The man was over six feet of laid-back bravado, sandy blond hair sticking up like he’d just surfed. He wore a Sunset Siesta T-shirt withDive Staffon the sleeve and board shorts, his skin tanned a deep caramel.
“Brynn, you never warned me your boyfriend was so uptight,” he said, grinning as he performed an elaborate handshake she already knew.
“Eli, meet Dean,” Brynn said. “Dean, Eli Coleridge. Dive instructor and Dove Key’s answer to a walking liability waiver.”
Eli laughed and clapped me on the back hard enough to realign my spine. “Nice. Fresh meat. So the big certification dive is finally over, huh? You ready to join the cool-kids club?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said. The days of intensive pool sessions and book work, then diving in a quarry to get certified, had been a blur. I’d passed the tests, but my confidence was purely theoretical. “Let’s do this.”
Eli grinned. “Hardcore. You’ll fit right in.” He eyed the activity voucher in my pocket. “Aw, the couple’s package. My personal favorite.”
Brynn gave me a sidelong look as she looped her arm through mine. “We thought it would be a bonding experience.”
Eli made a face of exaggerated disgust. “You two are gross. I love it. Let’s get you fitted.”
He led us into the gear shack, an oversized shed that smelled of neoprene and seawater. He handed me a wetsuit and fins. “The usual gear, hotshot. Try not to rip it. Stuff’sexpensive.”
I couldn’t help grinning back.
Brynn slipped into her suit with the practiced ease of someone who had done this dozens of times. My own movements were still clumsy, calculated. I double-checked every strap and seal, the instructor’s voice a mantra in my head:Complacency kills.
“Relax, Mercer,” she said, her voice low. “You’re a certified diver, remember? I’m sure you aced the pool drills.”
“The ocean has more things that can eat you,” I muttered.
“Maybe a few.” She grinned. “We should probably coordinate our story before we’re surrounded by nosy guests again. You want to take the lead?”
“Let’s go with: met at a bar, got drunk, made a terrible decision. It’s closest to the truth.”
She shook her head. “You have the romantic instincts of a wet sandbag.”
“Thank you. I work hard at it.”
“Okay, question,” she said as we walked toward the boat. “When did you know you were in love with me?”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re really doing this?”
“Eli will ask. So will everyone else. Practice.”
I feigned concentration. “I’ll say it was the time you beat me at trivia night and did a victory dance on the bar.”
She snorted. “That never happened.”
“Exactly. I’m establishing you as a liar and a show-off. Takes the pressure off me.”
Brynn nudged me with her shoulder, her smile more natural for a second. “Fine. But for the record, I would absolutely win at trivia. And I’d do the dance.”
Eli beckoned us over. “Lovebirds! Pre-dive briefing.”
He ran through the plan for the site—depth, expected currents, types of animals, points of interest. He lookeddirectly at me, the smartass persona falling away. “Dean, this is your first open-water dive since your checkout. We stick together. Brynn’s your buddy, but I’m the boss. Any problems, you signal me first. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said, appreciating his professionalism.
“Brynn’s an old pro,” Eli continued, testing the tanks with a sharp hiss. “But everyone does a buddy check, every time.”
We followed him onto the dive boat.Sunset Diverwas a sleek fiberglass boat with plenty of room. We were lucky to have it to ourselves. I sat next to Brynn behind Eli, the engine’s rumble vibrating through the hull as I went through my own mental checklist.
As he guided the boat away from the pier, he glanced over his shoulder at Brynn. “So when was the last time you were down here, anyway? Feels like it’s been a while.”
