Page 23 of Ruining His Smirk

“My niece informed her that refusing to respect her decision was a violation of her human rights.”

I burst out laughing. “No.”

“Oh, yes.”

He shook his head, still smiling.

“Then she announced she’d be discussing the matter with Uncle Keith.”

I thumped the railing in laughter. “So now you’re conducting hostage negotiations on behalf of a six-year-old.”

Keith sighed with theatrical resignation. “I appear to have acquired a very demanding client.”

The laughter lingered between us, softening the barb in my heart a little.

6

Garrett

The next morning, I hurried down the corridor, one hand trailing briefly along the smooth wall as the ship rolled beneath my feet. The ship couldn’t have been more different from Waypoint. Back home, the station buildings had grown old, the infrastructure ailing, and the aesthetics were utilitarian. Here, everything looked… posh.

Light wood-toned paneling softened the walls. Recessed lighting cast an even glow overhead. Every corner, every doorway, every built-in cabinet seemed designed as part of a whole instead of being added whenever somebody found the budget for it.

I checked my watch and quickened my pace. I was late.

Normally I was awake before sunrise without needing an alarm. Years on the ranch had seen to that long before Waypoint ever did. However, I had slept poorly last night. Maybe it was sleeping on a ship instead of solid ground. Maybe it was theconstant groaning somewhere deep inside the hull whenever the sea shifted beneath us. Maybe it was spending half the night replaying my encounter with Braddock whether I wanted to or not.

Whatever the reason, I was running late, and I hated that. Dexter was probably already in the mess making friends with half the scientific staff. Yesterday, we’d spent the rest of the day being shown around the ship and getting acclimated. There hadn’t been any reason for Braddock and me to interact.

Today that changed.

Today we actually had to sit down and figure out how to recover a humpback whale skeleton from the bottom of the Southern Ocean. Which meant working together. I wasn’t looking forward to it.

I rounded another corner just as a door farther down the corridor opened. Someone stepped out carrying a mug. I took another two strides before the profile registered.

Braddock.

He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Our eyes met.

Both of us froze.

The corridor was empty. No one was around. I drew a slow breath.

Let it go.

You’re here to do a job.

Don’t engage.

Just let him walk away.

Go eat breakfast.

Braddock studied me for another second. Then, instead of continuing toward the mess, he turned. And started walking back. I frowned. Seriously?

I planted my feet wide and folded my arms across my chest. If he wanted to start yesterday’s argument all over again, he was welcome to try. This time there was no one to save him. And I wasn’t going to go easy on him again.