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He could tell what two clicks from Lucy or a head bob from Ethel meant. Darcy, however, constantly defied logic, and he was the poorest candidate on the planet for dealing with things outside his factual realm.
He was right not to call her and to keep his distance from this woman who’d already been hurt enough. “Thanks for the heads-up, Baker, but you’re off base. If you’re done, I’m going to call it a night.”
Max shoved to his feet and stomped the sand from his skin. Too bad the cutting nicks of shell shards and memories weren’t as easily shaken free. And when Darcy left, he would be adding the slice of new regrets to the old.
* * *
Darcy shifted restlessly in the base dive shop as she waited for the attendant to bring her diving gear. She hitched a hip against the wooden counter in the sprawling hut and let her gaze wander to the window. The bay beyond the dirty panes tempted her as much as the man who called those waters his second home.
In two days, she would be leaving. Max had invited her to say goodbye to Lucy and Ethel. She understood well enough the goodbye was for him as well.
Her dog tags burned a reminder against her skin of his touch with every gentle sway when she walked. He could have his goodbye, but there wouldn’t be any more chitchat with tempting glimpses into the real Max and playful afternoons with Lucy and Ethel.
He’d gone out of his way not to abuse her friendship the past weeks. Which made her crave him all the more. She wanted a distraction but had found more than she’d bargained for or could handle. In a week she would be sitting in the Squadron Commander’s office discussing her chances of shipping out to Cantou.
A rogue thought slapped over her like a wave tearing sand from beneath her feet. She’d accepted the possibility of dying in combat, but she’d never considered how it would affect anyone other than her family. Max had already lost someone special to him. Was she? Special to him? Sure it might be overconfident to think she could lure him in for something more. Yet if she did, how would he hold up under the stress of sending her off into danger? Because she was not going to spend the rest of her career sitting on the sidelines.
Regret crept up and pricked at her like the sand crab scuttling across the gritty wooden floor to nibble her toes. This really was it for them. Darcy nudged aside the nipping crab. She intended to make this a farewell to remember, while keeping them busy. No chitchat. Definitely no more touching. Part of her wanted to forgo the farewell altogether, but their time together the past weeks demanded a better end than that.
Resolute, Darcy waited while the beach bum attendant swiped her credit card and tallied up the day’s rental fee for dive gear. The young man with bleached-blond dreadlocks passed her a receipt while his mother scurried behind him in her magenta muumuu.
Flipping the pressure gauge in her hand, Darcy checked the reading for her tank. “Thanks for hooking me up with gear on such short notice.”
“No problem, hon.” The muumuu mama leaned past her son and over the counter, hoop earrings swaying. “You’re not going alone, are you? Vinnie here can dive with you. He’s always looking for ways to clock out early, right son?”
The guy was already rubbing zinc oxide on his nose.
“No need.” Darcy hefted the gear onto her shoulder. “I’m meeting up with Doc Keagan.”
“Good enough, then.” The older woman angled back. “Enjoy the day.”
“Bummer.” Vinnie dropped the tube and whipped a boxed underwater camera off the display hook. “Here. Take one of these. It’s on the house if you show me the pictures later.”
“Deal.” Darcy hitched her gear over her shoulder.
Jogging down the steps, she tore the wrapper off the camera and arced the garbage into the industrial-size trash bin. Her hand clenched around the camera. Apparently, she would be making her own photo-worthy memories with Max after all.
A low drone hummed in the distance. Max steered the boat toward the dock. Toward her. Her stomach pitched just before the scope of her vision broadened and she saw the second figure in the boat. Perry Griffin stood beside his boss. They must have penned the dolphins together.
How had she become so well versed in Max’s work habits the past weeks? The notion left her feeling more than a little uncomfortable. Of course, hehadasked her to join him often enough. Some days it seemed the guy wouldn’t let her out of his sight.
Max pulled up alongside the dock, eyeing the gear slung over Darcy’s shoulder. “I thought we’d planned to meet at the pen.”
Was that disappointment she heard in his voice. What a heady notion that he would miss her, too. “I changed my mind. Woman’s prerogative and all that.”
The boat bobbed and swayed as Perry made his way toward the back to tie off. He nodded toward Darcy’s gear. “Going somewhere?”
“I was hoping to, if Max is still free.” She turned to him. “You said you weren’t planning any dives today, just unpenning Lucy and Ethel. The waters are warm enough to dive in swimsuits. So I thought maybe you could show me some of the sites if you haven’t timed out on underwater minutes yet…”
And if he had? There was a limit per day of how much time a body could stand the depths without succumbing to decompression sickness, the bends… or worse, an air bubble in the heart, a concern for her, as well, if she didn’t give herself the proper time between a flight and diving. She prayed her plan for a no-talk day wouldn’t be derailed.
She held her breath and waited.
Max turned to his assistant. “Perry, why don’t you head on in? I’ll join you later.”
Darcy exhaled, relieved.
His assistant tugged a stark white T-shirt over his head and tucked it into his navy swim trunks, a preppy antithesis of Max. “Sure, boss. We can review our data later. I need to give my wife a call, anyway.” He leaped onto the dock and nodded a farewell to Darcy. “Take it easy.”
