Karen Rock - His Last Defense

He cleared his throat and his voice, when it emerged, sounded gruff. “Can I get you anything before I go?”

“A boat?”

One corner of her mouth lifted slightly, a grin-through-pain expression he’d glimpsed many times before. Nolee was the type to smile through a setback, laugh at an injury. It’d been the only way he’d known when she was really hurting. Despite everything, it bugged him that after growing up sleeping on family members’ couches and in shelters with her health-challenged single mother, she’d finally gotten what she’d always wanted—a place to call her own—and he’d played a part in her losing it.

Then again, if she hadn’t gambled on outrunning an unpredictable storm to take advantage of what he supposed had been an approved preseason run, she’d still have her boat.

Odds.

Nolee sure liked to play them. When she won, she won big, but when she lost...

He shoved the image of her sinking boat away. She was here now. Saved from her own worst instincts.

But who would be around to catch her the next time?

“Would you settle for Jell-O?” He pulled the clear wrap off the green, wiggling square on her tray. “And captain, huh? What you always wanted.”

Her eyes searched his. “Why are you really here?” She gestured with a sweep of her hand to the room around them, frowning.

Because I needed to see your eyes open.

He squashed that thought, along with the temptation to climb into that bed and warm her up in a way that would be much more enjoyable for both of them.

“Professional courtesy.”

She snorted. “My ass. Try again.”

“Want me to call Craig? Maybe you’d rather have him?” he asked instead, then nearly bit his tongue off.

Her mouth dropped open. She stared at him for a moment in charged silence. “Get out.”

He stepped forward, knowing he’d sounded like an ass, like the jilted boyfriend she’d turned him into, not the man who’d moved on with his life.

“Look, I’m...”

“You’re what, Dylan? You saved me and my men. Thank you, but your mission is done and I don’t need you anymore.”

He hung his head for a moment, then lifted his eyes to search hers. “No. You never did.”

Her gaze narrowed. Whatever she’d been about to say, however, was interrupted by a knock on the open door. A nurse bustled in and smiled at Nolee. “Ah. Good. Now I can tell your crew to hightail it out of here.”

“Goodbye, Nolee.” Dylan tipped his head to the nurse, cast a last look at Nolee and strode out the door.

Job done. Survivor’s health ensured. Now he could get on with his day. His life. And get it back on track, starting with putting in his transfer request to leave Kodiak ASAP before thoughts of Nolee wrecked his head again. He’d moved on, damn it. Today was a minor setback. A brief reminder of what could have been. Nothing more.

Three hours later, after catching the ferry back to Air Station Kodiak, he hung from a diving board at his base’s pool. He snapped off ten more pull-ups to complete his last set then let go, sinking to the bottom of the twenty-foot-deep end.

His body ached like he’d been hit by a truck and his chest burned. Sixty minutes of wind sprints, pull-ups and sit-ups. Another thirty jogging the track. An hour swimming. He should have exorcised his craving for Nolee by now. He gritted his teeth and pushed back against the instinct to surge to the top and drag air into his lungs. He stared up at the waving blue surface and envisioned the way she’d kissed him, her passionate response. She’d wanted him.

And he’d wanted her.

A swoosh sounded to his right as the shape of another service member plunged in beside him. Without missing a beat, the man shot him a quick middle finger then zipped to the surface, churning up the water with a lightning-fast crawl.

Anderson.

The newbie swimmer whose high-profile jeopardized mission three months ago had put the air station on alert and prompted them to assign Dylan to Kodiak to prevent more mishaps.

Sure. The commander had fed Dylan a line or two to sweeten the raw deal he had no choice but to accept. Claimed they needed his expertise on these treacherous waters. Felt he could impart that knowledge to Anderson and rebuild the guy’s shaken confidence. Promised they’d approve Dylan’s transfer request after Anderson redeemed himself.

So now, three months in, the cocky FNG was interrupting his solo workout and challenging him? The hell with that.

Using his thigh muscles, he shot off after the greenhorn, his elbows jetting out of the water, his pointed fingers reaching, driving, cleaving through the pool. Feet and legs kicking powerfully behind him. His fatigue dropped away and he raced, pushing hard, until he caught up to Anderson on the third lap. They swam side by side for twenty minutes, then pulled up.

Anderson shook his head, sending droplets flying, and reached for the water bottle he’d left on the side of the pool. “Shit. Thought I had a chance of beating you since you’d been in here awhile.”

“I was just warming up, asshole.” Dylan drained the last of his own water.

“Heard about the Pacific Sun. Seven survivors.” Anderson whistled. “And they have that hot female captain, right? Is she single?”

“No,” Dylan said through his teeth. Nolee hadn’t mentioned her relationship status and, of course, it was no damn business of his whether or not she’d stayed with Craig. But even in Anderson’s wildest dreams, Nolee was out of his league.

“Hey!” Anderson threw out his hands as if to ward off the blow Dylan contemplated landing on him. “No offense.”

“Just keep it professional,” Dylan snapped, hating the surge of possessiveness he had no right to feel. That damn kiss had kicked off all the wrong instincts in his brain. “How was patrol?”

Anderson hopped up on the side of the pool and dangled his legs in the water. “Northern Lights set a string in restricted waters. They were already correcting it when we came upon them. No excitement.”

Dylan joined him and together they performed dips, lowering themselves, triceps flexing, into the pool, then pushing up again, and again. “You’ll get plenty more once I’m gone,” Dylan grunted as he repeated the move.

Now that Anderson was back in his fins with several successful rescues under his belt, and another swimmer had joined their SAR team as well, they could afford to approve Dylan’s transfer request. Despite the promise from the higher-ups, however, he knew better than to count on it until he saw the damn thing.

“You have leave coming, right?” asked Anderson through gritted teeth, a vein appearing at his temple as he muscled through this set of twenty.

“A month. After that, I’m hoping I get a new assignment.”

With this being an out-of-rotation-year move, he’d have to wait until a stateside RS position opened up.

“Can’t say I’ll miss you,” Anderson said before disappearing beneath the surface and shooting along the bottom for the underwater swim portion of the workout.

“Me, neither,” Dylan said to himself, thinking of Nolee, wondering if that were true.

Seeing her again messed with his mind, but she’d been right about one thing. He would seek out his family before he left Kodiak, just not the family she was thinking of. His parents had never had much use for him. His uncle, however, who’d nurtured his love of the sea, was on his list of people to see before he spent another decade away from Alaska. Dylan missed the old guy.

And, as an added benefit, spending a weekend with his uncle would ensure he wouldn’t be tempted to cross paths with Nolee anytime soon.

3

“SO YOU’LL GIVE me another chance?” Nolee leaned forward on one of The Outboard’s pub tables the following evening, nearly toppling a couple of the empty beer bottles littering its sticky surface. Restless energy tap-danced in her veins. Made the balls of her feet bounce.