Radclyffe - Wild Shores

Austin punched the hazard button and lights flashed on the dash. “I hope we’ve got tools.”

Gem opened the large glove compartment and sorted through what was there. “Manual. Rental papers. No flashlight.”

“There has to be a spare and a jack,” Austin said. “I’ll go take a look.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You might as well stay in here. There’s no point both of us getting drenched.”

“Visibility is terrible,” Gem said. “I don’t want you outside working without some way to warn other vehicles. At least I can use the light on my phone to signal that we’re out there.”

“Let me assess the damage first. Then we’ll go from there.”

“Promise you won’t try to fix it by yourself.”

Austin sighed. “Has anyone ever mentioned you tend to be pretty stubborn?”

Gem smiled. “That would not be a news flash. Now, promise?”

“Promise. Two minutes.”

“I’m counting.”

Austin slipped outside, leaving her alone in the silence with nothing but the metronomic flicker of the hazard lights and her own confounding thoughts. The fog sat against the windows, pressing in like a malevolent force. She shook away the foreboding. She’d never been afraid of the dark, never been afraid of the unknown. The only thing she truly feared was falling victim to her own desires, and being wrong again.

The rear hatch opened and when she looked back, a shadow moved in the gray mist. Austin. “All right?”

“Fine. Just be another minute.”

After what seemed like fifteen minutes rather than one, Austin tapped on the side window and Gem powered it down. Rainwater blew in, dampening her hair and face. She pushed wet strands away from her face. “How is it?”

“It’s flat all right. We’ve got a new spare and tools. We’re well enough off the road that I think I can change it safely. It’s gonna be messy and will probably take me some time. It’s a mudslide on the shoulder.”

“You think Triple A is out of the question?”

“On a day like this? They’re going to be so busy dealing with fender benders and breakdowns, we could be sitting here for hours. It’s just a flat. I’ve changed plenty.”

“I can’t say I’m an expert at it, but I take direction pretty well. I’ll help.”

Austin’s hair was soaked, lying in thick, dark slashes across her forehead. Her shirt was plastered to her chest, clinging to muscles and the curve of her breasts. Water dripped from her chin and the angles of her jaw. She was gorgeous. Gem swallowed and steadied her voice. “It’ll go faster with me helping.”

“I’m already soaked. Really, there’s no point in both of us—”

“I’m coming.” Gem grasped the handle and pushed open the door an inch. “Let’s get this done.”

“You win.” Austin stepped back and caught Gem around the waist as she jumped out. “Watch your step, okay? The shoulder slopes away right behind us and I can’t tell how far down it goes.”

The rain pelted Gem’s face, an icy blast that startled her with its ferocity. The storm was coming in harder than she’d expected. She gripped Austin’s waistband to steady herself. “I’m good now.”

“Come on.” Austin offered her hand and, for the second time in less than an hour, Gem took it. The action felt as natural as anything she’d ever done, and as rare. She couldn’t remember the last time she had touched anyone with such a feeling of rightness.

Austin led her back along the side of the vehicle. She’d left the hatch up and directed Gem in front of it. “You can duck underneath if the rain gets too bad.”

“Do you have a rain slicker?” Gem asked, zipping her windbreaker.

“In my bag, but I might as well save it at this point. I’m already drenched.”

“You’re going to freeze.”

“Don’t worry,” Austin said. “I’ve been out for a lot longer than this in plenty of worse places.”

Gem wanted to ask what she meant. But she had more important things to do. Like keep them from being hit while they were stopped. She pressed the light icon on her phone. “I only have a half charge.”

“You should save it. I’ll be okay.”

“At least let me hand you tools.”

“Only if you stay out of the road. I don’t want some jackass to come plowing along and hit you.”

Her concern, and her possessive tone, brought heat rushing to Gem’s skin and kindled a slow burn in deeper places. She brushed the damp hair from Austin’s cheek. Her face was hot, her eyes blazing. Gem had the insane urge to kiss her. She swallowed hard. “I’ll be careful.”

But she feared it was already too late for that.

Chapter Five

Austin wrenched off the last lug nut and held it out in Gem’s direction. Water trailed down the middle of her back and pooled in the hollow of her spine. Her pants were sodden. Her shirt adhered to her skin like a cloying lover. She was a mess, but she’d gotten the damn thing off. “Here you go.”

“Got it.”

Gem’s fingers slid over hers, hotter than they should be considering the freezing, driving rain. Maybe she was just imagining the rush of warmth traveling up her chilled extremity from the brief touch. Just like she’d imagined the heat in Gem’s eyes, gleaming in the glow of the taillights a few minutes before. The memory of that heat was enough to cast out the cold as she knelt in the mud, cranking the jack under the big, heavy SUV. Thinking about Gem kept her mind off all kinds of things, things she probably should be spending a lot more time worrying about. Like what was happening out in the ocean on Rig 86, and whether the oil had sheened the ocean surface. If that happened, they’d have to contact the authorities and begin ocean- and shore-containment procedures. She kept expecting her phone to vibrate—Eloise chasing her down, wanting to know where the hell she was. Since she had no way of changing any of that right then, her guilt about wanting to think only of Gem eased a little. Who could blame her for wanting to quell her misery by daydreaming about a beautiful woman who was amazing in every way? Gem’s enthusiasm, her joie de vivre, her humor, and those flashes of heat that came from nowhere and seemed to surprise her as much as Austin were the stuff dreams were made of.

Too bad not all of her secret pleasure was guilt free.

She doubted Gem would look at her the way she did if she knew of her other job, even though it was legitimate and necessary. Yes, she was hired to avoid bad press for the company, but minimizing civilian panic and averting economic instability were essential too. Sure, she was paid to keep a lid on the bad press, but she was also paid to prevent rumor and escalations of doom that could literally destabilize the world. No one wanted stock markets plunging at word of offshore oil leaking and potentially costing billions of dollars when it might not come to pass. When and what news to release to the world wasn’t her call alone, but her technical input was a big part of it, and she was the wall between the press and what was happening behind the scenes. Eloise and her bosses were too smart and too scrupulous to subvert the law, but within the bounds of the law, they protected the company. And why shouldn’t they? Much of the world depended on the oil business too.

“Not that that would matter to Gem,” Austin muttered as she yanked off the wheel and leaned it against the side of the SUV. She doubted Gem would have much sympathy for big corporations. Too many true disasters—pipeline ruptures, well failures, transport ship leaks—had caused countless wildlife deaths and contamination of waters and marshlands and beaches throughout the world to argue that the oil industry hadn’t damaged the environment. She couldn’t argue against those facts. They existed too. She’d known a lot of people like Gem, people devoted to the sanctity of the environment and its inhabitants, who’d made it their life’s work to protect it. She respected the work they did and tried to walk the thin line between protecting her client’s interests and preserving the integrity of nature. She believed her job was necessary, or she wouldn’t do it. The fact that her parents appreciated the risk involved, and approved of her work, never mattered. Much.