Crazy for Love

Max smiled. “No, I’m not.”

“Dare I ask if you’re using your time off wisely?”

“Now, that would be a ridiculous question, wouldn’t it?”

“Ha. You’re just like I was in my youth. You’ll settle down someday.”

Yeah, Max was a real party animal.

“So,” the captain said tentatively, “you got my message about Randy? Think you can set aside your differences for a few months?”

“I don’t think so, Cap.”

“Perhaps if you just avoid him in port? There are plenty of women to go around.”

Max considered a few lines. Some harmless falsehoods that would cover the truth. But then he thought of how free he’d felt speaking the truth to Chloe. The captain didn’t need to be manipulated in this case. Max didn’t have to smile and lie. He took a deep breath. “He’s reckless and he disobeyed my direct orders on several occasions. He’s a danger to himself and everyone on the team. I won’t work with him again.”

Silence hissed through the phone.

“Captain?”

“I’ve never heard you speak a cross word about anyone, Sullivan. Consider him banned from the ship.”

His shoulders slumped in relief. “Good. Thank you.”

“Is everything all right, Max? You sound a bit grim.”

“I’m good,” he lied, purposefully adding some reckless good humor to his tone. “Just overdoing it, I’m sure.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you in a few weeks. Let’s see if we can get that site finished up. My researchers have turned up some great leads on that Macedonian wreck I was telling you about.”

Max hung up and leaned against the wall, letting his eyes close and his head fall back. Maybe this island trip hadn’t been a complete disaster. If he could learn to throw a little truth around with his bullshit, maybe his life would be easier. But the idea didn’t stop the hot pressure that settled on his chest when he thought of returning to the ship. He didn’t want to go back. He never did. But he’d known some of those divers for more than ten years and their lives were his responsibility. How was he ever supposed to set himself free of that?

In the end, it would probably make no difference. He picked up lead weights of responsibility everywhere he went, even when he made every effort to keep a distance.

Chloe Turner was just one stop in a long line of trouble, and Max could see the endless string of his life stretching on forever, punctuated in even intervals by anchors. He wouldn’t be able to move past this one without adding it to his load. Damn.

Pushing off the wall, he walked to the doorway to find Elliott still sprawled out on the couch, his forearm covering his eyes.

Max set his shoulders. Going after Chloe would be a huge mistake, the kind he’d determined not to keep making in his life. He couldn’t keep picking up burdens, but the problem was he’d already walked right up to hers. Now it was sitting in his path, blocking his way at every turn.

Max raised his chin and pasted a smile on his face. “Hey, Elliott, what do you say we go get drunk?”

“I say yes.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TWO NIGHTS LATER, Max couldn’t deny that they’d successfully carried out their plan for drunkenness. In fact, he’d been nursing a hangover for twenty-four hours straight, but he couldn’t talk himself out of bellying up to the bar again, regardless. So here they sat, morose and silent and staring at the largest television in the bar.

The place was packed now, loud with the chatter of locals excited about their brush with fame. Max and Elliott had managed to maintain their anonymity for the most part, but occasionally, someone put two and two together, and figured one of these guys from the resort must be the man sleeping with the infamous Bridezilla.

Like tonight’s bartender, for example. “So,” he said with a suspiciously casual air. “Which one of you is Elliott?”

Max and Elliott exchanged a glance of tired impatience. “Who wants to know?” Max asked.

“Just curious,” the guy said.