any’s black and yellow neoprene dry suit. As Jesse checked the valves on his own suit, he watched the two of them work and shook his head at Jud, because the guy just couldn’t resist joking around with and teasing her. She gave as good as she got, though, and clearly was more than able to take care of herself. And it made Jesse like her even more. Made him feel even more at home, if he was honest. Because even though not everyone on their team was prior military, their shit-talking had the same feeling of camaraderie, the same sense that people had your back as being in the navy.
Once Jud was fully kitted, he waited on the diving stage to allow Mike to perform a series of systems checks. Tara shed her sweatshirt, leaving her in a form-fitting black undersuit. It was similar to the clothing they all wore, of course, but Jesse had seen the gorgeous curves beneath, and the mix of sexy and badass she was rocking was a fucking appealing combination. Since Tara was Jud’s standby diver, she slid a gray neoprene beanie onto her head, then stepped into her suit next, turning so Bobby could zip her in.
Jesse and Bobby kitted up after her, even though they’d be waiting upwards of an hour for Jud to return to the surface. Stepping into his dry suit ratcheted up Jesse’s anticipation. As he closed Bobby’s back zipper, the guy jutted his chin at Jud. “They’re always like this. He should just ask her out already.”
Competing reactions whipped through Jesse. One colored by the way he and Tara had met and the night they’d shared—full of a desire he had no real right to feel and that was inappropriate at any rate. And the other, irritation on Tara’s behalf.
“If you don’t think it’s challenging being the only woman on this team, you’d be wrong again…”
The memory of Tara’s words squashed Jesse’s personal reactions dead in their tracks. This was the bullshit she was talking about and it made him feel protective. “I just see a diver doing her job.”
“Yeah, man, of course,” Bobby said, zipping him into his suit. “Hunter’s wicked smart. Team’s lucky to have her.”
Well, he couldn’t argue with that. Her experience, competence, and expertise were clear in everything he’d seen her do. And fuck if every one of those things didn’t make him feel more of what he was supposed to be trying to ignore.
Want. Need. Connection.
Shaking off the unwanted thoughts, Jesse forced himself to focus. Their routines and processes here were all familiar to him, but every team had its idiosyncrasies and he wanted to be fully prepared when it was his time to get wet. He put in his earpiece in time to hear the team’s comms come to life.
Suddenly, Boone’s voice was in his ear. “Okay, divers, let’s dive safe and conservative. Surface marker buoys have been deployed. Jud, you’re clear to descend. Run time starts now at oh seven twenty-one.”
Jud doublechecked the dive computer on his wrist and gave a thumbs-up. On a whirr, the diving stage descended, carrying both diver and survey equipment to the bottom. George ensured the smooth entry of the umbilical, which supplied their air from the surface. Tara was busy on a laptop, monitoring the output from Jud’s dive computer and recording the data into his dive profile that logged every dive each of them made.
Curious about whether Jud was sending any observations back yet, Jesse moved beside Tara. Their computers were pre-programmed with common messages, and just then one popped up.
Moderate visibility
Not surprising. Storms stirred sand and debris up from the bottom, choking off the light already limited during descent.
“He’s at thirty feet,” Tara said, laser focused on the details of Jud’s dive. “Forty. Fifty. Okay, he’s down at fifty-eight.” She made a quick calculation using the dive tables, then typed out a message to Jud.
34 minutes before reqd deco
Jud’s replies came in quick succession:
Roger
Survey underway
Admiring her work, Jesse nodded. Compared to the navy, commercial diving played it safe in determining the amount of time you could stay down before requiring decompression stops on the ascent. But then again, nothing was gained by taking risks or being aggressive. While diving posed some hazards, nothing here was life or death, unlike the navy.
And Jesse was fucking grateful for that. Because he’d had enough life-or-death for a lifetime. He wore those losses on his skin, where he’d inked one star for every fallen friend and teammate. Twenty-two in all—twenty KIAs and two suicides. So enough was e-fucking-nough.
Forty minutes later, Jud was back on the GD. Taking off his helmet, his first words were “You gotta love life in flippers!”
Jesse chuckled despite himself. They were complete opposites—Jud was blond and gregarious and good-humored if a little ridiculous, while Jesse was dark and reserved and moody, which he had to own. But he liked the guy a lot. And he could probably use more ridiculous in his life anyway.
Jud was all business after that, giving Jesse the rundown of what he’d accomplished and where Jesse needed to pick up. Game plan in place, Jesse was ready to go.
He checked his computer, gave a thumbs-up, and grasped the railing as the diving stage descended. Even with his thermals, the water was cold as a motherfuck, but it had him smiling behind his viewport.
He might’ve let down too many families for not being able to bring all his guys home and that might’ve made him bad for the EOD field. But this? This he could totally do.
* * * *
“Good first day?” Tara asked as they hosed down their dry suits late that afternoon.
Jesse smiled as he hung his suit to dry. “Great first day.” It was true. He and Jud had finished more than a third of their zone, putting them a little ahead of schedule. And being back in the water had given Jesse an adrenaline high like he hadn’t experienced in too damn long.