Chapter 79: Reid
I’m sitting on the couch with my laptop open, pretending to focus on the notes from our last field run, but I’ve reread the same damn paragraph six times. The words don’t stick.
They haven’t since she left.
Charlie stopped by a couple of hours ago to go over the new gear and protocols. She was all smiles, energy in motion, explaining how we’d finally have authorization for shallow dives within the week. Madeline would’ve loved that news—hell, she deserves it after everything—but she ran out before she could hear it.
I can still see it—her wide eyes when she saw Charlie at the door, the way she stumbled out like she couldn’t get away fast enough.
I rub a hand over my face and force myself to type another useless line. But my head keeps going back to earlier.
When I picked her up.
When I set her on the counter.
When I stood between her legs.
Christ.
The things that ran through my head in that moment—dark, wicked thoughts I didn’t even know I was capable of thinking about someone like her. I wanted to patch her up, tell Jake to fuck off, and take her upstairs. To see if she’d look at me the same way she does when she’s nervous—like she wants to trust me, even if she doesn’t know how.
I had to fight myself not to move. Not to touch her again.
She’d be terrified if she knew the truth—what I think when I look at her.
I tried to hate her for that. Still do, sometimes.
But I can’t seem to hate her without wanting her, too.
The door clicks open, and Jake walks in, jacket slung over his arm. I look up and raise a brow.
He doesn’t say anything at first, just sits in the armchair across from me and exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours.
“Got her something to eat at the diner,” he says finally.
“For four hours?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Yeah.”
Something in me bristles. I don’t know why. I shouldn’t care. But I do. Everything about her pisses me off—her voice, her eyes, her laugh—and somehow Jake taking her to lunch pisses me off even more.
“She talked,” he adds after a moment. “Once she starts, she really talks. About her studies, about the whales, about everything.”
I stare at the wall, half listening, half furious.
“She panicked again, though.”
That gets my full attention. “Panicked?”
He nods. “I mentioned the city, and she thought I was telling her to go back. Lost it for a second.”
A cold weight settles in my chest. “And?”
“She said she doesn’t have many people there. That the city feels… scary sometimes. Didn’t say much more than that.”
I nod slowly. “Something happened there. Or someone.”
The phone call flashes through my head—the one that made her crumble outside that coffee shop. “If we factor that in, it’s not just nerves.”
Jake nods again, silent. Then he exhales. “Didn’t feel right letting her go back into that house, too. With Sloane there.”
I think, or with Finn and Liam.
Jake looks at me like he heard it anyway. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I overheard them talking about her the morning of the accident.”
I meet his gaze. “What were they saying?”
“They’re both into her,” he admits. “Like Sloane said.”
I let out a long breath, rubbing at the back of my neck. “They’re twenty-one and twenty-three. Stuck in a small town with two women around their age—one of them already off-limits. It’s normal.”
Jake gives a short nod, but we both know it’s not the same. Finn and Liam never went this crazy for Charlie. Never looked at her like that.
After a stretch of silence, I ask, “What do you think Sloane’s problem is?”
He shrugs. “You know her better than I do.”
“I don’t,” I say. “Not anymore.”
Sloane’s never been the jealous type. Never cared enough about anyone to want to make them miserable. So what the hell changed? Maybe it’s the tension in the house—the way Finn and Liam orbit around Madeline, the way the air gets tight when she walks into a room. Maybe Sloane resents her for it.
“Could be resentment,” Jake says as if he thought the same again, leaning back. “Maybe we should check in on the house soon. See for ourselves.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll talk to Charlie.”
He hums in agreement, but his eyes drift off, lost somewhere I can’t follow. From where I’m sitting, I can still smell her perfume on him—light, soft, that faint vanilla that’s been haunting me since the night by the seawall.
I shut my laptop before I do something stupid—like tell him to take a shower and wash it off.
“I’m gonna head to bed,” I mutter, standing up.
Jake just nods, eyes still distant. “’Night.”
I head down up the stairs, jaw tight, heart pounding, hating every single thought that crosses my mind.
Because I know I won’t dream of anything else but her.
The water in the shower hits my skin scalding hot, but it doesn’t burn nearly enough.
I brace a hand against the tile, letting the spray crash down my back, trying to think about anything else—schedules, weather patterns, the damn latch on the storage door. But the second I close my eyes, all I see is her.
Madeline on the counter, legs parted just enough for me to fit between. The way her breath caught when I touched her, the sound she made when Jake tightened the stitches. The way her pupils blew wide, like she didn’t know whether to run or lean in closer.
And fuck—
I can’t help it.
The pressure that’s been building since the first day she stepped on the boat finally snaps. It’s almost violent, the way it breaks through me. Every thought, every ounce of restraint, burns away under the water until all that’s left is her name in my mouth and the ghost of her scent in my lungs.
When it’s over, I press my forehead against the cool tile, breathing hard, disgusted and relieved all at once. I shouldn’t want her like this. She’s off-limits. She’s my employee. She’s… herself.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t fucking stop.
When I finally make it to bed, the sheets feel too cold. I lie there staring at the ceiling, my chest rising too fast, my head pounding with everything I’m not supposed to feel.
Soon, I’m going to have to make up my goddamn mind.
Either I don’t like her—end of story. Keep it professional. Pretend that every time she walks into a room my entire body doesn’t react like I’ve been starving for years.
Or I do.
And if that’s the case…
I need to do something about it.
Before Jake does.
Before Finn or Liam even try.
Because one way or another, she’s not walking away from this untouched.