Gail hadn’t expected to see Sly when she’d come up on deck for some fresh air. She’d actually been thinking of getting as far away from him as possible.
His hovercraft was parked six decks below. It lay at the water level and here she stood looking up at the sunset sky.
So, of course, he was here.
And of course he had hurried over, spotting her the very second she’d stepped onto the Flight Deck. Couldn’t the man be some oblivious jerk who bedded a woman and moved on, looking awkwardly aside ever after.
No.
Instead he’d proven himself considerate, funny, and had carefully driven away the moment the dark shadows of doubt crossed over his features.
She wanted to retreat back to the steel safety of her galley. Pull on the white cloak and hat of “chef” and disappear back into her own coco
