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He paused. The rest of the crew waited. Finally, Jason looked up, and there was a shy smile on his face, too. “And maybe I’ll get a new truck,” he said.

“Sure you will.” Nelson slapped him on the back. “A really big truck, my friend. This calls for a celebration!”

“Heck yeah, it does,” McKenna said. “Find us a decent restaurant, and the best-looking bar on the island. Dinner’s on me tonight, gang.”

• • •

LAUGHING AND JOSTLING, the crew disappeared belowdecks to their staterooms to dig out their fancy Sunday-go-meeting clothes and prepare for dinner. Work was over. Time to relax, to eat a steak and drink a beer, to shower and sleep and feel like a human being again.

Court Harrington hung back. He’d been quiet all day, kind of withdrawn, and McKenna felt the first tendrils of worry as she watched him. She’d come pretty damn close to opening up to him the other night, showed him more of herself than she liked, and she caught herself wondering what he was thinking about, if he’d seen what she’d showed him and was judging her for it.

Don’t be so self-absorbed. The job’s over, and the guy’s probably still in pain from that fall. He’s wondering how soon is too soon to book a flight out of here.

“I’ll get you on the next plane,” McKenna said, figuring to cut him off at the pass. “Find you a specialist wherever you want to go, everything on me.”

Harrington blinked. “A specialist?” he said. “No, I—”

“If it’s about the money, we still do it like my dad did,” McKenna told him. “Divvy it up, like on a fishing boat. The tugboat, the Gale Force, Gale Force Marine, whatever you want to call it, the company takes half. As the skipper, I take a double share of the rest. Crew gets a full share.”

“I don’t care about the money,” Harrington said. “Whatever you think is fair.”

“Eight shares total, including my two. Means your share—every share—is worth—”

“One point two five million dollars,” Harrington finished.

“That’s right. It’s not World Series of Poker money, but I hope it’s a decent consolation.”

“One million–plus is top nine, easy. And in case you forgot, I busted out of that tournament.”

“That’s the game,” McKenna said. “Here, just like Vegas. You bust out, you get nothing—and we bust out plenty. You win, you take your cut of the spoils.”

Harrington didn’t say anything.

“You’ll have to give me your bank information,” McKenna said, for nothing else than to keep the conversation going. “I’ll get the money to you as quick as I can, obviously.”

Harrington still said nothing. “You okay?” McKenna asked him.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Just trying to wrap my head around it, is all. I mean, I knew it was a big score, but…”

“It’s crazy,” McKenna agreed. “Like I said, this is the biggest job I ever pulled. Probably top ten for my dad, maybe even top five.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about the money,” he said. “I was going to—” He looked at her. “It just all happened so fast, right? Like, two weeks ago I was at a poker table, never thought I’d see you again. Now it’s like, what, we just go our separate ways?”

“There will be other jobs. You’re going to need some recovery time, I bet, but I have your number.”

He made a face. “That’s it? ‘I have your number’?”

McKenna shrugged again. Didn’t know what he wanted, didn’t know how to give it to him. Couldn’t meet his eyes, either.

Then she had an idea, figured she might as well just run with it. “Wait here,” she said. She ducked downstairs and into her stateroom, dug out a bottle she’d been saving for a while, two glasses. Brought it all back to the wheelhouse.

“We don’t usually drink on my boat,” she told him as she handed him a glass, “but I bet they pour lots of champagne if you win the World Series of Poker.”

She popped the cork clumsily and filled his glass, then hers. Hesitated a moment, searching for words.

“To a job well done,” she said finally, holding her glass aloft, and he laughed at her, shaking his head, and she knew she’d picked the wrong words.

“That’s what you want to toast to?”

McKenna looked at him. Then her glass. “What do you suggest?”

“I don’t know,” Harrington said. “The way things were going, I was kind of hoping you were headed somewhere a little less professional.”

“Damn it.” She frowned. Fumbled. “Okay,” she said at last. “To renewed friendships. Is that better?”

Harrington smirked. “I guess it’ll have to do.”

He was close to her now. They touched glasses and drank, and he was still looking at her, and she realized with some alarm that he was about to try to kiss her. She straightened, backed away a little bit.

“Oh, shit,” she said. “I’m sorry. Don’t—you don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?”

His smile didn’t waver, and McKenna realized she didn’t really know why she was backing away from Harrington, realized there was a part of her that actually kind of wanted him to kiss her, even as the rest of her was screaming, Abort! Abort! Abort!

As it was, she was saved from a decision. Before she could answer Harrington, one way or another, there was a noise outside the wheelhouse, and McKenna looked past him to see Matsuda climbing the stairs from the afterdeck to the wheelhouse. The shipping executive peered in the window, saw McKenna, knocked lightly.

Harrington laughed. “Damn it,” he said. “That guy really needs to work on his timing.”

McKenna laughed, too. Thank god, she was thinking. Saved by the bell.

87

“Captain Rhodes.” Matsuda gave McKenna a smile as he let himself into the wheelhouse. Then he noticed Harrington. “Please, forgive my intrusion.”

McKenna glanced back at the champagne bottle, the empty glasses, felt herself start to blush. Busted, she thought. No way to hide it.

She cleared her throat. “No problem at all. What can I do for you?”

“I had another proposal I thought you might be interested in,” Matsuda told her. “No obligation, of course.”

“Of course.”

“We need to transport the Pacific Lion to Seattle,” Matsuda said. “We will unload the cargo there, and have the vessel inspected by a proper shipyard. Her engine is, of course, out of operation, and in any case, your Coast Guard would not permit us to sail the ship to Seattle ourselves.”

McKenna got it. “You need a tow.”

“We do. You’re the closest boat, and we’re confident in your capabilities. Gale Force Marine is my company’s first choice.”

McKenna thought about it. It was probably a ten-day tow to Seattle, she figured. McKenna had been hoping to get home fast, had imagined she was done with the Lion.

“We would pay a fair rate,” Matsuda continued. “You, your boat, and your crew, plus all expenses. Essentially, Captain Rhodes, you can write your own contract.”

The Gale Force did have to get home somehow. It would be a nice little bonus if the ride home wound up paying. Hell, McKenna thought. When did Dad ever turn down a job?

“I’ll have to check with my crew,” she told the executive. “But this sounds good to me.”

Beside her, Harrington raised his glass. “Consider one crew member on board already,” he said, and those green eyes sparkled at her again. “When do we leave?”