Page 40 of Finding Elodie
“Did you catch anything?” she asked.
“Yeah. A big-ass marlin. Aleck’s friend was the pilot, and he sliced us each a big filet and he’s keeping the rest,” Pid said.
“Cool,” Elodie said.
“You like fish?” Mustang asked her.
“Hate it,” she answered immediately.
Everyone was taken aback for a moment, then Slate said, “But you work on a charter fishing boat.”
“I do,” Elodie agreed with a small smile. “I couldn’t afford to be picky when I was looking for a job. And there’s no requirement I have to eat what the clients catch. I have no problem being around the fish, helping to bring them onboard and things like that, but I don’t think I’ll ever grow into liking to eat anything that comes from the ocean.”
“You’re a chef?” Pid asked with a frown.
“I am,” Elodie agreed. “But where in the chef handbook does it say you have to like everything you cook?”
“She’s got you there,” Mustang said with a smile. She’d stepped away from him as they’d talked to his teammates, but he kept his hand on the small of her back. A part of him felt as if she’d disappear once more if he didn’t keep her within reach. It was ridiculous, but he was so relieved to see her again, to have her there, that he wasn’t going to fight his instincts.
She was still dealing with something, and until he knew what it was, and what demons he needed to slay, he’d stick as close to her as he could. There was always the possibility she’d up and leave again if she got too scared, so he wanted to do what he could to mitigate that possibility.
Despite no contact whatsoever, the two months since he’d seen her had somehow made him feel even closer to Elodie. It made no sense whatsoever. But he’d played back their entire encounter on the Asaka Express over and over in his mind. And he’d become even more impressed with what she’d done. How she’d acted. It was crazy, but he’d always been a man to act on his instincts, and right now they were telling him Rachel Walters—or Elodie Winters—was a woman who would be worth getting to know.
“Are we gonna stand out here baking in the sun all day or what?” Slate grumbled.
Mustang couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. Leave it to Slate to get them all moving. Whoever he ended up with would have to have the patience of a saint.
As natural as breathing, Mustang took Elodie’s hand in his and started walking toward Aleck’s car. He said goodbye to the rest of his teammates and opened the back door to Aleck’s yellow Jeep. They’d given him shit about it, but Aleck always said that he liked the color, that it kept others from hitting him because there was no way they could miss him driving alongside or in front of them. He probably had a point, but they still liked to rag on him about the bright color.
Once he had Elodie settled, Mustang walked around to the other side of the Jeep and climbed into the back seat next to her.
After Aleck put their bags in the back storage area, he got behind the wheel and grumped, “Great, now I look like a chauffeur or something.”
“Home, James,” Elodie quipped, then blushed as if she’d forgotten where she was and who she was with.
Mustang loved that she felt comfortable enough around him and his friends to tease. Her personality seemed different here. Bigger. More relaxed. He’d always thought Hawaii was good for the soul, and that was obviously the case for Elodie. She was still stressed and still had some pretty deep secrets, but he liked this side of her. The sun and sand fit her much better than the dark and dank lower decks of the cargo ship she’d been hiding out on.
Mustang couldn’t keep his gaze from flicking repeatedly to Elodie as Aleck drove toward his apartment. He was grateful his friend kept the conversation flowing, as he couldn’t do much beyond staring at the woman next to him.
By the time they pulled up to his place, Mustang had no idea what they’d talked about, but since Elodie seemed relaxed and happy, he didn’t really care.
“Mustang? Can I have a minute?” Aleck asked.
He really didn’t want to leave Elodie alone for even a second, but he nodded anyway.
“I’ll just wait over there,” Elodie told him, indicating a patch of shade under a tree near the entrance to the apartment complex.
“Okay. Elodie?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t worry.”
She snorted. “Scott, I’ve been one big ball of worry for months now. I’m not scared of what you and your friend are going to talk about. I’m more worried about you—any of you—getting involved in my issues and having it come back to bite you in the ass.”
Her words just made him like her all the more. A lot of people would jump at the chance to let a team of Navy SEALs take on their problems, but not Elodie. He had a feeling she’d do what she could to downplay whatever was going on just to try to keep them safe.
Fuck that.
