Page 123 of Sucker For You

Erin had sent the news via a gleeful postcard that Chase had been fired from UCSF Medical Center for malpractice. When they’d resupplied theNauti Thalassaand picked up a stronger internet signal in Heraklion, Isabel and Wes had learned that BioPulse’s satellite facility had closed due to health-and-safety and environmental regulation violations. Given the company’s plans to initiate human trials with a medication known to cause brain damage in its animal test subjects, BioPulse Pharmaceuticals was under federal investigation for premeditated criminal negligence, as well. Plus, the San Francisco Medical Center had notified Isabel that its Phase Three clinical trial for Ceretobicin had been completed successfully; the drug was approved for commercial use.

Everything is—good.

Still smiling, she sneaked a look back toward the younger Monaghans roughhousing on the grass while Lori and Robert enjoyed their deconstructed picnic. She nodded at Ethan and Bunsen (the dog had either soft cheese or gull guano painting his muzzle) when they approached to join her by the sea wall.

“I had to drag him away before he scarfed down the whole peanut-butter jar.” Amusement tucked an answering smile into Ethan’s cheek. “But we can leave you alone, if you want the quiet.”

“I don’t mind.”

“That’s good, because. . .” he echoed her glance at the exuberant chaos, shrugging, his smile deepening, “welcome to the family.”

“Is it always like this?”

“Are the Monaghans always like this? Based on my extant personal data, there’s actually less hot sauce than usual—except, no, Adrian’s found a bottle somewhere, but—”

“No, I mean:family.”

“Family?God, I hope so,” and his smile split into a grin as Erin came sprinting away from the picnic green, shouting that she’d escaped with a chocolate strawberry. Adrian was in pursuit. “Wait,shit—”

Isabel couldn’t help laughing when Ethan ran off to intercept the sister and brother, to help one and hinder the other. But which? Maybe even he didn’t know.

Maybe it didn’t matter.

What mattered was Wes: sauntering over to her in his siblings’ wake, winking while he offered up a smudged but very edible berry that he’d stolen from the other Monaghans and the dog.Pirate. She bit into the sweet treat. He took advantage of the chocolate smeared across her lips to coax her close, to nibble and kiss away the mess, which was even sweeter. Then he drew back to brush his mouth over a curl of ink on the fourth finger of her left hand.

A ship’s anchor formed the center stone of her tattooed wedding circlet. The band was a delicately rendered octopus arm.

She’d chosen this ring for both of them, and wore it with pride.

“Sorry about the family’s ambush,” Wes said, raising his head. “You all right?”

Okay, she signed. “Yes.”

“Good. I know we’d planned on a few weeks of shore leave before we make bubbles for the Great Barrier Reef”—they needed to sign some offboarding paperwork at UCSF to finishher medical trial, then visit MORI to see Dr. Solomon’s new pearl-octopus nursery, Isabel’s volunteer friends, and to hand off some data originals, and finally fly to Grand Arbor for the holidays—“but still: even if you’re all right, if youdowant to dock and roll out of here now, I know someone with a boat, and a Jeep—”

“I’m really fine, Wes.” More laughter tickled her throat. Not nausea from rough sea swells, just joy. Her palm skimmed her stomach.

We’re fine.

“We can do better thanfine, though, can’t we?” He cradled her nearer to kiss her a second time, and a third.

Flash.

A thousand kilometers away, or maybe over at the picnic green, cameras blazed: tourists snapping photos of the Golden Gate Bridge before the fog rolled in, or Adrian admitting defeat in his race against Erin, trading his hot-sauce bottle for his phone, wolf-whistling while he captured their silhouettes against the water. Isabel only tugged Wes closer, her smile wider and brighter and richer than the sun-spangled sea, and—

Brrrriiinng!

“Hellno. Not again.” Wes fumbled for his own phone and wound up to chuck it into the bay.

“Wait!” She caught his wrist. “Shouldn’t you at least see who’s calling?”

“I don’t care. We’re off duty.”

But the caller ID read:Wildlife Photographic.

Wildlife Photographicwas the most prestigious magazine in his field.

“You should take it,” she urged him.