One Bossy Disaster: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Bossy Seattle Suits)

There’s no time to think about broken hearts and sharp words.

The whole conversation collapses as Destiny and I exchange a look and head for the stairs.

By the time we get to the bridge, Juan is standing by the console, grim-faced, his shoulders squared.

A familiar look I’ve seen in the Marines plenty of times.

Body language is one of the biggest tells, and his stance says more than a thousand words.

Whatever’s going on, it’s fucking bad.

There’s another frantic burst of radio static on his comm system before it cuts out just as fast. Juan tries to reconnect, flicking switches and checking digital readouts, but there’s nothing.

No signal. We’re cut off.

Fuck.

“What’s going on?” I snap.

“There’s a nasty storm blowing in, Mr. Foster,” he says, every word tight. He’s been on the sea since he was a kid; this is his entire life. If he’s worried, that’s a bad sign. “Coast Guard is advising all craft to get off the open water.”

“What else?”

“Damn comm system has been sputtering out for the past half hour. I can’t get radio and there’s something interfering with our navigation. I sent George down to the engine room and told him to comb through everything. Haven’t heard from him for the better part of ten minutes, though.”

“Wireless?”

“Also down,” he reports. “Haven’t gotten a signal on my personal cell either for a couple hours.”

Shit.

I glance around, stopping on the digital radar screen that maps the ocean and landscape around us.

We’re further out than I realized, having followed the whales away from the nearest islands.

Right now, we’re drifting toward the open sea.

“What’s the closest port?” I ask.

“Victoria for a ship this size. Almost forty miles away.” His dark eyes shift to me and then away.

“It’s mostly rain so far. A lot of rain, coming down in buckets. Maybe we’ll miss the worst of it?” Destiny says cautiously.

She’s clearly worried, and though she understands what’s going on, she doesn’t realize we’re in serious trouble. I can’t decide if ignorance is a blessing or a curse.

I should have known it was too humid, perfect for kicking up these evening storms that like to plow through maritime traffic like a moose charging down a highway.

Normally, they’re no trouble in the modern age. With instant communications sending storm advisories well ahead of time, we should have been docked and out of harm’s way.

But without our comms and the engines fucking up, it’s a different scenario entirely.

“We can’t rely on waiting it out,” I say sharply. “You can never tell what might happen when that wind picks up. If they’re saying all ships to port, that’s all the warning we’ll get.”

I end it there.

No sense in scaring Destiny even more.

Fuck, I can’t believe this.

I checked the weather right before we stepped on the ship. Captain Juan also reads the atmosphere better than most meteorologists, and I’m confident he didn’t see it coming.

It shouldn’t even be possible for a state-of-the-art ship to wind up trapped in a raging storm like we’re back in the days of pirates and schooners.

Yet here we are.

“Just get us near land. San Juan, Vancouver Island, wherever,” I tell the captain. “If we can still chart a straight line back to the shore, we should be fine, yes?”

Juan nods curtly. “That’s the rub, sir.”

“What? Are the engines not working at all?”

His stone-cold silence says everything.

Oh, fuck me.

The worry curled around my heart tightens like a snake.

“George can’t figure out the issue. It’s not a safety shutoff or anything clogging the system. We’re just drifting, maybe a problem with the fuel line,” Juan says after a long moment.

For the first time, I notice I can’t feel the engines rumbling underneath us.

When did they stop?

Destiny sucks in a sharp breath and moves to the corner, kneeling next to Molly.

I have to grit my teeth, curling my hands into fists so I’m not tempted to hit something.

“Define drifting,” I demand, my voice low.

“System won’t fire up at all, Mr. Foster. It’s like they’re all offline. Since George is roughing it out down there alone, I was about to check out the problem myself before the wind picked up.”

Lovely.

Juan and Destiny both stare at me like they’re waiting for me to pull a magic solution out of the ether.

If we don’t have power or fuel to the engines, we’re beyond boned. The repair won’t be quick and might need to involve getting the right supplies out here.

“Hold on,” I say, keeping my voice level. Losing it now won’t help anyone. “Okay. We’ll head down together and see what’s going on. This is a good time to test that fancy autopilot system you talked me into installing last winter.”

Captain Juan smiles. “Hell of a time for it, sir, but I think we can trust it for ten minutes. I’ve played around with it plenty under normal conditions, but this—”

“This is where it shines. If it can’t keep us grounded in an emergency, then it’s useless.” I turn to Destiny. “Dess, I need you to stay on deck.”

“What? Here?” The moment I turn and see her face, I know it’s not going to be that easy.

Since when did Destiny Lancaster take my word at face value?

If I ever want her to do what I tell her, I need to earn that right.

And I guess I just lost it with the whole breakup speech.

The thought stings like seawater on a cut.

Her jaw works as she meets my gaze, her eyes blazing. She’s all fire now, animated by adrenaline and fear.

“You don’t just get to tell me what to do while you run off to the rescue,” she says, giving me the side-eye.

“This isn’t a game, sweetheart.”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me. If there’s a problem, I’m helping.”

“Which you will, right from the bridge. Plus, someone needs to stay with Molly. Just make sure the ship holds its position on the screen. Notify me the second anything changes while we go below deck. The automated system should do the rest.” I gesture to the portable radio sitting on the console for the crew, then take her wrist and haul her closer, refusing to let her look away from me. “Listen to me, Destiny. We can argue all you want later, when we’re safe. Right now, I need you to help me.”

Her nostrils flare. The angry glint in her eyes fades as she nods firmly.

Yes, I know this is the world’s shittiest timing, being blindsided by a storm and a major malfunction after she felt like I carved out her heart.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but this is my yacht. While you’re here, you’re my responsibility, and I’m damned sure keeping you safe” I tell her, trying to soften my tone, but I’m too aware that every second slipping by could be critical.

Judging by the giant green-red blob on the weather radar screen northwest of us, we haven’t seen anything from this storm yet. The worst is yet to come.

If there’s one thing we don’t have, it’s time.

The venom in her gaze cuts me.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe, Dess.”

“I will. For Molly’s sake.”

The implication is so obvious it guts me.

She thinks I don’t care about her.

“Goddammit,” I spit.

No matter what happens next, I can’t have her stewing and stressing up here, thinking I’m such a heartless cock it doesn’t matter if she lives or dies when the truth is so different.

I care too fucking much.

That’s always been the trouble.

“Make me regret this later,” I growl.

Before she can ask, I sweep her into my arms and crush my mouth down on hers until I’m stealing the breath from her lungs.

I only linger a second after I break away to make sure she’s still standing.

“Stay with Molly. We’ll be back ASAP.”

She doesn’t argue, and I have an odd feeling that’s the last good news I’m going to get.

With her eyes still burning my back, confused and hurt and stunned, I hurry the fuck up after Captain Juan, hoping I’ll buy us enough time to kick myself in the ass for that kiss later.