Her gaze landed on Asher and her belly twisted again, only this time it wasn’t with giddy excitement.
But she didn’t have time to examine her reaction because Daniel moved away, shouting, “Quiet, everyone! Asher, are you ready?”
The room went still. Beside her, one of the cameras buzzed faintly, and her body forgot how to breathe.
She waited, because even she wasn’t entirely certain what was about to happen.
* * *
ASHER HEARD DANIEL yell action, and for a minute thought he might throw up. The calm he’d felt with Kennedy had completely disappeared. The familiar pressure was back, pushing against his lungs and strangling his throat. His tongue felt swollen, thick and useless.
He could already imagine everyone’s reaction as he stumbled over the first word he tried to force through his mouth.
God, this was a nightmare. His nightmare.
Jackson and Knox were depending on him. Trident needed this documentary for the exposure, the revenue and the potential to increase their clientele.
And he was going to let everyone down. He could feel the panic, the grief and the guilt that always swirled together whenever he stuttered.
Then he found Kennedy in the crowd and his entire world seemed to shift back into place. The pressure eased. The stranglehold on his throat disappeared and a cleansing swell of air filled his lungs.
He expected to see her eyes full of wary concern, but they weren’t. She stared back at him, steady, expectant and confident that he could handle this without a problem.
And that was exactly what he needed, that shot of strength when he thought he didn’t have enough of his own to conquer his irrational fear.
“Asher, why don’t you start with some background on Trident? How did you, Jackson and Knox form the business?”
Kennedy nodded her encouragement. Asher opened his mouth and words flowed out. “At first, the idea of forming Trident Diving and Salvage was little more than a fantasy, as outlandish as the idea that three former navy SEALs could uncover a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old ship that seasoned experts hadn’t been able to find. I c-c-can’t—”
The stutter came out of nowhere, startling him as much as everyone else in the room. Asher froze for several seconds, his gaze flashing back to Kennedy.
And she was there, that same steady, expectant, accepting gaze still unwavering as she waited for him to continue.
She really had meant it when she’d said it didn’t matter.
So Asher took a deep breath and just kept going. “I can’t even remember which one of us said it first. For two years we listened to Jackson Duchane talk about the Chimera with awe in his voice like she was more important than the Holy Grail.”
Asher laughed, the memories of those days flooding back. They weren’t all good, but they weren’t all bad. Sitting in some shithole outside a small mud hut in Afghanistan. Or around a campfire in the middle of the jungle in Central America. Or even relaxing in the backyard with steaks on the barbecue and a beer in their hands whenever they’d been home.
Somehow Jackson had always managed to bring the topic around to the Chimera. Before he’d met Loralei, that ship had been his life.
“I’m just lucky Jackson let me become a part of the team, the family we’ve built. The Chimera is important, she’s historically valuable and will be key in uncovering new information about the support the Confederacy received from the Caribbean plantation owners. But for me, this experience has been more than that. I’ll always be grateful for the brothers I met in combat and the life we’ve built together now that we’ve all moved to the next chapter of our lives.”
Asher realized that he’d been talking for several minutes, rambling on in a way he hadn’t meant to, giving Daniel information that had nothing to do with the purpose of the documentary. Finding Daniel in the shadows behind the camera, he offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to drone on. And can we redo that first part, where I stuttered?”
“No.”
Shit. That single-word answer had Asher’s stomach rolling with dread. Daniel was pissed.
“That take was perfect, there’s no need to reshoot it. We can edit out the stutter. Do you need a break or would you like to continue?”
Asher shook his head, a little shocked and unnerved. “A break would be nice.” His fingers were cramping where he’d had a death grip on the edge of the desk anyway.
“Take five, everyone!” Daniel yelled before turning to Kennedy. And for everyone in the crew to hear, he said, “You were right. He’s perfect. America is going to eat him up.”
Kennedy grinned. “I’ll remind you of that later when you’re upset with me over something else.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
Pushing away from the wall, Kennedy slowly strode across the room. People moved around, adjusting equipment, speaking to each other. None of that really registered because he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her.
She stopped several inches away, a hell of a lot farther than he would have preferred, cocked her head to the side and stared up at him for several seconds before murmuring, “I’m so proud of you.”
Until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how important hearing that from her would be. Pride burned through him, easing years of scars he hadn’t realized he was still carrying.
“Thank you,” he murmured back. Leaning forward, he got as close to her as he could without actually touching, not caring who was watching. In that moment, nothing else mattered but her. “Now, about that reward you mentioned...”
13
“MMM,” ASHER HUMMED in the back of his throat. The sweet scent of vanilla tickled his senses. Something soft brushed across his parted lips.
Cracking one eye open, he stared up at Kennedy looming out of the darkness above him.
Her thighs were spread on either side of his hips. Slowly, she rocked, dragging another sound of pleasure from him as her wet sex slid against his already throbbing erection.
“I could get used to waking up to this,” he rumbled, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her down closer. He wanted to taste her, but before he could, something soft and wet swept across his cheek.
The sensation startled him. It wasn’t her tongue because her mouth was inches away from his. “What the hell?”
A wicked grin crossed her face. Kennedy placed a palm on his chest and levered herself up, putting a few inches between them. And for the first time he realized she held something in her other hand.
A pale cupcake with a swirl of bright pink frosting at least two inches thick.
Eyeing it, he asked, “What is that?”
Her grin widened. “Payback.”
Before he could even twitch, the thing was top down in his face. Kennedy smeared the sticky mess from his forehead, down his nose and across his chin.
There was no question, he was under siege.
Ducking his head, Asher grabbed her by the waist, picked her up and flipped her onto her back. But the damage was already done.
She squealed and giggled, the sound making his chest go tight for several seconds. It was playful. It was real. He liked knowing he could make Kennedy laugh.
She was driven and focused. Watching her the past two years, he’d noticed she tended to shoulder responsibility, taking on tasks simply because she could. The woman was in constant motion, and she rarely took a break long enough to relax.
At least not since the night he’d rescued her from jail.
If she dated, he wasn’t aware of it. Her entire life had been focused on helping them build Trident while completing her degree.
He commended her for the dedication, but being a soldier had quickly taught him the necessity of blowing off steam. If you didn’t open the release valve now and then, stress would eat you up from the inside out.
So if Kennedy wanted to smear him in a little pink frosting for fun...they’d both enjoy licking up the mess.
But he wasn’t about to make it easy for her.
Using his legs, Asher pinned her thighs down beneath him. But he wasn’t quick enough to avoid another smear of sugary goodness across his chest.
With one hand, he captured her wrist, holding her arm above her head and immobilizing her weapon of choice.
Asher sucked in a harsh breath when she arched beneath him, the tight tips of her breasts colliding with his chest. Her hips slid against his. Naked wrestling definitely put him at a disadvantage. At least when his opponent was Kennedy.
His brain fogged for a few seconds, and she managed to grab another cupcake from a plate she’d set beside the bed. If he hadn’t been distracted, she never would have reached the additional ammo.
She hadn’t just brought one, but a full dozen of the sticky pink things.
“How did you get these?” he managed to get out, even while attempting to pin her free hand.
“Catherine made them after she was done fixing the crew dinner,” she answered, taking a huge bite before smearing the top of the cupcake across his ribs.
“Remind me to thank her,” he growled right before burying his face against Kennedy’s neck. The way her breath caught as he dragged his tongue over her skin sent a hot stream of molten need straight to his blood.
Making a calculated decision, Asher didn’t bother to snag her other wrist, but let her continue spreading the stickiness over his body.
Stretching out, he grabbed some ammunition of his own and struck. She yelped in surprise, bucking her hips beneath him to try and wiggle away. But he had her well and truly pinned.