Page 48 of Ruining His Smirk

In private.

13

Nate

Several hours later, I found myself in the ship’s lounge with one of my favorite novels, a blanket over my legs, dressed in my PJs, and a mug of warm tea. The lounge had deep chairs arranged around low tables and built-in bookshelves covering most of one wall. There were thrillers, old histories, field guides, biographies, and several shelves of novels with cracked spines. Evening sunlight flooded through the rows of windows. My favorite part was the massive fireplace in the middle. It was electric, but it still made the space feel cozy.

A handful of people were scattered around the room. Two crew members were playing cards in low voices near the far wall.

I shifted, and my ribs immediately protested. Keith had confirmed there were no fractures, only bruising, and I was cleared to return to work the next day. Landry had been released shortly before me. He had left the medical bay without a word to anyone.

That had been several hours ago, and I had not seen him since. I had taken a long nap, eaten lunch, and overall felt remarkably good. The barb in my heart had gone away.

I didn’t know why Landry had jumped after me, but he had. And even while almost drowning, his first concern had been me.

That was not a man who made empty declarations. He and I may not ever get on the same page, but I couldn’t find it in myself to dislike him anymore. I still couldn’t understand why he had called me a cheater, but except for that one time, if I was honest, he didn’t treat me like a pretty face. It had been days of us working together. At no point had he acted like one of my exes. The fact that he actually took a swing at me was, in a twisted way, reassuring. You didn’t punch someone you thought was fragile. You punched your equal.

I lifted my tea and took a sip. I would just maintain a cordial distance and… just forget about him after he left. My stupid heart could pine all it wanted.

The lounge door opened, and the younger Landry burst inside. He looked deeply unsettled. His mouth was drawn into a tight line, and both hands were clasped together in front of him. I had taken a liking to the youngster. His enthusiasm and unfiltered energy were infectious.

Dexter scanned the room, spotted me, and came directly over.

Uh-oh. I set down my mug.

He stopped in front of my chair. “Can I please talk to you in private?”

“Of course.”

I pushed the blanket aside and stood, trying not to wince when my ribs protested.

“That corner okay?” I pointed.

He nodded. We moved toward the bookshelves and into the farthest corner of the lounge, partially screened from the rest of the room by a tall cabinet containing old expedition journals.

Dexter turned to face me. “I’m about to commit a crime.”

My eyebrows rose. “And you have chosen to confess it to me,” I said. “Why?”

“Because you are the reason I have to commit this crime.”

Christ almighty. I studied him more carefully. Despite the absurdity of the declaration, he looked genuinely distressed.

“All right,” I said slowly. “I suppose I have to listen to this, then.”

“You broke my brother, and you have to fix him.”

My jaw dropped. Oh, boy. Then a small, helpless smile pulled at my mouth.

“I don’t think your brother would agree with that assessment.”

Dexter shook his head so vehemently that his hair shifted across his forehead.

“My brother used to be absolutely stable and perfect until you came into his life.”

“I am—”

“I thought for the last year that his obsession was only because he was stuck on what happened between you two.” Dexter’s words began coming faster now, his tightly controlled distress breaking through. “He talked about you all the time, but he was angry, and anger is something I understand with Garrett. He gets angry, he explodes, then he cools down and goes back to being normal.”