Page 45 of Weathering The Storm

Russian isn’t my forte. I have no idea whatglazkimeans, and at this rate, I’m not sure if I want to know. Not if it’s the reason his gaydar pinged for me before Seth.

Seth asks anyway. “Glazki?”

“That.” Orlov gestures between our faces. “What you are doing at him right now.Stroit glazki. The eyes.”

I try to find whatever Orlov’s talking about from across the room, but I think I already know. I think it’s the look he gives me right before I kiss him and right after I pull away. The same glimmer that appears when he’s calling me Nicky. Teasing me. Watching me tend to his hand injury. Gifting me a pair of gloves.

Jorgensen shakes his head. “Can’t believe you were right.”

“Is amazing what you can notice when you are not talking all the time.”

He presses his tongue to his top lip and leans with his elbows on the table. “You and Perry wanna go double or nothing to settle who tops? My money’s on Cap’.”

I don’tdarelook at Seth, but I swear I have a sixth sense for his smirk.

“I’ll take that bet,” Perry says.

“Shut up. No more bets,” Orlov snaps. Frowning at both of them before he… smiles?Actuallysmiles at us. With both sides of his mouth. “You are great manager, Seth. And Lundvall, the best Captain I’ve ever worked for. If you are both happy, we are happy.”

“Right, yes,” Jorg says. “Love is love, and all that good shit.”

“Obviously.” Perry slings an arm around my shoulder and drags me over to sling the other around Seth. “That’s why this is looooovegambling. It’s different.”

There’s nothing serious about his tone, but I latch onto that word no matter how joking it is.

Love.

I’ve gone out on the water without a nav system before. There’s something wistful about it, making your way by cardinal directions and landmarks like sailors did long ago.

That’s what I’ve been doing with Seth all along, I realize. Charting my course with him as my guiding star. No idea what the coordinates of my destination were until now.

I shrug Perry off with what I hope is the bearing of a man still technically in command of something. The vessel and this crew, if not my own self. “Okay, that’s enough. You’ve still got two more hours on anchor watch.”

“Yes, sir.” He punches Seth’s shoulder, grinning like he’s won something even though, evidently, he’s in the red. “Enjoyyourtwo hours on break.”

“Oh, I will,” Seth says shamelessly.

Openness is going to take some getting used to. No lowered voices, no checking over our shoulders. No privacy, with this group.

But I have to say… noguiltfeels good. No lies, no hiding, and no judgment. For that, I’ve never felt more bonded to anyone than I am to these guys.

“Thank you,” I say to Orlov and Jorgensen, who are still making a hearty dent in our provisions like a pair of bilge rats. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have a crew I could talk to about this. I appreciate you guys.”

“And we appreciate you.” Jorgensen salutes with a chip. “Speaking of—when’s dinner?”

“Fend for yourselves tonight.” Seth takes my hand. “We’re going back to sleep.”

I pull him toward the wheelhouse stairs. “Captain’s quarters, this time?”

“Hell yeah.”

Chapter 13

Nick

For all the peace of mind it’s afforded me, being open about my relationship with Seth hasn’t bought us any more time together. A few moments to talk here and there, holding hands over the table. A brief brush of lips when we switch off or debrief, or when we go our separate ways.

If it weren’t for the way our catch has tapered off again, I’d wish for another storm to blow through. Force us to head for shelter and anchor for the night once more. But we’ve got another 25,000 pounds of king crab in the live well, and it’s been hovering around that number for days.