Buck turned and addressed the statement Steve had made before the pair had taken off.
“By executing the rest of the plans, I take it you mean notifying the parties standing by in Canada and Maine that they can get their warrants to take down Monsieur Provard and infiltrate a barn?” he asked.
“That’s right,” Steve concurred with relish. “We’ll wrap this whole thing up with a nice, tidy bow.”
“That’sifwhat we suspect is in those crates, is really there,” Buck reminded him.
“You think otherwise?” Steve questioned with a lifted brow.
“Nope.” Buck shook his head. “I think those two are guilty as hell.” He hooked a thumb over toward the cutter where the pair sat, but didn’t glance that way. He wanted to be calm for his dive, and he couldn’t guarantee that would be the case if he set eyes on Drew again.
“Then let’s get to it.” Steve signaled to his team, who’d been waiting for his order to don their gear.
While Buck suited up, four Coastie’s did the same.
Buck wanted to make sure, before he went over the side, that Bobbie was going to be okay. He crouched down beside her, bringing his face close to linger near her lips. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve always wanted to be kissed by a sea-creature,” she teased, grabbing a hold of his tank harness and dragging him down to mesh their mouths.
Buck leaned into it, then abruptly pulled back because…Shit. A hard-on in a wetsuit was not exactly something he could hide.
“Minx,” he groaned and chuckled, surreptitiously trying to straighten his dick out while talking it down.
“Hold that thought,” she purred.
“Not if I don’t want to catch a lot of shit for what’s showing. But I promise if you let up on me now, I’ll make it really good for you, later.”
Bobbie pouted, but agreed. “Fine. Rotting oysters.”
“Rotting…?”
Bobbie snorted. “It’s the smelliest, nastiest thing I can think of to make Mr. Happy, unhappy.”
But as gross as that was, it wasn’t working.
Luckily, Buck was able to render his libido from goingtoorampant by spending thirty seconds bent over while chanting an old childhood song about death, and worms crawling in and out. It did the trick. He was finally able to arise without giving everyone a show.
Soon after he stood up, the team of four from the cutter hit the water, getting themselves wet and attaching the bags that held the currently uninflated flotation devices to their belts. They hung out, paddling around until their first officer would give them confirmation that all the transponders were in place.
Buck then joined the small crew, and it almost felt like old times, with jokes and taunts being easily tossed about as they gave him the underwater video camera and told him since he was the “newbie” he’d be in charge of taking the footage.
He didn’t give them any crap. He understood the closeness of a team who’d been diving together for so long, and wouldn’t mess up their dynamic.
Did Buck miss the Coast Guard? Sometimes. Was he happy with his new life as a civilian? Absolutely.
It was Bobbie, however, who had sealed the deal on being a landlubber. Sure, starting up a company and diving with his brother was going to be awesome, but having this woman by his side was going to make him a better person, by far.
Before he’d separated from the Coast Guard, he’d been emersed in the military tradition for far too long; eschewing a personal life.
Now, he’d be part of a family again.
And soon, maybe, he’d be making a family of his own.
That thought made him shiver; giddy with anticipation, but he was getting ahead of himself.
Anylife with Bobbie in it was going to be an adventure from here on out.
The call camein from the sub not five minutes later, that all five cases had been located and tagged.
