“Socks?” Trask gruffed, trying not to think of her long legs encased lovingly in thermals. It was very important to have appropriate footwear on under the diving booties she’d be wearing.
“Cotton.” She raised a foot off the dry spot on the tarmac she’d chosen, wiggling her toes in his direction and grimacing. “Not good.”
“I have wool ones on,” he told her. “We’ll swap.”
Jett’s face morphed from concern to amusement as she laughed heartily. “Hah! That’s going to be hilarious. I’m a size seven and you wear…?”
“Fourteens,” Trask relayed back. “So maybe not a swap, because I’ll never get my big foot into yours, but we’ll make mine work for you.” He was already toeing out of his boots, wasting no time.
“Sounds like a plan, but… You don’t have stinky feet, do you?” she teased.
Trask blinked. Did he? He’d never thought about it.
“Nope,” he assured her, hoping he was right.
“Good. Smelly feet are a deal breaker for me,” she told him, reaching out to brace herself on his arm while pulling her socks off, one by one.
He liked the feel of that, way too much.
“I went to camp when I was young,” she continued, “and one of my cabin-mates had the worst stank. It made me gag every morning, and put me off breakfast for a long time.”
Trask wasn’t sure if he was supposed to reply to that or not, so he simply held his socks out toward her, mute as he took in her cute as hell toes. She grabbed his offering and pulled the enormous things onto her feet.
“Mmm. They’re still warm,” she hummed appreciably. And didn’t that just get his libido ramped up again.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He took a step back once she didn’t need him for balance any more. Because…he needed distance.
She bent down, did some folding and tucking, then managed to get her feet—encased in his socks—into her diving booties before she tipped her head to regard him.
“Umm, you might want to getyourbig oldfeet back in your boots before they get frostbitten.”
Trask snorted. Not completely necessary. The pavement, having absorbed the heat of the afternoon sun, wasn’t all that cold, but to get her eyes offhistoes, he complied.
“I’m ready,” she stated. “I’ll leave the top of my suit and my dry gloves off until we get there. That way I won’t overheat in your truck.” She glanced back into her Cessna. “What do you think? Will I need my mask? My tanks?” she questioned, clearly deferring to him.
He contemplated for a second before answering. “I don’t think you’ll need the tanks, but the mask will be a game-changer if you have to submerge. Still, bring both, just in case.”
“Good call.” She leaned in and snagged the items.
And there it was again. The ease with which Jett took his suggestions.
Trask marveled at how effortless Jett was to work with, as if they were on the exact same page. It was uncanny, really.
Without a word, they strode back to the truck, side by side, got in, and were soon on their way.
Wasting no time conferring with him, Jett leaned forward and punched the address she’d clearly seen on his phone, into his navigation system.
Damn.Trask didn’t particularly like the next thought that jumped into his head, but he couldn’t help it.
He and Jett made a good team. Areallygood team.
He hid a sigh, and a companionable silence ensued.
They reached their location in just under twelve minutes; a rural, dirt road that looked little used. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out when they’d reached their designated spot.Emergency vehicles of all kinds sat willy-nilly off to the sides in the brush, allowing Trask to pull up and park amongst them.
“You ready?” Trask asked Jett. She’d looked a little worried when she’d first volunteered for the job, but now she was all business.
