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Holly waved a hand at the captain to help herself.
“Captain Brightman here.”
…
“She’s lying on my Hangar Deck and feeding me some line of Spec Ops crock. Personally I think she’s one of those lazy Australian types, sir.”
…
“No, he’s no better.”
…
“Yes sir. I managed a few hours shuteye. Which looks as if it was a few more than they’ve had.”
Show off,Holly thought as loudly as she could. Since when did ship captain’s get to sleep while poor crash investigators toiled on and on without complaint?
Holly could get to like this. It was a very low energy scenario. And Mike was very comfortable.
“You aren’t talking about the M-word, are you, Mike?” There was a horrid thought.
“No. No. I don’t think I was. Maybe agreeing to live together in sin for the rest of our lives. That kind of thing.”
They were already sleeping together. She hadn’t been in her own bed at the team house in…a long damn time.
“You’re thinking pretty quietly there, Hol.”
“Are you shitting me, sir?” Captain Brightman was no longer enjoying her conversation.
Holly wasn’t sure yet if she was enjoying this one. Mike was asking her in a weak moment. His chest was a very nice place to lay her head, very warm and cuddly. “Maybe I’ll get back to you on that later, Mike.”
“In person? Really?” Brightman was going on with far too much energy. It must come from that few hours of cushy sleep she’d treated herself with.
Maybe Holly should try that herself.
“Uh-oh,” Mike whispered.
“What?”
“Listen.”
Holly forced herself to listen to the captain’s conversation on her phone.
“Well, with theCarl Vinsonpulling in, I suppose I can spare them.”
“CVN-70,” Holly felt pretty good about knowing that. “That means it’s an aircraft carrier with N, nuclear propulsion. Very fancy.”
“Smartypants. Do we want to be spared?”
“Spare tires. Spare parts.”
“Spareribs,” Mike countered.
“That sounds good. If you loved me, you’d go get me a big plate of spareribs and serve them to me one by one.”
“I might eat them myself and only give you the bones to gnaw.”
“Cheapskate.”
