Their Home Port

Excerpt

After a couple minutes, she fell into the repetition of entering the tow log data. Her mind wandered, though she carefully kept it from wandering too far into speculation about the man across the room.

When she reached the end of the small stack of papers, she glanced up from her computer. Micah had his eyes on her, and he didn’t try to hide his stare.

“Problem?” Reesa asked, cursing herself for the heat that spread across her face.

“Nope.” He grinned. “Sorry if I make you uncomfortable.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you’re all that sorry.” Truthfully, she didn’t mind his attention. Her discomfort came from her reaction to him, not from him. From her blush, from the rapid beating of her heart, and from the heat between her legs.

“You’re right, I’m not.” He gave her one of his cute little winks. “It isn’t exactly fascinating sitting here waiting for dispatch communications, and having an attractive woman—who isn’t here for decoration—in the same room is a little distracting.”

“Glad you remembered why I’m here,” she said. If any other man had said something that corny to her, she’d have gone up one side of him and down the other. Men who acted like they deserved a woman’s attention drove her nuts. She should have remembered that when she’d started talking with Charles.

Then again, the failed date with Charles had led her to this job, and to Micah. So maybe she owed the jackass a little bit of thanks.

From Micah, though, his comment didn’t sound corny or lame. He was so honest about his interest that it didn’t even come close to offending him.

Which didn’t mean she’d give him an easy time. “Maybe I should leave so you don’t miss anything on the radio.”

“Ah, except that if you leave, I’d have to tell Dad you didn’t finish the paperwork,” he countered. “You don’t want to disappoint the boss, do you?”

“I wouldn’t, except that I’ve already finished.” She held up the logs she’d entered, then made an exaggerated show of taking the tow log binder down from the shelf above the computer. “See? I’ve done my job. So you have nothing to tattle to your father about.”

“I guess I didn’t do a good enough job of distracting you, then,” he said solemnly.

She stifled a laugh, one partly of humor and partly sheer joy at finding Micah capable of keeping up with her banter. Most of the men she’d encountered either took her seriously when she made wisecracks or simply looked confused. Micah had not only recognized that she was joking, he’d played right along.

This job might turn out even better than she’d thought.

“I guess it’s a good thing that I’m not easily distracted,” she said. “Not finishing my work wouldn’t bode well for my future with the company.”

“You know, I do have a little clout with the boss,” Micah said confidentially. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll put in a good word.”

“Nice to you?” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Why, Mr. Ward, whatever do you mean?”

“Call me Micah,” he growled. “Mr. Ward is my father.” He walked over to stand behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure if you try, you’ll figure out how to be nice to me.”

“Oh, Mr. Ward, I think this constitutes sexual harassment.”

He laughed so hard he bent over, though he kept his hand on her shoulder. “Well played. It is definitely nice to have someone here to joke around with.”

“And to grope, apparently.” Playfully, she swatted his hand. “Now who’s being distracting?”

“Ah, I’m doing it deliberately, though. And you’ve finished your work.” He perched on the edge of the counter beside her. “You’re distracting just by being so pretty.”

Another corny line that would have annoyed her from anyone else. From Micah, it actually sounded complimentary. “I’ll wear a bag over my head if that helps you keep your mind on the job,” she offered.

“Don’t you dare.”