Page 30 of Ruining His Smirk

Then he looked at Dexter, and his expression transformed. With a big smile, he said, “You’ll be in the second Zodiac, Dex. Let’s go!”

Dexter whooped. Everyone, including my brother, bounded out of the data suite, leaving me behind alone.

* * *

For several seconds after the door closed behind everyone, I remained where I was. The data suite had emptied so quickly that the quiet left behind felt unnatural. I looked toward the door. Everybody else knew where they were going.

That was the part that got under my skin.

They knew what gear they needed, where the Zodiacs were launched, what to carry, what to expect. They had moved as one practiced unit without anybody needing to explain a damn thing.

I didn’t like feeling like the odd man out. All my life, I had been the man who knew how things fit together, how to fix broken systems. But this wasn’t my workshop. It wasn’t Waypoint or Texas.

Out here on this science ship, I didn’t know the first damned thing. I swallowed and looked toward the blinking red dot on the wall. Maybe I should never have come aboard this ship.

The door opened. Braddock stepped back into the room alone and closed the door behind him. He looked at me steadily for a long moment. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but I’m guessing it’s been some time since you were last out in a Zodiac.”

I stared at him, trying to see if he was gearing up for another fight. Was this a jab? Had he come back to needle me about my ineptitude?

But he seemed… different. His voice was careful.

I shifted my weight. “You could say that.”

He studied me another second. “Okay. And I’m also guessing field trips aren’t normally part of your work at Waypoint.”

I could have lied. For half a second, I considered it. But what would be the point? I could save my ego and still have no idea where to go.

“No,” I said. “They aren’t. I work in my garage on land. When someone needs something, they come to me. I design and build parts that don’t require me to go into the ocean.”

Braddock nodded once, as though I had confirmed something he already knew. “Yeah. That makes sense. This project is unusual. Most tradesmen don’t need to go out with the field teams. All right.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Then I’m going to assume you need someone to walk you through this.”

My spine stiffened before I could stop it. His eyes sharpened immediately.

“I’m not insulting you, Landry.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

His nostrils flared, and that part of me that seemed to perpetually want to duel with him responded. If he wanted to fight, I wouldn’t back down. But then he exhaled and glanced briefly toward the wall of screens. “I… I would feel shitty too if I had to be taught the basics by a guy I didn’t particularly care about. Look, I know you hate me. But I don’t want us wasting time arguing.”

He looked back at me. “If you’d rather I leave you to work it out yourself, I will.”

Something shifted low in my chest. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened them, I had put aside my feelings. “I need instructions,” I said. Then, because I had been raised this way, I added, “Thank you.”

The mask on Braddock’s face slipped. He looked surprised. But he quickly collected himself. “All right.”

He stepped farther into the room. “What are you wearing under your shirt?”

I choked on air. “Wh… What?”

My gaze dropped without permission to his chest. He was still wearing that pink-orange-salmon sweater, fitted close enough through the chest and arms that I had already spent far too much of the day imagining what was underneath it.

Braddock cleared his throat.

My head snapped up.

His mouth had curved. There it was. That damned smirk. His pale green eyes fucking twinkled. “I don’t know where your head went just now,” he said, “but I’m asking because we’re about to dress for open-water fieldwork in Antarctica.”

My face went hot. I glared at him.