Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel)

by Tiffinie Helmer

  “I’ve been called worse. In fact, if memory serves, I’ve been called worse by you.”

  He took a deep breath and held it before letting it out in a rush. This was not where he wanted their first conversation in over nine months to go. It was like they’d picked up right where they’d left off, but they were wearing more clothes this time. “I don’t want to go there.”

  “Then don’t.” She fidgeted like she wanted to leave.

  “Aren’t you worried about what the other set netters are going to think?” Couldn’t she see the troubles she was about to bring down on herself?

  “I don’t waste time worrying about what anyone thinks of me.”

  “You should. Word’s got around what you’re planning this summer. A lot of people don’t like it.”

  “I’m out here to fish, not to gain in popularity.”

  “I’ve heard things, Sonya. Not nice things. You need to be worried.”

  Her gaze hardened. “Do I need to worry about you?”

  He sucked in a breath remembering what he’d done last summer. He never should have said those things. Did those things. “No. Not from me.”

  “What about Cranky and Crafty?”

  He smiled at her nicknames for Earl and Roland. “I’ll keep them in line.” At least he’d try.

  “I’d appreciate it.” She made to leave, and he grabbed her arm.

  “Listen, Sonya. About that night—”

  She stiffened under his hand. “Forget it.”

  “I can’t. If I hadn’t—”

  “I said forget it.” Her voice hardened.

  He let go of her arm and ran a hand through his hair. “I really messed up…and I wanted, needed, to tell you that I’m sorry.” There he’d said it, finally apologized for being an ass. He should be getting pretty good at it by now.

  She narrowed her eyes as though wondering if he was truly sorry or just trying another tactic. “Apology accepted.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Want to take a walk?”

  “Just because I accepted your apology doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten.” She turned away, and then looked back over her shoulder. “I won’t be taking any walks with you, Aidan. I never repeat mistakes.”

  “You don’t believe in second chances?”

  “Not for you and me.”

  “I’ve changed, Sonya. I spent time working on my…issues. I won’t ever do that again.”

  “Good. I hope you don’t. But you won’t get another chance at me. That boat’s sailed.”

  “So how’d it go between you and Aidan?” Gramps didn’t mince words when Sonya entered the cabin. He and Grams were sharing a cup of cocoa and a plate of shortbread cookies. Wes and Peter were nowhere in sight.

  “Fine.” Sonya had shed her chest waders and hung them in the gear room, taking a bit of time to compose herself after her run-in with Aidan. The man was still as handsome as ever. Black hair, always in need of a cut, dark stubble that sexed him up, haunted brown eyes. He seemed older and sadder, but she wouldn’t let that sway her.

  She grabbed a cup and mixed herself some cocoa, snagging a couple of cookies.

  “What happened between you two? You were a mite cozy last year.” Gramps bit into his cookie as he watched for her reaction. Sonya knew he hated being out of the loop.

  “Don’t pester the child, Nikky,” Grams chided.

  “I’m not pestering,” he scoffed. “I’m concerned. Aidan’s a good man. Good marriage material. Likes to fish. I want to know why she keeps turning men like him away.” He narrowed his attention to Sonya. “You want to get married, don’t you?”

  She sighed and sat. “Yes, Gramps. I want to get married and have a family. I’ve got plenty of time for both.”

  “Well, I don’t. I want me some great grandbabies and with your snail-like approach, I won’t be getting any.”

  “So, you’d be happy with me shacking up with anyone as long as it gets you a great grandkid?”

  “Don’t get smart. Of course not. I want you happy too.”

  “I am happy.” She softened her tone and gave him a crooked smile full of affection. “Gramps, I don’t need a man to make me happy. I’m responsible for doing that all on my own.”

  He reached over and laid his hand over Grams’. “I want you to have what Maggie May and I have.”

  “Some aren’t as lucky as the both of you.”

  “Hogwash. You make your own luck and right now you aren’t even open to love. You need some romance in your life. You’re way too serious.”

  “Why don’t we take a break from this?” Grams picked up the plate of cookies and offered them to Gramps. “Have another cookie, Nikky.”

  “I’ve had enough cookies. I’m going to go help Peter and Wes with the nets.”

  Grams shook her head as she watched him leave. “He means well.”

  “I know. He’s just stubborn and likes things his own way.”

  “He’s not the only one.” Grams gave Sonya a knowing look over the rim of her cup. “What’s the real story between you and Aidan?” She took a sip.

  Sonya set down her cup. “I’d rather not get into it.”

  “Did he hurt you?” Her eyes were steady, serious. There would be no flirting around the truth this time.

  “Yes.” Sonya gazed into her hot chocolate. If she told her grandmother the whole truth, there would be no coming back from it. The tentative peace between the Hartes’ and Savonskis’ fish camps would cease. “I thought I could care for him. It hurt knowing that I couldn’t.”

  She wouldn’t allow herself to love a man who’d hit her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Garrett had no problem finding the Savonskis’ fish camp the following evening. A bonfire happily snapped in the slight breeze, and smoke peppered the salty ocean air. A group of people sat around the fire, laughter flickering along with the flames. They all turned as he pulled up on the ATV—the main mode of transportation for navigating the rough beaches of South Naknek.

  “Well, if it isn’t Garrett. Welcome, welcome.” Nikolai met him as he dismounted the 4-wheeler and pocketed the key. “Have any problem finding us?”

  “Not a one, sir.”

  “None of this ‘sir’ business. Call me Nikolai.” He motioned for him to follow. “Come, meet everyone. You’ve already met my wife, Margaret, and Peter. This is Wes Finley, Aidan Harte, and his cousin, Lana. The Hartes have the camp across the creek. Ah, and here comes Sonya.” Nikolai smiled. “Sonya, look who showed up.”

  Garrett thought her step faltered when she noticed him, but she moved so smoothly that he wasn’t sure. She carried a cooler, and he hurried to take it from her. Obviously a little too eager, as her eyes widened and then quickly narrowed.

  “I got it,” she said not releasing her hold on the cooler.

  “Let me.” He thought, for a moment, he would have to fight her for it.

  She wore jeans and a sweatshirt with “Fish Goddess” printed across the front. The air around them thickened as she held his gaze. She seemed to come to a decision and released her hold on the cooler.

  This woman did something to him. With just a look he felt…singed.

  “Bring the food on over,” Peter hollered. “Some of us are starving here.”

  Yeah, it seemed he was hungry too.

  “You’ve got the food.” Sonya’s lips tilted at the corners.

  “What food?” Garrett asked, knowing he could drown in the depths of her eyes.

  “The cooler.” She pointed at what he held. “It’s full of food.”

  “Right.” He laughed. “I guess I’m holding up the festivities.”

  Her brows rose. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

  Heat infused his body. She turned and made her way to the fire and the group conversing around the open flames. Those very flames might as well have been licking down his spine. He followed and set the cooler where Nikolai indicated.

  “Like the looks of my granddaughter, don’t ya?” Nikolai said.


  “What’s not to like?” Then he remembered who he was talking to. “That is, Sonya seems like a very nice woman.”

  Nikolai chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Passion is a necessity of life, and Sonya has passion. She just needs the right man. You the right man, Garrett Hunt?”

  Hell if he knew. It wouldn’t be a stretch to be the right man for her, right now.

  Over the flames, Sonya observed Garrett talking to Gramps as he roasted a hotdog over the fire. The lowering sun highlighted the spiky ends of his short hair. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to put her hands on him. A distraction this summer wouldn’t benefit her situation. She was juggling too many balls in the air to add another.

  Unless it was just sex.

  Now there was a thought. Maybe that’s what she needed to take the edge off. Lord knew it had been a while. Garrett definitely looked as though he could satisfy that need.

  Aidan dropped onto the log next to her. “See something you like?”

  She flicked a glance at him. “Got something to say?”

  “Don’t make me jealous, Sonya.”

  The warning sent a trickle of unease snaking around her insides. “I don’t make you anything. It’s up to you, what you feel.” Just like it was up to her what she felt, and she refused to let Aidan make her feel intimidated.

  “What do you want from me?” Aidan asked.

  She tried not to be swayed by the hurt shining in his eyes. “I don’t want anything from you, Aidan. I thought I made that clear.”

  “By the end of fishing, I will change your mind.” He rose and moved toward his pretty cousin, Lana, who Peter was trying his best to impress.

  As she watched him go, a pang of sadness intruded. No, he wouldn’t change her mind. Garrett moved into her view, holding a plate loaded with food, and she gladly focused on him.

  “Mind if I take this seat?” he asked.

  Maybe a distraction was just what she needed. “Please.”

  “You going to eat?” He took a big bite out of his mustard-coated dog, leaving a smudge of yellow at the corner of his lips. She wanted to lick it off.

  He wiped at the mustard with his napkin and paused, catching her gaze. “What?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You were staring.”

  “Was I?”

  “Definitely.”

  Wow, it was getting hot. She’d have to move away from the campfire. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.” His eyes widened over her words and she quickly excused herself to get some food before she helped herself to him.

  Grams held out a roasting stick when Sonya walked over to her. “You seem to be hitting it off with Garrett.” She pointed to Gramps who was retelling the story of when he’d bested a bear on this very beach to Wes, Peter, and Lana. They’d all heard it before, but never tired of it. “Nikky will be pleased.”

  Sonya skewered a hotdog with her stick. “Let’s keep it between us. It’ll just swell his head.”

  Grams laughed and handed her a plate with a serving of baked beans, potato salad, canned fruit cocktail, and a bun just how she liked it, smothered with relish and mustard. “You want onions with that?” she asked with a knowing smile.

  “Not tonight.”

  “He does look like he knows how to make a woman’s toes curl.”

  “Grams.”

  “I’m not so old that I don’t appreciate a fine looking man.”

  Sonya took her plate and went back to Garrett. She set her plate between them. Better to be on the safe side. This attraction was coming on too hot. Needed to cool it down. A glance at Aidan glaring at the two of them reminded her of what happened when she didn’t take time to think.

  “So, where you from, Garrett?” she asked. Best way to start thinking was to begin finding out information. The man could be married for heaven sakes. Though she doubted it. He didn’t have that “caught” look about him.

  “Presently, Homer.”

  “Homer’s nice. Scenic. Some great halibut fishing to be had.”

  “It’s that all right.” A shadow crossed over his features. He pointed to her hotdog sizzling in the fire. “Might want to pull that back.”

  “I like them blistered.” She rotated her dog and then asked, “Married?”

  “No.” He coughed. “You?”

  “Nope.”

  “Boyfriend?” He nodded his head toward Aidan.

  “No boyfriend. You?”

  “No boyfriend, either.” He smiled and her insides fluttered.

  So much for cooling things down.

  Her hotdog caught fire.

  Dinner with the Savonskis was proving to be a welcome amusement. Garrett had been all work and definitely no play for far too long. It had been a long time since he’d felt this quickening of his pulse and heating of his blood. His relationship with Mel had been more friendly than frenzy. They’d used each other to scratch an itch when the need arose. Looking at Sonya, he felt more than an itch rising.

  The fire had died down to a comfortable level. It was doing a good job of keeping the bugs at bay since the breeze had lulled. The sun hung steady on the horizon despite the late hour.

  The sea hugged the shore as though content, but Garrett knew the calm surface belied the activity going on beneath as millions of salmon made the run up the rivers for spawning. The fishermen would be churning up the waters trying to catch them come tomorrow morning’s high tide.

  “Sonya,” Nikolai said. “Maggie May wants to hear you play something.”

  “Gramps, I don’t have my—”

  Nikolai waved his hand. “Not to worry. I had Peter run and get it.”

  Peter smiled as he handed her an instrument case he’d stashed behind the log he’d been sitting on. “Here you go, Ducky.”

  Sonya narrowed her eyes, which seemed to promise retribution, and she took the case. Garrett wondered briefly over the nickname.

  “If I have to play, so do you,” Sonya said.

  Peter shrugged. “I don’t have my drums.”

  “I’m sure you can find something to beat on.”

  “The cooler’s empty,” Nikolai said. “It’ll make a good sound.” He thumped it for emphasis.

  “Yes, Peter. Please, I’ve never heard you play,” Lana said, her voice sweet and bright much like her blond cheerleader good looks.

  Peter’s cheeks pinked and he picked up the cooler, trying his hand at it. He sat, positioning the cooler between his legs. “Ready, whenever you are.”

  Sonya stood, opened the case, and picked up a violin, checking it for tune. She looked at Garrett. “Sorry about this. Gramps likes to show us off.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m enjoying myself.”

  Sonya nodded at Peter and positioned the violin under her chin. “Try and keep up.” She strung the bow across the strings. It vibrated and sang with a voice of its own. The music she chose to play was a lively Celtic tune, and when Peter joined in with the beat of the cooler-drum, Garrett swore the flames of the fire flickered in time to the tune.

  Here he was at a fish camp roast on the South Naknek side of Bristol Bay, much closer to Russia than the continental United States, with sand all around, gray cliffs towering over them, and the world’s deadliest ocean at their backs. Not a theatre or opera house for three hundred miles, and he was being treated to a first class violin performance. He was captivated by Sonya’s fingers as they danced over the chords, her hand commanding the bow as it stroked sound from the strings. Her hands would be picking fish out of a net come morning, yet tonight they brought forth music.

  The woman had facets.

  She finished with a flourish, her hair having come loose as she’d lost her ball cap with the fiery way she’d played. Her hair was dark and thick, longer than he’d first expected.

  “Another,” Nikolai requested. “Something sweet for my Maggie May.”

  Sonya gave the violin a slow caress of the bow, and Garrett felt the notes loosen something inside him. Nikolai rose and reached out
a hand for Margaret, and she gracefully stepped into his arms. They swayed over the sand to the haunting music Sonya aroused from the strings. Peter sat this one out and let Sonya entrance the group. The music was potent, passionate, hypnotic.

  And Garrett was snared.

  Sonya laid the violin lovingly back in its case. Her emotions were heightened whenever she played. The treasured violin had been her mother’s. She always felt connected to her on a spiritual plane whenever she coaxed a tune from the instrument. It didn’t matter if she played for a group, like tonight, or alone. Something about the music beckoned and bewitched.

  “That was amazing,” Garrett said. “Can you play another?”

  “Better not,” she replied, her voice too breathless for her liking. She cleared her throat. “Fishing tomorrow.” They should be calling a halt to this evening anyway. They all needed their rest for their first day of drifting.

  “Hey, Sonya. We forgot the makings for s’mores. Run up to the cabin and get them, will you?” Gramps asked, followed by, “Garrett, why don’t you give her a hand?”

  Sonya closed her eyes. What was Gramps trying to do?

  “I’d be happy to.” Garrett rose to his feet.

  Sonya took the violin with her, and Garrett followed. They didn’t talk on the climb to the cabin.

  The cabin was shadowed when they entered. Sonya laid her violin on the table, and lit a candle to find the smore ingredients. The strong smell of sulfur dioxide from the match tainted the air and seemed to enclose the space, making it a touch too romantic with the burning candle.

  “Nice place,” Garrett commented, looking around. “You’re pretty set up considering you’re only here a couple of months every summer.”

  “Gramps likes to do for Grams.” She opened the cupboard and took down the graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.

  “It’s nice that he’s still courting her after all the years they’ve been together.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I’ve never thought of it that way, but you’re right. He does court her.” The man was perceptive to pick up on that. She wondered what else he was good at. Sonya started to bundle the ingredients into her arms.