The alarm went off way too early. Grant felt like he was on an assignment in the middle of a foreign country with the amount of sleep he’d been getting lately.
Callie was worth it though. Every moment of lost sleep. He reached across her to tap the snooze button on her phone just in case they fell back asleep. He nuzzled her neck next. “Time to get up,” he murmured. “You don’t want to miss the locks.”
She groaned. “It can’t be five-thirty already,” she complained. “How long did we even sleep? It seems like ten minutes ago you were fucking me into the headboard.”
He chuckled. “It was longer than ten minutes. I promise.” Not much, but at least a few hours. Four maybe.
Grant dragged himself out of bed and snagged shorts and a T-shirt from his bag against the wall. After putting them on, he opened the blinds. The sun was coming up, but it wasn’t so bright yet that it would blind them.
Callie rolled onto her back and blinked up at him. “Are you a morning person?” she grumbled.
He loved the way she didn’t try to cover herself. Three days ago she’d been a far more modest person who kept her breasts covered and flushed when he stared at her. This morning, the sheet was partially wrapped around one of her legs and up over her pussy, but her breasts were completely exposed to his gaze, and damn, he liked it.
“Grant. Stop staring at my tits. I asked you a question.” She was teasing. She couldn’t keep from smiling.
He leaned over the edge of the bed, set his hands on both sides of her, and met her gaze. “I am a morning person because I’ve been forced to be for many years. It’s not a habit I can break easily. I know you have a rule about sharing about our personal lives, but it can’t have escaped your attention that I was in the Navy.”
She nodded. “SEAL.”
His turn to nod. He wasn’t surprised. She knew stuff. He didn’t know why, but she did. “Now, as much as I love staring at your tits, baby, I don’t want you to be disappointed and miss a thing about the locks, so get your ass out of this bed and put some clothes on. We can grab some coffee and a muffin in the buffet and head for the front of the ship.”
Her smile was so fucking gorgeous. “Yes, sir.”
He chuckled. Deep. Or maybe it was more of a groan. Both. A laugh that turned into a groan. Shoving off the bed, he rolled her to her stomach and slapped her ass just hard enough to make her jump.
“Hey,” she shouted as she jumped to her feet. “That hurt.” She didn’t look like she was in pain though. In fact, she advanced on him, and kept coming until she had her naked body plastered against him, pressing him into the sliding glass doors. She ran her hands up his chest and around his neck before coming up on her toes and kissing him.
“You liked it,” he murmured against her lips.
“Maybe.” She spun around and headed for the bathroom, looking back over her shoulder at the last second. “Don’t get any ideas. I don’t have a spanking fetish.”
He laughed. “There are a lot of fetishes you didn’t have before you met me. I’m an influence.”
“A bad one,” she sassed as she stepped into the bathroom.
He stood there grinning. Damn, she was…everything. What the fuck was he going to do about it? This situation was getting out of control. He couldn’t imagine walking away from her.
Grant had a job lined up in Indiana, of all places. He had no real clue where she lived or even what she did. She had given him no indication she was interested in turning this into something more.
Callie had gone out of her way to point out that they weren’t behaving like their normal selves. They were both in vacation mode. Playing the role of lazy tourists.
But could they have uncovered a side of them they could take out more often and enjoy in real life? Maybe he could at least talk her into doing this again. They could be vacation partners. The sort of people who took off a week twice a year and spent that time traveling and fucking.
Sure. Right. That would work. Not.
Callie came back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, shorts and tank top on. Hair up in a messy bun he wanted to grab with his fist. She slipped on some sandals and stood. “Ready.”
Five minutes later they were in the buffet area, grabbing coffee and muffins. Five minutes after that, they were on the deck watching as the cruise ship approached the new locks that were located south of the old locks.
As they listened to the narration of what they were witnessing coming through the speakers, Grant wrapped his arms around Callie from behind and set his hands on the railing of the front end of the ship.
It was cloudy, which was nice because it kept the temperature down, and hopefully they wouldn’t get burned from the indirect sunlight.
“It’s so simple and yet so complicated at the same time,” Callie pointed out.
Grant had been through these locks before. On a naval ship. More than once. He was familiar with the way they worked. It wasn’t as fascinating to him. But watching her excitement was worth getting up early.
Hell, doing anything with her was worth getting up early.
Grant had his chin on Callie’s shoulder, enjoying the woman and the view, when her phone pinged in her pocket.
She stiffened and muttered, “Shit.” Taking a deep breath, she twisted her head to face him. “I have to take that.”
He furrowed his brow. Who the hell would be calling her at six in the morning with urgency? On her vacation.
He took a step back as she pulled her phone from her pocket. “Be right back.”
Oh. So, she was going to walk away to take this call. He watched her back as she moved quickly toward the back of the deck where fewer people were congregated. She had the phone to her ear in seconds. She paced for a few moments and then stopped moving. Frozen.
Grant’s heart rate picked up as she ran a hand through her hair. His skin was crawling with unease for no good reason. He had no idea what her phone call might be about. Perhaps she was an accountant and the printer in her office was out of ink. Or she could be a lawyer and her assistant couldn’t find the file for next week’s court case.
There were millions of reasons why Callie might look panicked. But he didn’t like any of them, and his blood ran cold a few moments later when his own phone buzzed in his pocket. The particular vibration pattern was assigned to his new bosses, Ajax and Ryker.
Keeping his eye on Callie, he pulled the phone out and answered it. “Housman here.”
“Sorry to call so early on your vacation.” It was Ryker.
“Talk to me.” Grant never took his eyes off Callie. She was pacing again, and she didn’t glance back at him. The fine hairs on Grant’s arm stood out.
“I’ve gotten word that the Chinese are mobilizing at a rapid pace. They moved men, ships, and planes in the night. Something is about to go down, and I need you guys on high alert.”
“Any idea what it might be?”
“Not a clue. But expert opinions point to a complete overtake of Taiwan.”
“We’ve known that for years. Why now?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“They have to know the world won’t tolerate something like that,” Grant commented.
“I agree. And indeed they will not. The U.S. in particular won’t support China taking Taiwan. A carrier strike force is on its way now to the Pacific Ocean to replace one that’s headed into dry dock. Matter of fact, it’s already in the Caribbean heading toward the Panama Canal.”
“Shit,” Grant muttered. Of all the places on the planet he could choose to vacation, he happened to be in the damn Panama Canal while the Navy he no longer worked for was headed his direction. He rubbed his temples.
“Gotta call the others. Ajax and I split the list. Be on alert. Might need you boys to get off the ship in Panama.”
Grant sighed. “Noted.”
Ryker ended the call.
Callie was no longer on the phone. It must have been back in her pocket because he couldn’t see it. She was rubbing her brow with one hand, staring into the distance at nothing.
An incredibly uneasy feeling crept up his spine. It had happened before and he’d brushed it off, but he felt more confident than ever that whoever had just called her had given her the same information he’d received from his new boss.
She took a deep breath, seeming to come back into herself, and turned to face him before walking his direction. The smile she pasted on her face was fake. “Sorry about that.”
He stared at her as she approached. “Everything okay?”
“Yep.” She turned her attention toward the locks they were still approaching and gripped the railing with her hands. Tightly. She was rigid.
Grant leaned one elbow on the railing next to her and leaned forward so he could see her face. “I got a call too.”
She jerked her attention to him and then back to the water. “Really? How funny. What a coincidence.”
He decided to poke at her. “I don’t think so. Not anymore.”
She glanced at him and chuckled. It was forced. Nothing was humorous. “I don’t know what you mean?” She shrugged. “We both got an early morning phone call. That’s not too weird.”
“It’s six a.m., Callie.”
She shrugged again and looked back at the water.
He stared at her for several long seconds. What do you do for a living, Callie? Who do you work for?
Finally, she pointed at something in the distance. “Looks like we’re next. The containership in front of us is moving into the third lock.”
Grant drew in a slow deep breath. He needed to shake off his unease. There wasn’t a thing he could do about their odd information at the moment. She couldn’t either. Instead of pressing her further, he stepped behind her where he’d been before, slid his hands around her waist, and held her back against his front.
When she relaxed in his embrace, he set his lips on her ear. There were some things he wanted to say to her in case he got yanked off this ship at some point this morning and was unable to talk to her or explain himself. He needed to be cryptic. “The past three days have been the most fun I think I’ve ever had.”
She set her hands on top of his at her waist. “Me too, Grant,” she whispered. “The very best.”
“I want eight more,” he added. “But if I don’t get them, promise me you’ll look me up when the dust settles. I’m not done with you.”
She chuckled dryly. “What are you talking about? Don’t be silly. We have eight more days on this ship.” Her stance suggested she didn’t believe that any more than him.
“My last name is Housman. H. O. U. S. M. A. N. I go by Sinker on social media. I live in Indiana. Find me.” He emphasized those last two words, trying to make sure she knew he was serious.
Callie stiffened. “We said we wouldn’t share information, and I can’t see you after this cruise, Grant.”
“Are you married?” He knew she wasn’t.
She jerked her head to glare at him. “Don’t insult me. I’m not fucking married.” She used a no-nonsense tone he’d never heard from her before.
“Then don’t insult me either, baby.” He tried to soften this discourse. “I know you’re into me. I’m asking you to find me. I’m not asking you to tell me anything about yourself right now. Keep your secrets. But I don’t want to walk away from you without knowing you can reach me. Shall I write my phone number on your arm?” he pushed.
She sighed. “No. I’m resourceful.”
“Will you find me?”
“No.”
Fuck.
“I can’t, Grant. Leave it alone.”
He held her tighter. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The air was thick with unease. People around them were laughing and smiling, excited to witness how the locks in the canal worked. It was a fascinating sight to behold, but Grant only cared about one thing. And it was slipping away from him with each passing second.
Callie tipped her head back and stared at the sky, looking around as if she expected to see something.
Grant’s mouth went dry as he heard the sound of a helicopter in the distance. Fuck. He wanted to scream. Of the two of them, he wasn’t going to be the first person to leave this ship. She knew it. She wouldn’t talk to him.
He licked his dry lips. “Do you need to go back to the room? How much time do we have?”
She flinched. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She pointed toward the first lock as they entered it. “Damn, it looks tight from here. Doesn’t it? It’s hard to believe there’s thirty-two feet of space on both sides of the ship. Looks like inches.”
Grant closed his eyes. Fine. If she wanted to pretend all was right with the world, he would have to go along. After all, she probably didn’t have permission to say one single word about whatever she knew. He just wished whatever it was, he could share it with his boss. It might help. He got the feeling Callie knew more than Ajax and Ryker.
Who the fuck do you work for, Callie? This question wouldn’t leave his mind. He should have looked her up. Why hadn’t he? He’d had her last name all this time. He could have googled her or had someone at the Holt Agency figure her out. Instead, he’d chosen to ignore the voice in the back of his head that had screamed at him that she wasn’t what she appeared to be.
Caroline Singleton was not a schoolteacher, an accountant, a lawyer, or a doctor. She worked for the fucking government in some capacity. Whatever it was, it was important enough that he knew for a fact he only had a few more hours with her. She was buzzing with tension.
There was more activity in the sky. Maybe Grant was imagining it, but he didn’t think so.