Going All In (27 page)

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Authors: Alannah Lynne,Cassie McCown

BOOK: Going All In
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His response wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped for, but at least he was willing to talk—which was more than he offered yesterday. “Fair enough. Thanks for letting me go with you guys.” She hung her purse and coat over her shoulder and wrapped the blanket over the same arm, freeing up a hand. “Can I help you carry anything?”

“Naw,” he said, grabbing another bag from the truck. “I’ve got it. But thanks.”

While he was at least speaking to her, the normal warmth of his eyes was missing, as was the easygoing, flirtatious banter she’d grown so used to. She shivered against his chilly reception and the cold wind blowing off the water and hunkered down deeper into her coat. This was either the bravest or dumbest thing she’d ever done and ranked right up there with telling her father she and Gavin had screwed him over. That night hadn’t gone well at all and had almost gotten Gavin and Sunny killed.

Please, God, let this day go better.

She followed Wade across the gravel parking lot and down the wooden pier to the boat at the end of the dock, where Tyler and Alex stood waiting. The boat had a flat bottom and open deck. The front half, where the captain sat, was covered; the back half was open. A row of air tanks lined the left side; a couple of benches ran along the right. Several duffel bags, similar to Wade’s, lay in the center of the boat, and one of them was open, revealing a wetsuit and a pair of flippers.

She cut her gaze to Wade’s bags and used her nonexistent X-ray vision, trying to see inside. She hadn’t gotten the impression he was diving, but maybe he’d changed his mind. Or maybe he brought his equipment with him so if he became desperate for an escape, he could go overboard.

Stop it.

She shook her head and drove back the negative thoughts. He’d given her the right time and place. Now it was up to her to make sure he didn’t regret his decision.

“Hey, Callie,” Tyler said, reaching out a hand to help her board. “How’s it going?”

She had no way of knowing how much Wade shared with his friends, but she’d made it clear the other night she didn’t do boats. Ignoring their personal drama, she spoke to her individual fears. “I haven’t thrown up yet, so I’d say we’re off to a great start.”

Tyler laughed and pulled her into a quick hug, and she found herself ducking, half expecting him to rub his knuckles over her head in a noogie. “I’m glad you decided to come with us and give it a try. You’ll have a great time.”

“What?” she shrieked and shook her head emphatically while backing away from him. “I’m not—”

She realized Wade’s scowl had given way to a grin, and Alex was also laughing. Her muddled brain finally caught on to Tyler’s teasing tone, and she collapsed onto the bench at the back of the boat with relief. She might not be one of the guys, but they’d certainly accepted her into the fold and were treating her like one.

“You have a dry suit?” Alex asked Wade as he took one of his bags off his shoulder and added it to the pile.

“Hell no. I don’t dive enough for that fancy shit. I have a regular old wetsuit, and I don’t intend to use it.” He gave Tyler a pointed look. “I’m just here to ride and keep you out of trouble. I figured if I was tagging along, though, it made sense to bring my gear.”

Tyler shook his head and sipped on his coffee. “Dude, you really need to relax and stop worrying so much. Everything’s gonna be great. We’ve got the magnetometer.” He pointed to a white-and-yellow device that looked like an arrow on steroids. “The weather is looking good for this morning. We’re gonna find that fucking boat, and then I’m going to be able to tell you, ‘Told ya so!’” He slapped Wade on the shoulder and turned to Alex. “We ready to roll?”

“We’re ready.” To Callie, Alex said, “Sit up here next to me. We’re enclosed so you shouldn’t get wet, but…” He cocked his head to the side and studied her from the corner of his eye. “Do you really get seasick?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never been on a boat or in the sea.”

But I’m getting nerve-sick… Does that count?

He laughed and amended his question. “Do you get sick riding in a car or flying?”

“No.”

“Good. Going out will be rough, but if you keep looking straight ahead, you should be okay.”

Rough?
Should
be okay?

Callie swallowed the ball of nerves blocking her throat and glanced to Wade. She really wanted to sit next to him and hold his hand, but that would be pushing too far, so she put on her brave face and nodded to Alex. “Okay, thanks.” Looking around the edges of her seat, she said, “I don’t suppose there’s a seatbelt on here anywhere.”

She’d said it laughing, as a joke, and fortunately, Alex took the comment as intended. “My driving isn’t nearly as bad as Wade’s. You’ll be fine.”

Despite her efforts to appear relaxed, or at least not overly concerned, she sighed with relief when Wade stepped up behind her and latched his hands over her shoulders. Leaning in close to speak directly in her ear, he said, “I might be pissed as hell, but I’d never let anything happen to you.”

The heat of his body wrapping around her, as well as his words of assurance, sent a strong signal to her heart, but the pain—not anger—filtering through his voice caused a rising tide of tears in her eyes. She bit down on her lip to stop the quivering and blinked back the excessive moisture blurring her vision. “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine once we get underway.”

As they motored out of the marina and into Intercoastal waterway, Callie grew slightly more comfortable with the gentle rocking of the boat. She couldn’t say she was relaxed, but she’d just started to believe the trip wouldn’t be as bad as she’d expected when they rounded the end of the island and all hell broke loose.

Small, choppy waves rolled at them from all sides, tossing the boat to and fro, here and there. From the sky, she imagined they looked like the little silver ball bouncing around on a roulette wheel. An appropriate image, because making it back to shore alive seemed like a real gamble.

Panic quickly settled into her chest and stole her breath, then gave it back in short, jerky snatches. If the entire trip was like this, she’d never survive. She needed to get off. Now. Under the influence of a panic attack, one’s thoughts weren’t always logical, and this was one of those times. She grabbed the railing and, desperate for an escape from the washing machine, considered jumping overboard.

Either sensing her panic or reading her thoughts, Wade pressed down hard on one shoulder, then used his other hand to grab the hair at the nape of her neck, locking her in place. Bending over so he filled her field of vision, he said, “Breathe, Callie.” His tone was firm and commanding. “This’ll only last a minute. Once we get out of the inlet and into the open water, it’ll be much smoother.”

She latched onto Wade’s voice and gaze and used them as grounding devices. She also grabbed the hand still holding her shoulder and squeezed until her fingers were white. She didn’t calm completely, but he said he’d never let anything happen to her, and she believed him.

Sure enough, as soon as they left the inlet, the water changed into big, slow-rolling waves. It didn’t take long to lose sight of land, and a quick check of her cell phone confirmed her suspicions… They were in the middle of nowhere. Her anxiety battled the peaceful sway of the boat to keep her in a slightly agitated state, but she forced herself to appear relaxed and at ease.

After an hour of cruising, Tyler tossed the mini torpedo into the water and gave Alex directions on which way to go. Wade explained to her that the magnetometer would pick up large pieces of debris on the ocean floor. While Alex drove the boat back and forth in a crisscross pattern, Wade and Tyler marked large red Xs on a laminated map. Once satisfied they had enough locations to work with—a total of five—Tyler pulled in the magnetometer, and he and Alex got to work exploring.

Four times, using GPS to locate the positions they’d previously marked on the map, Alex steered them to each spot, Wade dropped anchor, and Alex and Tyler suited up. They dropped into the water, spent approximately ten minutes exploring the ocean floor, then returned to the surface without having found Tyler’s missing ship. Tyler’s irritation grew with each unsuccessful dive, and while there wasn’t enough money in the world to get her into the water, she found herself desperately hoping the fifth and final dive allowed Tyler to find what he’d so desperately been searching for.

Alex stopped the boat on the last red X, Wade dropped the anchor, and Tyler suited up. Rather than grabbing the single tank he’d been using, Tyler grabbed a double tank off the rack and slung it over his shoulders. “Get your double, Alex. I’ve got a good feeling about this one, and we’re going prepared to explore.”

Alex rolled his eyes but didn’t argue against Tyler’s optimism. Without saying a word, he pulled his dry suit on over his clothes, slipped on his tanks, then followed Tyler to the back of the boat.

Callie watched them disappear into the dark water, then turned to Wade. “I’ve figured out if they don’t find anything, they’ll be back in ten minutes. If they do find something, how long will they be?”

Wade shrugged. “About thirty minutes.”

“That’s it?” They’d spent four hours looking for a boat he’d only explore for twenty minutes?

“Yeah, this time.” He glanced to the sky and frowned. “We’re running out of time with this approaching storm. But if it’s here, he’ll have the exact GPS coordinates so he can come back whenever he wants.”

Wow, so much work for such a small payoff. She shook off the thought and refocused on her purpose for being here. Regardless of whether or not they found the boat, this was her last opportunity to talk to Wade without an audience, and she’d be damned if she’d gone through all of this for nothing. With a deep breath, she swiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and started.

“All right. I guess I better talk fast.”

Chapter Eighteen

W
ade propped himself against the boat railing and patiently waited while Callie chewed on her fingernail and composed her thoughts. Part of him wanted to tell her to get on with it, but another, larger part of him feared this might be the last meaningful conversation he had with Callie, and he didn’t mind waiting a few more minutes.

She’d been a trooper all morning and he couldn’t have been more proud of the way she’d handled her fears. He’d known it would take tremendous courage for her to get on the boat, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, he’d thought she might back out. His stomach plummeted when she slammed on the brakes at the entrance, and it took everything in him to stay at his truck and let her work through her fears on her own, without his intervention or reassurances.

He couldn’t hand over his man card by letting her see how glad he was that she’d come, but his heart expanded and thumped a little harder when she finally pulled into the lot, parked, and actually got out. At that point, he knew, unless she admitted to something heinous, he’d be taking her home as soon as they got back on shore, and he probably wouldn’t let her leave again until Monday morning.

“Okay,” she said, dropping her hands to her sides and shaking them out like a boxer preparing to go a few rounds. “I have money from two difference sources.”

He wanted to say
only two,
but kept his sarcasm under wraps.

“The first came from the sale of the Anticue Fishing Pier.”

A cough and laugh caught in his throat, choking him. “I’m sorry. You owned…?”
No way.
Callie owning a fishing pier was wrong on so many levels. He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

She smiled, but her expression lacked humor and her eyes were dull and tired. “Yes.” When he didn’t reply, because he had no idea how to respond to something so ludicrous, she continued. “My father wanted to build a resort on Anticue, but there are ordinances in place to prevent large developments. From what I understand, it took him several years and several rounds of elections to find the right people”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“who would be willing to change the ordinances in his favor.”

Let’s just break it down, shall we?
“You mean people he could bribe.”

“Right. He also needed to acquire enough property on which to build the resort. So, while getting the political components in place, he started buying property at the end of the island where the fishing pier and the Blackout Bar and Grill are. He acted on his own, without the blessing of Holden’s board of directors, so rather than deed the property to Holden Enterprises, which would throw up flags, he put some of the parcels in my name and some in my mother’s name.”

“If he owned the company, why did he need the blessing of the board?”

“It’s a long, complicated story, but
he
didn’t really own”—more of the air quotes—“the company. My mother’s father started Holden Enterprises, but back then it was called Pelletier Resorts. None of my uncles wanted to follow in my grandfather’s footsteps. They mostly just wanted to spend the money.”

She cast her eyes to the ground and shifted from foot to foot. She’d mentioned several times that she used to be like Miranda, and he wondered if this was a moment of introspection for her, where she saw herself in the comment.

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