AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah, well, cut the whistling out.”
I raised my hands in a peace gesture. “Okay. Got it. Now, will you let me help you, please?”
“I’m fine.”
“I can see that. But maybe with my help, we can do this quicker, and you’ll get rid of me faster.”
“Good point.” She pointed to a row of scuba tanks contained in a metal cage. “Could you bring them down here?”
“Sure thing.”
As I reached for the first one, she started an engine that sounded like dozens of ball bearings bouncing around a metal drum.
Conversation was nearly impossible with the air compressor going. Using hand signals, we worked together to fill her ten scuba tanks with compressed air and return them to the cage.
She cut off the engine, pitching us into welcome silence. “Thanks.”
“No worries. What’s next?”
“Coffee.” A tiny smirk crossed her lips, and she swept her gaze up my bare chest, then turned on her heel to walk away.
“Do you normally start this early?” I asked, attempting conversation as I followed her long, striding legs.
“Yep.”
So much for small talk.
In the hut, I couldn’t believe Old Smithy had slept through that noisy engine. Indiana slapped his right foot, and he squinted at her with one eye.
“Go away.”
“You want coffee?” Indiana asked.
“I want sleep.”
“Not today, Dad. I need your help.”
Indiana and I both moved toward the kitchen together and we bumped shoulders. I paused to let her go first.
At the sink, she plucked a mug from a hook below the overhanging cupboards, and as she handed it to me, she seemed to watch for my reaction.
She expects me to cringe at the coffee staining the inside.
I didn’t.
“Thanks,” I said with a smile.
Before I’d become the designated driver for the Bolton crime family, I’d worked in one of his car mechanic yards. The business seemed legitimate on the books, but it was a front for his luxury stolen car racket and served as one of Bolton’s money laundering scams. The men who worked in that mechanic yard were some of the grubbiest men I’d ever met. To blend in, I’d had to drink out of the same filthy mugs they did.
As Indiana filled the kettle, I turned on my coffee machine and opened the packet of coffee pods I’d brought with me.
“You sure you don’t want one of these?” I showed her the purple pod. “I brought my favorite coffee blend.”
Her sneer was all the answer I needed.
“Your loss.” I shrugged and pressed the button to make my black coffee.
I scowled as she put two spoonsful of instant coffee and three sugars into two mugs and filled them with hot water.
