Tsunami Blue by Gayle Ann Williams

embarrassed. “Max and I were working on it, you know. The language thing.”
    “I know.” He smoothed my hair. “That’s what I love about you. You have a unique way of doing things”—he winked—“and wording things. I find it quite adorable.”
    Adorable? I’d been called a lot of things in my life, but I was pretty sure that adorable had never been one of them. What was happening to my tough-girl image? When I got my knife back, I’d have to kick his ass again. But out of respect for my Max, I was really gonna work on the language thing. One way or another, I’d be talking on the airwaves soon. And if I understood Gabriel correctly, there were more children out there than I could have dreamed of. Hell—that is, heck—two of them were on this boat.
    I glanced at our little audience above and I knew they’d seen just a good-morning kiss, albeit a really, really good one. Gabriel was fully dressed and I was well covered; still, I felt raw and vulnerable and exposed. All because of one kiss. Okay. I admit it: one amazing kiss.
    “Cool tattoo,” one of the kids said. “Looks like a wave.”
    “I wonder if she has big boobs,” the other one said, louder than he meant to.
    I burst out laughing. “The boys are going to be disappointed.”
    Gabriel jumped up and flattened his palm on the glass, scaring the boys into flight. He could sure play the tough guy. But I thought I’d seen a glimpse of the real Gabriel Black, and maybe, just maybe it was time I listened to what he had to say. If I didn’t like it, I could still throw him overboard.
    The boys thudded across the top deck.
    Gabriel bent down and brushed his lips on mine. “They won’t be disappointed, Blue. They’ll fall in love.”
    As he left the tiny stateroom and slid the door closed behind him I heard him yell, “Get your butts down here for pancakes, ya little gangsters.”

     

Chapter Ten

    I sat across from the twin boys on my little bench and ate pancakes while drinking Starbucks Christmas Blend. With cream. I was on my fifth cup.
    The boys hadn’t been able to take their gaze off me and I could see that their curiosity was killing them.
    “Better slow down on that coffee, Bambi,” Gabriel said. “Might make you edgy.”
    I gave Gabriel the look. The exact same one I’d given him forty-five minutes ago when he first introduced me to the boys. As Bambi. I mean, really. I remembered a small ad on the back of that Thunder Down Under calendar from Las Vegas, the one where Gabriel Black looked like Mr. December. Come see Bambi and her amazing pole , it read. Somehow, I didn’t think they were referring to the Disney deer.
    “So, um, Bambi. How’d you and Just Gabe hook up?”
    The boys, ten-year-old twins named Nick and Alec, had shortened Gabriel to “Just Gabe.” It seemed to be an inside joke between them. According to the boys, Gabriel was quite the mother hen, always giving advice, hovering, worrying, lecturing. The boys had taken to exasperated sighs, eye rolling, and saying in unison their favorite expression, “Don’t worry, that’s Just Gabe.”
    I glanced at Gabriel and tried to picture him as Just Gabe. Or maybe Just Good Old Gabe. Nope. It wasn’t workin’ for me. Just Gabe was still just good old pain-in-my-ass Gabriel Black. Kidnapper. Runner. Pirate.
    Still, as I watched Gabriel around the boys, dishing up pancakes, making them drink their milk, smoothing their wild hair, I saw something else. I saw the way he looked at them. I saw pride in the way he would pat their shoulders, I saw worry when he examined Alec’s skinned elbow, but mostly I saw love in those dark eyes. These boys were special to him. And honestly? I didn’t know how to process the boy’s version of Just Gabe, with my version of Gabriel the Runner.   
    “Hello? Bambi? How’d you hook up?” Nick asked again impatiently.
    Hook up? I tilted my head toward Twin One and thought of the cuffs. Let’s see, how to answer? “Well, Nick, I guess you