Free Depths of Salvation (Love on the Edge) by Molly E. Lee Page A

a rotor until it was so tight I couldn’t move. Basically tied me to the bottom of the ship, which was still running. And I had been cutting metal—and with that kind of heat you’re splitting water molecules, creating hydrogen pockets—and they were all around me.” His eyes trailed to the side, lost in the memory. Funny, I figured he’d show terror or pride at having survived, but he maintained his aloof calm while telling the story. “I was sure one would hit the flame and blow the whole ship up . . .” He adjusted in his seat and shrugged. “But it didn’t.”
    He sounded disappointed. Was I that drunk? Who would be sad over not dying?
    “That must have been terrifying. I’ve never worked with open flames before. Damn. How long did it take to work the tangle?”
    “An hour.”
    I shook my head. “What did you do?”
    “Nothing.”
    I raised my eyebrows, begging him for more.
    He shrugged. “I stayed still. Managed to get the torch off after a few minutes. Thought about . . .” He pinched the bridge of his nose for a few moments before he grabbed the last remaining shot on the table and inhaled it in one gulp. He held the empty up to the waitress, who glanced at him from another table.
    A weight settled over my shoulders, but my fuzzy brain was slow on the draw. “Impressive that you came out of that without a scratch.”
    “Part of the job.”
    “Right. I get that. I was in a silt-fall on my last site. Blacked out everything around me. I couldn’t see a damn thing, and I was inside the cave, of course, and lost all sense of direction. When I realized the sediment wouldn’t settle before my tank was out and that no one was getting my radio for help, I slowly worked my way outward. I honestly don’t know how I found my way out of the cave and to the surface. It was like something was—“
    “Guiding you?” Connell cut me off.
    “Yeah. Exactly. Like a magnet.”
    He nodded. “Been there. I think it’s the ocean.”
    I tilted my head. “I’m not following.”
    He raked his hand through his hair as he leaned forward on the table, a slight sheen over his hazel eyes. “The ocean. When you spend enough time in it, become one with it . . . it doesn’t let you go easily.”
    My heart kicked up a few notches. I didn’t know anyone else who felt that way about the sea like I did. Not even my team. It was work for them. It was for me, too, but it was also . . .
    “Home,” I said out loud.
    “Right.”
    I laughed.
    “What?” he asked, his last taco in hand.
    “I usually get the she’s crazy looks when I talk like that.”
    “Oh, you probably are,” he said but laughed before he took a huge bite. “But I am, too, so there is that.”
    Warmth filled my chest that had nothing to do with the liquor I’d had. We were getting somewhere. After our waitress had dropped off another round of shots, my hopes were at an all-time high to keep him talking.
    We each drank another one, and I made sure to finish off my burger before I even thought about drinking more.
    “So, who did you leave behind in Oklahoma?” I asked after the waitress had cleared our plates.
    He flinched, and I instantly regretted the question. Damn . A woman no doubt.
    He took another shot and set it down. “Where is home for you?” he asked instead of answering.
    Noted.
    “Phoenix. But I haven’t lived there since I was seventeen. I visit as often as I can, but you know how much you have to travel for the jobs we have.”
    He smirked. “Wasn’t it you last night giving me shit about not living near a coast?”
    I raised my hands in defense. “I wasn’t giving you shit! I was surprised; that’s all.”
    “Could say the same about you.” He stretched his arms over his head, the motion lifting his shirt just enough to remind me of the ridiculous set of abs he was rocking. I looked away as quickly as I could, not needing the temptation to throw myself at him while I was already seriously buzzing.
    “Seems like we’re two