Capsized

by Julie Cannon

  “No, come on in,” I said, surprising myself.

  “You looked deep in thought.” Alissa stepped through the doorway. The bridge that could easily hold five or six people suddenly felt very small and intimate.

  “Just relaxing,” I said, which, although not the exact truth, was close enough.

  “You love what you do,” Alissa said, as much a statement as a question.

  “Absolutely. I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing.”

  “Have you always caught tuna?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you catch them?”

  “It’s pretty straight forward. We’re part of a two-boat team. We locate the tuna, corral them into the nets, and then pass them into the transport pens.”

  “How do you find them?”

  “We use a combination of sonar,” I pointed to a black screen in front of me, “and the crow’s nest,” I pointed above my head, “to locate them.”

  “The crow’s nest?”

  “It’s up top, thirty-eight feet above the bridge. When we get close to where we think the fish are, we man the nest.”

  Alissa looked confused so I added, “Tuna don’t have the same type of gills as other fish, so they have to surface more often to warm up and digest their food. They eat constantly because they’re so active. If it’s calm you can see them break the surface or spot dark patches in the water.”

  “How do you get them into the net?” I asked, trying to figure it all out.

  “We drop our nets,” she pointed to the rear of the boat, “off the stern and slowly circle them, all the while baiting them to keep them interested and in one place. We close the net and voila,” she opened both hands palms up, “a catch.”

  “How do you know what exactly you caught? Couldn’t there be other things inside the net?”

  “Flick goes into the water and takes a look at the size and quality of the fish, then reports back to me. We either keep them or…”

  “Throw them back.”

  Bert laughed. “Actually we let them swim but the concept is the same.”

  “Then you haul them back to shore?” That sounded like an incredible journey.

  “No, the holding pens are close by, and we tow the fish to the pens. We transfer them from our catch nets to the stronger, heavy-duty holding nets. They tow them back to the farm.”

  “The farm?”

  “Because we’re limited as to how much we can catch, we take what we trap, transfer them to the farm, and fatten them up. My brother runs the farm. It’s been in the family for decades. My other brother, Steve, is the captain of the transport boat.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “How many brothers do you have?”

  “Three.”

  “Any sisters?’

  “Nope.”

  “What does your other brother do? No, wait,” I said, holding up my hands to stave off her reply. “Let me guess. He runs the cannery. No, wait,” I repeated. “He does something completely different. He’s a doctor or a lawyer,” I said, teasing her.

  “Actually he’s dead.” Bert said evenly.

  Oh, shit.

  “He was in the army and was killed four years ago when his Humvee rolled over a land mine.”

  “Oh my God, Bert. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  “It’s all right. You didn’t know. As a matter of fact, Mitch was a translator and obviously a lot smarter than the rest of us. But look where that got him,” she murmured softly.

  I didn’t know what to say. I’d already stuck my foot, ankle, knee, and entire leg into that one and had no way to pull it out. Thankfully Bert threw me a lifeline.

  “So that’s how we fish.”

  “I can’t wait to see it. When will you start?”

  “Not for another few days. Over the years we’ve had to go farther and farther out for a catch.”

  “Over-fishing problem?”

  “It was. It still is in some cases. About fifteen years ago the feds started instituting catch limits, which have helped. Didn’t make the local fishermen happy, but if they’d kept on like they had been, there wouldn’t be any fish left. Then where would

  we be?”

  I tried unsuccessfully to hide a yawn.

  “You should go to bed,” Bert said. “I should have said it earlier. You’re still recovering and need your rest.”

  “Are you coming?”

  “Uh…” she mumbled.

  “Don’t tell me we’re going to have this discussion about where you’re going to sleep again.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Unless you don’t want to sleep with me.”

  “Uh…” Bert stammered again.

  “That’s not what I meant. I mean, that’s exactly what I meant but didn’t mean it that way.” Why did she make me say such stupid things?

  Bert was flustered and I started to relax. “Well, now that you ask,” she paused and turned to look at me, “I’ve thought of little other than that all day.”

  I’m sure my face flushed.

  “I didn’t look forward to sleeping in a chair or in the galley,” she said, clearing up her statement.

  “How long will you be?” I asked.

  “Not long.” She was fiddling with a knob on the dash in front of her. “Why don’t you go on down? I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

  I must be going out of my mind because I read very nasty things into almost everything she did and said. I’d rather she fiddled with my knobs, and the idea of going down was making my pulse pound in rather sensitive places. I had to get out of there before I either combusted or straddled her legs and fucked her right there in the captain’s chair.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Bert

  I almost slid out of my chair when Alissa asked me if I wanted to sleep with her. I was pretty sure I looked normal on the outside. Inside, however, was a completely different story. My heart started beating so hard I thought it would jump out of my chest and flop around on the floor. My pulse was racing like a car around the track of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, and I would swear I stopped breathing.

  YES, YES, YES, I wanted to say. From the very first moment you smiled at me. Every time you look at me and when I look at you. When you laugh, when you have that look of concentration on your face when you’re learning something new. When you were in my arms in the dark and first thing this morning. God, I was turning into a sap.

  What I said instead was something stupid and safe. I didn’t want to be rejected, and I certainly didn’t want Alissa to think she was required to sleep with me or that she owed me for saving her life. Lots of people would have played that card, but my honor got me nothing but a huge dose of frustration.

  Rock came in to relieve me and I headed down to my cabin, butterflies dancing around in my stomach like a flash mob. I dawdled on my way down the stairs, and by the time I reached my cabin I was a nervous wreck.

  “Jesus, Bert, it’s not like you’re planning to have sex for the first time,” I said out loud in the empty hall. “No, it’s worse. You want to have sex and shouldn’t.”

  I knocked lightly on the door a few times before opening it several inches. “Are you decent?” Are you decent? For God’s sake, Bert. Keep your mouth shut.

  Alissa laughed. “I don’t know if I’m decent, but you can come in.”

  I couldn’t catch a break tonight. It wouldn’t matter to me if Alissa was covered from ankle to wrist in a gunnysack or if she were wearing a red bra and matching panties. I would still want her. My hands shook as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me.

  I dared a look and saw Alissa sitting up in bed, the covers pulled up to her waist. The scene reminded me of the one in the classic lesbian movie Desert Hearts, where Kay is in Vivian’s bed waiting for her. Except in that movie she was naked, and here Alissa was wearing my T-shirt. Again, one scene wasn’t sexier than the other. I exhaled and grabbed a clean T-shirt and boxers and headed for the shower.

  “Six minutes,” Alissa said, teasi
ng me. “I saved you some hot water.”

  I needed much more than six minutes and definitely no hot water.

  I did what I needed to in the shower and debated whether I should take care of business before getting into bed with Alissa. I’m not a one-and-done type of girl, and with my luck that would only make things worse. I stared at myself in the small mirror.

  “You can do this. You’re a grown woman, not a teenage boy,” I said to myself, making sure my lips didn’t move and Alissa heard what I said. But that was part of the problem. I was a grown woman and knew what I wanted and how it felt, and it had been a long time since I felt anything other than my own hand.

  “You okay in there?” Alissa said from the other side of the door. Great, now I’m even more shook up. I opened the door before she came after me.

  “Yep, just finishing up,” I said, turning off the overhead light. The lamp next to the bed cast an intimate glow in the small room. When I was here alone, it provided just enough light to see, certainly not an intimate glow.

  Alissa slid closer to the wall and lifted the covers. My throat closed at the obvious invitation, innocent as it was. When a woman lifts the covers, I interpret her action as a flashing sign that says I want you to touch me and I want to touch you. I broke out in a sweat. I had to get into bed, not stand there like a dazed virgin. God, why did everything I said or thought have to do with sex?

  “Thanks,” I murmured as I slid in. I tried to keep as much space between us as I could, but it was next to impossible in the small bed.

  “Everything okay?” Alissa placed the covers over me.

  “Of course,” I lied.

  “You seem a little…I don’t know, nervous, or something.”

  “No, I’m fine,” I lied again. “Just a little tired.” I wondered how close to Hell I was going to go for lying three times in a row.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” What was one step closer, I wondered. Alissa turned on her side, facing me. Before she had a chance to say anything I asked, “So tell me something about Alissa Cooper I don’t know.” My mouth went dry when she smiled at me.

  “Considering we haven’t known each other very long, that’s quite a list.”

  “Start anywhere.”

  “I thought you were tired,” she said, drawing her eyebrows together. God, she looked cute doing that.

  “It’ll be like reading a book.”

  “Are you saying I’m boring?” she asked.

  “No, no, not at all,” I stammered. Jesus, what an ass, I thought.

  “Relax. I’m just teasing you,” she said, grinning. She tapped my arm, signaling me to lift it, and snuggled against my side.

  I wish I could.

  “I built my own house.”

  “You built a house?” I still wasn’t sure if she was telling me the truth or pulling my leg. I decided to play along for something to get my mind off the fact that she was lying in my arms, her hair smelling like my shampoo.

  “Actually, it was more of a remodel. But it was everything from shoring up the foundation to putting on a new roof,” Alissa said, a hint of a smile on her face.

  “How did you get started with that?” My body was still humming, but this conversation interested me.

  “I bought the place after I got my first job. It was a dump but had lots of potential and in a neighborhood I loved. I worked with an architect on the design, and the rest was sweat, calluses, a broken nail or two, and lots of hard work.”

  “Wow” was all I was capable of saying. “I had no idea.”

  “Why would you? You don’t even know me.”

  “I guess I never would have expected it from you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t look like a handywoman.”

  “What does a handywoman look like?”

  “She doesn’t wear a business suit and shoes that probably cost more than I make in a month. Jesus, I bet you paid more for your watch than I make in a year.”

  “Is that a problem?” Alissa asked, stiffening in my arms.

  “No, of course not,” I said quickly. “At least not to me. I thought you were beautiful. You just didn’t look like you would get your hands dirty and break a nail building a house.”

  Alissa relaxed. “Well, I do and I did. Several, as a matter of fact. And I almost broke my neck when I fell off a ladder.”

  “You fell off a ladder?”

  “Actually, I fell off the roof. I was stepping onto the ladder when my foot slipped, and down I went.”

  “Jesus, Alissa, you could have killed yourself.” This time my heart was racing at the thought of Alissa lying hurt on the ground.

  “I was lucky, that’s for sure.”

  Neither one of us said anything for quite some time. I didn’t know what Alissa was thinking, but I knew she wasn’t asleep. In a very short period of time I’d come to know the signs. The way her body slowly started to relax, muscle by muscle, and the way her breathing became deep and even told me she had fallen asleep.

  I wanted to say something, anything, just to hear her voice. There was a cadence, a rhythm to the way she talked, her choice of words, a slight accent that came through on only a few words. But I didn’t want to ruin the moment. With Alissa next to me in the silent night I felt a sense of calm I’d never experienced. I’d started to drift off when Alissa shifted, slightly snuggling closer to me.

  “And a certain amount of mystery keeps a girl interested,” she said sleepily.

  My heart flipped and I was once again wide-awake.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Bert

  Her touch was feather-light but heated my skin nonetheless. It all started when Alissa straightened my T-shirt where it was all bunched up from sleeping. I lay on my back, Alissa curled against me. She pulled down on the hem, then smoothed out the wrinkles by running her hand across the fabric covering my stomach several times. I know I didn’t have that many wrinkles, but when her fourth or fifth pass grazed the underside of my breasts, I didn’t care.

  I held my breath and prayed that her fingers would find their way under my shirt, then stifled a moan when they did. I didn’t know if I should pretend to still be asleep or become an active participant. I chose the former, not wanting to risk her stopping what she was doing. If she thought I was asleep maybe she’d keep going or, if I was really lucky, go even farther. I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed the feel of her fingers on my skin.

  Her hand grew bolder, and her touch turned from exploratory to caressing. Her path didn’t quite reach my nipple, and she slipped one, then two fingers under the waistband of my boxers. I was so focused on my nipples screaming for attention that I couldn’t help but suck in a breath when she did that. My back arched in a weak attempt to maintain contact when she slid them out. I felt her smile against my chest and had no doubt that she could hear and feel my heart pounding rapidly. When her palm grazed my nipple I moaned. There was no way she couldn’t know I was awake. I couldn’t do much in this position, but I caressed the places on her shoulder and arm that I could reach. Her skin was soft and warm, and I wanted to touch every inch. Even though I swallowed another moan when her fingers tweaked my nipple, my body immediately responded, leaving no doubt of how good that felt. She shifted up on an elbow, and at that point I opened my eyes.

  Her eyes were crystal clear and the deepest shade of blue I’d ever seen. I detected darker flecks of color that I hadn’t noticed before. But then again I’d never been two inches from them. She searched my eyes as if looking for a sign, a signal that she could kiss me, touch me, taste me. I was afraid of what I’d say if I tried to talk so I conveyed the yes, please that was screaming to get out through my own eyes. Thank God she was a mind reader.

  Her kisses were soft. First one, then another, then another as she caressed my face with her lips. I lifted my chin, granting her access to my jaw, the curve of my neck, the contours of my collarbones. Her lips weren’t the only thing exploring my body. Her hands roamed over my
arms, my back, and slid under my shirt again. Her mouth returned to mine, this time hot and hungry for more. I buried my hands in her hair and pulled her close, deepening the kiss. She moved on top of me, her weight like a soft, warm blanket. She slid one leg between mine and pressed against me. Her mouth stifled my moan, but my body arched at the sensation.

  My hands slid up and down her back and up again, taking the hem of her shirt with me. Our mouths separated for the instant it took to pull the impeding fabric over her head. Her mouth came back to mine, and she kissed me again as I had never been kissed before. Her mouth worshipped mine and I could have kissed her forever. Alissa, however, had other ideas.

  She pulled away from me slightly and tugged my shirt over my head, then tossed it somewhere on the floor. She lowered herself again and closed her eyes as our breasts touched. I inhaled sharply at the sensation, and my heart pounded.

  Alissa returned to my lips and kissed me long and deep. I felt her hands at the waistband of my boxers again. I mimicked her moves, and this time it was her turn to moan. She slid her hand inside, and I held my breath for the instant she touched me.

  There would never be another time like this. The first touch, the first evidence of slick wetness on fingers. She pulled her mouth away from mine and dropped her mouth to my breast as her fingers traced the outline of my sex. I lifted one leg, giving her more access, and didn’t try to temper my moan of desire.

  “Bert?”

  I heard my name in the distance, coming toward me like sound in a fog.

  “Bert, wake up.”

  This time the sound was louder, and even through my sex-crazed brain the words weren’t what I was expecting to hear. I opened my eyes and looked into the darkness. Alissa wasn’t above me; she wasn’t even on top of me. Two seconds later I knew I still wore the clothes I’d gone to sleep in. What the hell?

  “Bert. Wake up.”

  I lifted my head and looked around. Alissa was sitting up beside me. It was still dark, but the porthole beside the bed let in enough light to let me see a look of concern on her face.

  “You were dreaming. You were moving around and moaning like you were in pain.”