Chapter 13
Gail woke alone, uncertain if she remembered what she thought she remembered. She’d been so out of it that it was possible she’d imagined the whole thing. Two things convinced her that it had really happened.
One, her body felt so glorious that mere sleep didn’t begin to explain it.
Two, the note atop her neatly folded clothes: Good morning, Chief. No smiley face. No goofy little heart. Just a hundred percent pure Sly Stowell.
She showered, with no real idea what time it was, and headed for the galley.
Which Tanker promptly threw her out of.
She found herself standing out in the Officer’s Mess holding a tray with blueberry waffles, a fruit compote, and a mug of coffee; feeling horribly disoriented.
Someone waved at her. Trisha.
Gail wandered over and settled at the table
