d admit to nothing else.
“Okay then,” he said with gleeful aplomb. “You can tell her the answer is yes. I like cats.Anddogs. I want to have a few of each when I finally settle down.”
