Um. What?
I wanted to protest. Fishlipped, I'm sure of it, my denial that this stranger-arrogant and instantly unlikeable or not-thought he could muscle his way into our treasure hunt without our permission making my stomach knot into a ball of intense need to shove him off the end of the dock.
I didn't. I behaved. Only because I was literally held in place by shock. If I'd been better prepared? Yeah, no promises he'd have survived the splash.
"Allow me to explain." He had to use that smarmy TV host tone of voice, that fake let me take care of everything, honey, there's a good girl kind of condescending attempt to get his own way, didn't he? Just when I was starting to despise him.
Snarl.
"Please," Crew said at his most dry, a sure sign he was about to implode or explode or something that would do damage to the still smiling man in front of us. "Do."