“Sure. But there’s one problem.” The policeman lifted a finger. “You’ll need to change it a bit.”
Wolf drew his eyebrows together. “How so?”
“I mean, she already knows you don’t have eight inches. So you’ll have to say three or else she’ll just laugh at you.”
Wolf’s shoulders quaked with humor. Officer Ryan would fit in well with the men of Deep Six Salvage. Which meant Wolf responded to the policeman the way he would’ve responded to one of his partners. “Roses are red. Violets are blue. I’ve got five fingers. This one’s for you.”
He flipped Ryan the bird.
The policeman feigned insult. “Such an offensive gesture from a guy who’s supposed to be part of the few and the proud.”
“Those are the Marines. I was Navy. You know, where the real heroes work.”
“Look, man.” Ryan placed a hand on his shoulder, his expression pitying. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but the people who have to be around you on a daily basis are the real heroes.”
Fighting a laugh, Wolf came back with, “Wow. I was today years old when I discovered I didn’t like you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Officer Ryan blinked innocently. “Well, remember that time I asked for your opinion about me? Me neither.”
Wolf was having too much fun to let the policeman win. “That’s the best comeback you got? Dude, if brains were dynamite, you wouldn’t have enough to blow your hat off.”
“Don’t you worry about me or my brains or my hat,” Ryan’s mouth was twitching. “Worry about your eyebrows.”
Wolf couldn’t stand it anymore. It was such a ridiculous cut, he burst out laughing. Soon after, the policeman joined him. They were still chuckling when the officer’s phone jangled to life.
“It’s Dixon,” Ryan said, thumbing on his cell. Wolf listened to the policeman’s side of the conversation. “Officer Ryan here.” Pause. “Oh, yeah? Well that’s progress.” Pause. “Okay. Sure. I’ll tell them.”
After Ryan clicked off, Wolf lifted an inquiring eyebrow.
“The Coast Guard finally shared with Dixon the logs of the ships entering the marina,” the policeman explained. “He’s checking to see if any of the owners or operators match the description of the two guys Chrissy saw in the warehouse. Nothing yet. But he’s hopeful.”
Wolf nodded and slapped his hands on the arms of the rocking chair. “Well, as much as I’d like to sit here tradin’ insults with you, I better go inside. Chrissy will want an update as soon as she wakes up.”
He was to the front door when the police officer stopped him with, “Take it from a guy who’s been in love with an independent woman for nearly a decade. The trick to winning Miss Szarek over and keeping her happy is to be someone shewants. And don’t get all butt-hurt because you’re not someone sheneeds. See, the thing is, she doesn’tneedanyone. She can do it all herself. And it takes a strong, confident man to not only be okay with that, but to appreciate it for the rare gift that it is.”
Wolf dipped his chin. “That’s good advice. Thank you.”
Ryan waved away his gratitude. “Now, go have a nice day. Somewhere else.”
Wolf chuckled and flipped the officer the bird again before closing the door behind him. He was pondering Ryan’s words when he heard movement at the back of the house. His hand automatically dove into the robe’s pocket, his palm fitting instinctively around the Glock’s grip.
But he relaxed and leaned against the doorjamb once he made his way to the small galley-style kitchen and saw it was only Chrissy. She’d changed back into that soft, sea foam-green sleep set. It highlighted her golden skin and long legs. Still, he far preferred her naked.
“You got dressed.” He was unable to keep the disappointment from his voice.
Startled, she spun around and he saw she had her phone in hand. When she realized it was only him, she frowned. Then her frown turned upside down once she got an eyeful of what he was wearing. “Well, I had to. Someone stole my robe.” She crossed her arms to mirror his stance. “It, uh, looks good on you.”
“Like I always say, you’re a terrible liar.” Hitching his chin toward her phone, he asked, “Any news?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Well, yes. Tommy texted to say he got my dive clients out and back before the storm blew in. So that’s one less thing to worry about. But nothing from Mr. or Mrs. Turner.”
“Winston’s tough,” he told her. “If anyone can pull through this, it’s him.”
“Yeah.” She nodded, but her face crumpled and her bottom lip trembled.
“Come here.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her toward him. “You look like you need a hug.”
She didn’t put up any resistance. Which he took as a good sign. Instead, she curled her uninjured arm around his waist and pressed her face into the base of his throat. The instant he felt her warm breath on his skin, he began to harden.
