Radclyffe: Wild Shores

Chapter Three

“Wow,” Gem said as she pushed through the steamy revolving-glass doors and glanced the length of the diner. The counter was lined with mostly solitary men hunched over heaping plates of food and big ceramic mugs of coffee. The booths were filled with an assortment of people who looked as if they were desperate travelers like her and Austin, looking for some light, warmth, and food. A few families, scattered couples, and the occasional lone elderly individual, probably a local, filled the rest of the places. “This place is jammed. Where are all the cars?”

“I think they’re out there, you just can’t see them through the fog.” Austin pointed to a waitress clearing the table in the only empty booth and put her hand on Gem’s back. “Let’s grab that one.”

Gem tensed at the unexpected touch and headed down the aisle, imagining she could feel the heat of Austin’s palm on her skin. Which of course, she couldn’t possibly. All the same, when they reached the booth and Austin moved away, she missed the fleeting contact. She must have been imagining the proprietary nature of the gesture too. Dismissing the flight of fancy with a flicker of inward irritation, she pulled off her windbreaker and hung it on the curved iron hook attached to one of the wooden poles rising from the end of each bench. She slid onto the red vinyl seat, and Austin settled across from her. Austin had shed her jacket before she began driving and hadn’t bothered to put it on when they stopped. The shoulders of her shirt were damp from mist that was quickly turning to rain. “Do you think we’re going to be able to make it today?”

“I’m planning on it.” Austin pulled out her phone. She wasn’t just planning on it, she had to get to the coast and meet with Tatum. No matter what route she had to take. Well breaches were unpredictable. The whole scenario could change with every passing hour. The leak might already be contained, and she could turn around, once the weather cleared, and go home. That was the optimistic outlook. Or the breach could have widened and thousands of gallons of oil could be flooding the ocean right now. “If I can get a signal, I’ll check the weather. Maybe we can skirt around the front.”

Gem pulled out her own phone and started scrolling. “I don’t see a wireless connection in the diner—no surprise there, since I’m not altogether sure we haven’t wandered into Brigadoon—” Austin chuckled and the warm, deep peal touched off an unexpected thrill of pleasure Gem couldn’t quite define. Whatever the source of the heat unfurling in her middle, it was nice. Kind of scary nice. “My cell signal is pretty iffy too. Like, there and gone again. Mostly gone.”

“Same here,” Austin said grimly. Being out of contact had gotten to be a way of life. Some of the places she traveled for GOP, especially in Southeast Asia, did not have sophisticated broadband networks or any kind of cellular coverage. She was used to making decisions based on the info she had at hand, with or without input from the home front. That’s what they paid her for—to make decisions in the company’s interest. Their contract was a matter of trust, and her reputation, pride, and self-respect rested upon her upholding her duty to the company. Right now she was in the dark, and in the wind, and not a damn thing she could do about it. She slid her phone away. “Nothing to do but keep with the plan until we get some more intel. Then we’ll reassess.”

Gem regarded her thoughtfully. “I’m on board with that.”

A middle-aged brunette waitress appeared beside them in a tight black skirt, a low-cut silky white shirt that strained over full breasts, and a wraparound black nylon apron with deep pockets that held a pad, pens, a half dozen straws, and a handful of packets that were most likely sugar. “You two know what you’re having or do you want menus?”

Gem said, “Coffee.”

Her desperation must have showed because the waitress laughed, a deep earthy rumble that was unself-conscious and sexy all rolled into one. “Goes without saying.” She quirked an eyebrow at Austin. “You too?”

“Absolutely. And scrambled eggs and toast.”

“Got it. How about you, honey?” She directed her query to Gem, her eyes dancing and her generous mouth tilted into a teasing smile. “What have you got a hankering for?”

“Uh…blueberry pancakes and poached eggs. And coffee.” Gem hoped she didn’t sound like an infatuated teenager, which was how she felt. God, what was with her today—first an innocent, casual touch from Austin awakened her long-dormant libido, and now the waitress in a diner turned her into a gawking adolescent?

Still laughing, the waitress scrawled something on an old-fashioned order pad—no fancy computer terminals in sight—and headed toward the pass-through to the kitchen to hang their ticket on the line with half a dozen others.

Gem rubbed her eyes and muttered, “It must be the fog. It’s done something to my mind.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Austin remarked drily. “She’s pretty hot.”

“Stop.” Gem kept her eyes closed.

Now Austin laughed. “Your secret lust for sexy waitresses is safe with me.”

“Diners,” Gem said. “I love diners . Good plain food, lots of it, and fast service.”

“And don’t forget the waitresses,” Austin added.

“I won’t.” Opening her eyes, Gem grinned. “Now stop trying to divert my attention. Back to the small matter of graphic novels. I don’t recognize your name, so I’m guessing you use a pseudonym.”

“Twenty questions, huh?” Austin liked Gem’s persistence, and the spark in her eyes was captivating. She suspected whatever the object of Gem’s focus, she’d be relentless in her pursuit. For a heartbeat, she let herself imagine what that would be like—to have all of Gem’s contagious energy and intensity focused on her. As if she were all that mattered. That rarely happened to her—oh, she was used to being at the center of a woman’s attention, at least for the few moments when they played the game of chase and catch, but then she was always the chaser. Never the caught. Never, she suspected, the truly wanted.

“I bet you’re really good at what you do,” Austin said.

Gem’s brows rose. “I…I hope so. Why did you say that?”

“You don’t give up—and you enjoy discovery. That drive to know, to understand, must be important for someone doing research.”

“I can’t imagine why else anyone would do it,” Gem said. “Most of us spend years searching for an answer to a problem, and sometimes it never comes.”

“But you don’t quit.”

“Not yet,” Gem said lightly. “And you’re diverting again.”

“Like I said—you don’t quit.” Austin smiled ruefully. Considering what might be waiting for them on Rock Hill Island, Gem’s quick, inquisitive nature might be problematic. Gem would be watching the same reports of maritime wind and ocean currents as Austin, only Gem would be tracking the approach of the migratory birds while she would be charting the potential direction of spread of an oil spill. They’d probably be in an unknowing race against time to see who discovered it first, unless the spill was so large by the time she arrived, the company would be forced to go public. If Tatum’s first-response team could get containment lines in place and trap the oil or redirect it up the coast away from the sanctuary, she might have a chance to keep the whole thing under wraps. Then the world would never know—just another mechanical failure that happened and was handled all the time. And most importantly, Gem would never know she’d been lying to her almost since the start. Sins of omission, but sins all the same.

The storm was against her. Tatum and his crew were experts at containing spills, and Eloise was adept at managing the company’s official PR statements, but Tatum was blunt and oftentimes belligerent if challenged by those he considered to be opponents. He couldn’t be trusted to deal with the press on-site. If—more likely when—word got out, she needed to be on scene to defuse the situation. Otherwise they’d have environmentalists camping out onshore and a media storm the company paid her to prevent. She didn’t like thinking about Gem as one of those environmentalists who might be crying for blood, and it hadn’t happened yet. Right at that moment, there was nothing she could do to change what would happen. And she wanted to see the light in Gem’s eyes turned on her just a little while longer. “In the comics world, like it or not, testosterone rules. An androgynous name works better on the cover, so I went with a pen name.”