But that was to be expected since she’d been…very busy.
Jett had been back and forth to Portsmouth several times, packing up her lifetime of stuff and memories, getting them squared away into a storage unit until she knew where she was ending up. She’d also sold a lot of the larger things that neither she nor her father wanted.
Trask had continued to be hot in her bed, despite the fact that they were still encamped at his parents’ house. He had more than sustained the prowess he’d advertised by the sneak peek she’d gotten the first time she’d been in his bed. He was an all-out, confident, sexy-as-hell alpha between the sheet.
And everywhere else. In the shower…up against the wall…
Le-sigh, Jett quoted Pepe Le Pew.
She liked it. She liked it all, and she liked it a lot.
Always having had trouble—because she was devilishly scattered—deciding exactly what moves to make in bed, with Trask, she had no such difficulty.
The man ordered. Jett complied. End of story.
And if she didn’t behave herself—which she sometime chose not to do—she found her eager posterior blushing red-hot under his palm.
Which was a-fucking-okay with her.
She’d always fantasized about “love-punishment”, but had never before experienced it. Which was probably for the best, because with Trask, she’d found a man whoreallyknew how to deliver. He was perfectly growly and over-the-top, but he never hurt her; he just made the sting he delivered, oh-so-delicious.
Things with Downeast had been moving right along, as well. She’d helped with the “museum” that Trask had his heart set on, and the space was looking really good. It was complete enough so that today, people could actually step in and have a gander.
With all the bustle to get things up and running, the Diver Downeast crew might have finished putting all the remaining displays together, faster, but after that first big storm and subsequent clean-up, another huge nor’easter had blown through, so they’d been snowed in for a few days.
No hardship there.
Hunkering-down had never been more fun.
Actual business, though, had already and surprisingly been trickling in to the newly established company, even though they wouldn’t officially open their doors until today.
It had forced them to keep on their toes.
During one lull in the bad weather, the team of which she was now a part, had been summoned to a spot just southeast of town for a delicate job. A private jet had gone into the lake one evening; an unexpected turn of events, to be sure.
Luckily, the pilot had been the only one on board, and had managed to send out a mayday call before gliding it in, climbing out and scrambling to the top of the doomed craft where he was plucked off by locals with ice-boats minutes before the sleek jet sunk to the bottom.
Fortuitous.
Diver Downeast, following a call from the local police, had been tasked with going down for the black box.
Piece of cake.
The team had actually, playfully, argued over who would get the honors for the retrieval, but in the end, it was Spencer and Trask who had gone down. Still, that didn’t mean the rest of them failed to get their toes wet, so to speak. After the local fire department hacked a hole in the semi-thick ice—the area hadn’t actually had enough of a deep freeze yet for it to become very dense—the entire team had suited up and gleefully kept the opening in the surface clear of refreezing while the two men were down.
The whole operation took no more than an hour, but they’d all been pumped.
Equally so when they’d been called just a few days later to do a rescue in nearby Bangor because the Sothard’s brother, Kyle, had mentioned their name.
That one had been a lot more…intense.
An overflow tank for the city’s sewage system had just been completed. It would handle storm water and reduce the discharge into the Penobscot River. All was going well with the preliminary trials when one of their construction workers became trapped under a collapsed scaffolding as the tank was being pressure-tested. With the cistern rapidly filling with water, the poor man had barely been able to keep his head above the influx, but Diver Downeast had gotten him out in record time, earning their paycheck and reaping their fledgling company even more praise.
The word was out, now.Beforetheir doors were officially opened—which they would be in just under an hour.
Things were looking great. They’d already been contracted for numerous jobs for the spring, including a safety check onseveral local piers, the raising of a boat off the coast that had gone down in the fall, and three huge underwater construction jobs up north that needed certification via video and still footage, which Diver Downeast would provide.
They were all pumped for that, but right now, nervous forthisday as they excitedly walked around the shop, prepping for what they hoped would be a good number of locals checking the place out.
