Page 12 of Researching the Pole

I pulled away just in time to see the expression on his face. Seeing Grant Reeves fall apart in front of my eyes, all because I was touching him, short-circuited my brain, and I followed him with my own climax. It barreled through me, whiting out my vision.

***

The next day I had no time to panic about what happened in the night because it was the drop day and we were busy all morning. By the time we were ready, it was mid-afternoon. Daylight didn’t really count down here. It was constantly low light at the South Pole, but that didn’t mean we could work at night.

After a quick lunch, the four of us went out far enough from the shore, and Sam, our boat officer, stopped us near the leopard seal’s spot from yesterday. His home was out here. He was chilling, eyeing us from a distance.

My laptop screen glowed in the dim gray Antarctic light, the GPS grid overlaid with waypoint markers where each hydrophone needed to go.

“So the plan is, you both go down, drop Dr. Cole’s hydrophones, and then come back up. Grant, Dr. Cole will direct you from up here and you’ll be responsible for the anchors. Viktor, you’ll watch Grant’s back at all times and keep your line open with me. I don’t want you spending more than thirty minutes. Between dives you take the mandatory rest. If I see any signs of hypothermia, I call off the operation. Clear?” Sam looked at all of us.

The man looked a bit scary to me. I nodded and mumbled, “Absolutely.”

“You got it, boss!” Viktor mock-saluted while wrestling with the tank. On his lean, long frame, it looked much bigger than on Grant.

I was a novice diver and yesterday’s dive was more recreational than actual work. Viktor was experienced and the official dive buddy for Grant. I was relieved because I simply didn’t have the skills to navigate the frigid underwater conditions, manage the hydrophones, and look out for danger.

“Don’t worry, Doc.” Grant sat down next to me and leaned over to speak in low tones. “I’ll place your hydrophones exactly how you want.”

“I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.”

He pulled back and our eyes met. My heart skipped a beat. Warmth flooded my face at the memory of last night. He’d called me ‘baby’. And I had liked that a lot.

“I’ll be careful.” He gave me a smile that made my insides turn to mush. The strangest urge came over me, and suddenly I wanted to kiss him.

6

Chapter 6

Flustered by my wayward instincts, I turned toward Sam, pulling up the deployment pattern. “Will you be able to move the boat according to these coordinates, Sam? I need to show you the—”

The words died in my throat. Sam wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at Viktor with an intensity that made my chest tighten. His expression was almost reverent, tracking every movement as Viktor adjusted his gear.

I waited a moment. Then another. “Sam?” He hadn’t heard me at all.

“See you guys later!” Viktor’s cheerful voice broke the moment as he gave a thumbs up and rolled backward into the dark water with a splash, the first mesh bag of hydrophones bobbing for a second before disappearing down with him. Grant followed a second later, the second mesh bag of hydrophones secured to his harness.

Sam blinked, and his gaze snapped to me. For just a heartbeat, his expression was completely exposed—caught. Then his mask slammed back into place, professional and controlled. His jaw tightened, and something defensive flickered in his eyes, like he was gearing up to explain or deflect.

I didn’t know if I had started looking at every man as if he were gay or if Waypoint Station was just a place full of horny gay dudes, but I didn’t say anything. I just gave him a small smile and turned back to my laptop. “Can we go over the coordinates one more time? We’ll need to move about fifty meters northwest after the first two placements.”

Sam’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he gave me a nod before coming closer. “Show me the pattern.”

We discussed the array while a cold wind whipped across the open waters, carrying the sharp salt smell of the ocean. After a few minutes, Grant’s voice crackled through the underwater comm system, distorted and slightly metallic. “I’m at depth.”

I leaned closer to the screen, watching the blinking dot that represented Grant’s position. “Okay, you’re going to move fifteen meters to your left—west. Tell me when you’re in position.”

“Copy that.”

Static hissed through the comm as Grant maneuvered. The seconds stretched out, my breath fogging in the frigid air.

“In position,” Grant’s voice came through.

“Perfect. Deploy it there.”

A moment later, a green dot appeared on my screen as the hydrophone’s GPS transmitter activated. Relief flooded through me. “Signal confirmed. That’s one down.”

After thirty minutes, they surfaced. Grant pulled himself onto the boat, water streaming off his drysuit. Viktor followed, both of them breathing hard from exertion and cold. We helped the divers out of their breathing gear and situated them where the heater was blowing warm air.