Exhale (8 page)

She laid the cantilever down. “We won’t be done until late, and we have a ton of work to do afterward. Maybe some other time.”

Adriene dismissed Zoe with a wave of her hand and did a boob jiggle thing. “Where do you want to meet?”

Fine. Let her have her way. But Zoe wasn’t going.

You have a promotion to win. Eyes on the prize, Morgan.

Mike glanced at his buddies, then leaned his elbows on the railing of his boat. “There’s a pub just north of the harbor on the main road called The Whale & Whistle. What time will you be done?”

Adriene straightened. “Should be back at the harbor around six. But we won’t have time to change…”

“No worries.” Mike grinned. The other two guys laughed, but Gavin remained silent, his arms folded over his chest and jaw clenched.

Damn it. That beautiful line of tension in his cheek was almost enough to change Zoe’s mind. She looked down at the rigid hull under her toes and swallowed.

Best to let it go.

Restarting the motor, Adriene returned Mike’s smile. “We’ll see you soon.”

A sharp zap of regret invaded Zoe’s gut, and she clenched her stomach. She had a hundred reasons to go home after work—all of them justified. She was in Australia for the whales, which would only be here until November. Every moment counted. A distraction like Gavin Cassidy would kill her career, and she’d worked too damn hard to jeopardize her place at the front of the Vice President line.

She raised her chin and snuck a glance his way. The frown he wore softened his features, revealing breathtaking vulnerability despite the clear strength his body possessed.

She’d dreamt about him last night, for the first time in days. He had held her, smelled her hair, smiled like the man she knew intimately in her dreams, yet not at all in reality.

Lover or stranger, he was a gorgeous temptation.

Still staring, he dropped his tattooed arms to his sides, exposing that ripped, tanned chest. Butterflies lit in her stomach. She doused them with a lethal dose of practicality, climbed around to the driver’s seat, and nudged Adriene out of the way.

Dreams were the only place she could have a guy like him.

“Come on, ladies. Time to tag some more whales.”

Chapter Six

At The Whale & Whistle a few hours later, Gavin sighed loudly, interrupting Mike’s retelling of an incident he wished he could forget from one of the many sex-fueled parties at the Cave. Though he loved Mike like a brother, the clueless fucker needed to learn when to shut up.

Gavin checked his watch. Eight o’clock. Jack was probably waiting on his doorstep. He pushed out of his chair.

“Where are you going, mate?” Mike said.

“Meeting someone. I’ll see you blokes at rehearsal tomorrow. Nice to meet you, ladies.” He nodded at Adriene, Dani, and Elizabeth and made for the exit, mentally kicking himself for wasting the night, hoping like a dickhead Zoe would show up.

What should he do about her? He’d driven by Zoe’s house every chance he got over the last few days and scoped the neighborhood. He hadn’t sensed any Fyres there, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching her. He’d try keeping an eye on her through the Dreaming tonight while he trained. He could always use the excuse of practicing what Jack had taught him if he questioned Gavin’s inability to focus.

Outside the pub, the warm air hung heavy with humidity. Since all the upset over the sleep-related deaths last week, he’d paid closer attention to the news. The bizarre winter heat wave gripping Queensland, New South Wales, and Victoria had been the top story for a few days now.

Drought had always been a problem in Australia, but in the last month, it had intensified. Wild fires, water rationing—even deaths from heatstroke—were commonplace. The newsreaders claimed it was a sign of the times, what with global warming and pollution and shit, but he recognized it for what it was: the Fyres gaining strength in the absence of a strong Wæter Elemental defense.

Faced with the dilemmas of how to assist the Wæters with finding their Archelemental, how to protect the woman who wanted nothing to do with him from the Fyres, and how to snuff the nagging desire holding his brain hostage every time he so much as thought of her, Gavin wished he had a cigarette. Might make him feel better for the three and a half minutes it took to smoke one, but he couldn’t even catch a break there.

Seemed like every day, increasing levels of suckage bled through the intersecting planes of his personal, professional, and Sentinel worlds.

He stepped out of the circles of white illuminating The Whale & Whistle’s door and into the shadows on the side of the building. Adriene had said Zoe was on her way to pick the girls up. He wanted to stay, maybe try again to talk her into a date, but he was already late to meet Jack and shouldn’t make him wait any longer.

Looked like another night without her. Watching her in the Dreaming might make him feel better about her safety, but it was no substitute for the real thing.

A pair of headlights swung around, flash-freezing his shadow against the brick wall behind him. A Land Rover with a Cetacean Research Network bumper sticker on the back end. The driver parked the car on the street.

Zoe.

She didn’t get out.

So, she wanted to force his hand. If he waited for her, he’d look desperate. If he left, he’d seem uninterested. He was fucked either way. But maybe if he stopped at her car on the way to his own, he could—

The door opened, and she stepped out. Locking eyes onto his, Zoe stomped up, planted herself in front of him, and put hands on her hips. Her hair was damp, and a flowery scent clung to her skin. She had on dark shorts that landed mid-thigh, a CRN tee shirt, and a pair of thongs on her feet. Under the cover of the building’s shadow, she stared at him expectantly, the blue of her eyes brilliant even in the poor light.

He donned his cockiest smile and pulled the keys out of his pocket. “How’re you going?”

“What the
hell
were you doing, following me today?” The accusation in her voice whacked him in the front of the head like a shovel.

Maybe his smile gun misfired. He held his ground, forcing himself not to flinch. “You won’t agree to a date, you wouldn’t give me your phone number…what would you have me do?”

“I don’t know. How about leave me alone?”

“That doesn’t work for me.”

She crossed her arms. Her cheeks darkened to an angry shade of pink, and her skin glistened under the dim streetlights. “Don’t follow me again. You got in the way of my whales, Gavin. You don’t do that. Ever. First of all, it’s very dangerous for everyone involved, especially the whales. Secondly, you’re interfering with my job when you pull that kind of crap. And last, but not least, I don’t want you advertising your intentions—whatever they may be—to the people I work with. It’s just not cool.”

“Then give me an alternative.” He softened his voice. “I don’t give up easily.”

The warm wind picked up her hair, and brought the smell of flowers to him. Lavender. He inhaled deeply. Jesus.

Her face turned up to his. Perfect angle for kissing. “I don’t want to go out with you.”

“I think you do.”
Hoped
she did. He shot her another crooked smile. “You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”

She narrowed her beautiful blues on him. “Careful, Captain Delusional, your god complex is showing.”

He took two steps closer, herding her toward the wall with his body. “God complex, yes. Delusional, no. You definitely want to go out with me.” Hidden under the tough exterior, pinkish-orange swirls in her aura betrayed her uncertainty.

Straightening, she put her back to brick and dropped both arms to her sides. Her jaw tensed, muscles quivering. Threads of red desire wove through the coral-colored aura and began a slow take-over. Maybe he was finally getting through to her.

“I’m sorry if we upset your work. We didn’t want you to get clobbered by that whale.”

“The whale wouldn’t have hurt anyone. He was just a little grumpy.” Her eyes glittered in the darkness, and she poked his chest as if to push him away. He didn’t budge. “Three hundred meters like all the other law-abiding citizens, okay?”

He took a chance and closed with another step. “Three hundred meters is a long distance, and my eyesight isn’t that great.”

He glanced around the street but didn’t see anyone nearby. “All I’m asking for is a date.” Bending toward her, he lowered his voice. “No expectations. Just one night with you.”

She pulled back, her expression unsure, and he pushed forward, chasing her lips. She turned her head before he could tag her.

“Watch it, slim,” she threatened, but a crack in her voice and the red blush in her aura betrayed her desire.

She wanted this. Holy hell, he did too.

He could have pushed it—tried coercing her into his bed with sweet talk like he’d done to a hundred women before her. It might have even worked. But some primitive part of him thrilled over the prospect of her submitting to him on her own terms. “You’re a cold woman, Zoe Morgan.”

“You have no idea.” The jut of her chin and the hardness in her gaze didn’t deter him.

“I guess my challenge is working out how to melt you.” He shifted his weight but remained planted in her personal space, pinning her to the wall with nothing but his stare.

“You can’t melt stone.” Her gaze slid past his shoulder, and her leg twitched in a bouncy rhythm.

Taking her chin with a thumb and index finger, he turned her face back to his. “
Everything
has a melting point. I’m eighty percent sure I can get you to yours.”

An audible swallow tagged his ears as she met his eyes. The leg stopped bouncing. Her aura reddened even more. “Why only eighty? Why not ninety-five or ninety-nine?”

“What works on other women doesn’t apply to the likes of you, so eighty seems more realistic.”

Her smoldering gaze dropped to his lips. “I think you’re over-estimating.”

Absorbing the rest of her shadow into his, he knuckled the wall on either side of her head, trapping her in the cage of his arms, but not touching. The cool, sweaty bricks ground into his skin. She shivered and flattened her hands as if clinging to the wall for protection. Fire flared low in his gut, spurring him on.

His lips hovered within an inch of striking distance, drawing a line and daring her to cross it. He breathed onto the air above her mouth. Heat reflected off her, a maddening taunt.

“You’re wicked beautiful, but don’t you dare try to kiss me,” he whispered, his lips bumping hers so lightly he wasn’t sure they actually had. “I can’t be held responsible for any damages that might be incurred.”

Red-faced, she gasped, then raised her chin. Defiance poured off her. “I wasn’t trying—”

“No, of course you weren’t.” He cocked his head to the side, slid a hand up her trembling arm. A mental sip of Air was the only thing holding him back. It would have been so easy to succumb to the blazing Fire testing his control, but he couldn’t do that to her.

Her terms, remember?

He liberated some Water from his heart to cool himself down, dropped his hands, and smiled at the bewildered expression on her face. With another pull of Air and a jiggle of his keys, he found the strength to leave her for his car.

“Tell me something,” she called after him.

He turned around, gnawing the inside of his cheek. Her normal coloring had returned, aura had fallen back into the yellow spectrum, and a haughty smirk replaced whatever uncertainty had lurked behind her eyes only a second ago. How did she compose herself so fast? After the near-kiss, he could barely keep from popping wood.

“When you’re playing guitar, does your hand ever get tired of going up and down like that?” She made a wanking motion.

He glanced at his right hand and laughed. The smart arse in her topped up the desire in the pit of his stomach. “Believe me, this thing’s been getting plenty of exercise since I met you. A simple ‘yes’ would make both of our lives a lot easier.”

A grin spread slowly across her lips. “I’m gonna stick with my original answer.”

God, he loved the way she toyed with him. Such a tease. He shrugged. “Your loss.”

She swung her head around when her fingers landed on the door handle to the pub. “By the way, a guy from
Hervey Bay News
called to set up an interview with me today.” She paused, and the hard lines in her face softened. “Thanks.”

He could almost hear the ice cracking.

“My pleasure, Dr. Morgan.”

Looked like he had an eighty-five percent chance of melting her now. He smiled after her as she walked into the pub without turning back.

* * * *

Lily’s heart raced.
Too hot. Too hot.

Another jolt of pain ripped through her, this one descending harder and faster than the ones before. She exhaled a blast of air just below the water’s surface and trembled. The cool ocean cradling her exhausted body did nothing to ease her suffering. She thrashed against the waves, her long pectoral flippers crashing everywhere—the water, the air, her own flesh.

Writhing against the natural progression, she braced herself as muscles clenched and pushed without her permission. The movement inside had slowed. Just a few more minutes. She could do this. It would be over soon.

She rolled onto her back but still couldn’t get comfortable. She righted herself. Another breath. Waiting for the next wave to strike…

When it did, she was ready. Flexing her flukes up, then pumping them down in a swift kick, she squeezed with all her might.

The dam burst.

Blood reddened the water as the heavy burden wriggled tail first, out and away, leaving her empty inside. Desperate to find her baby, she twisted her too-slow body around, but she couldn’t see anything through the crimson cloud. She called out to him with a long, upsweeping note, followed by a short one.

No answer.

She repeated the pattern two more times.

Reaching out with both flippers, she searched the currents for movement.

Nothing.

She bellowed another high-pitched call. Sharp movement wrinkled the water on her left. Too fast to be a newborn calf.