“Here, let me help with that. After all—” he smiled and it reached all the way to his eyes “—wasn’t that why Nikolai asked me to come along?”
Her matchmaking grandpa hoped something else would happen between them. Sonya handed the goods to Garrett and then thought, what the hell. “Why don’t we get this out of the way?” With his hands occupied, she captured his face between hers, and kissed him.
Damn, his lips were as soft as they looked. It was the last coherent thought she had.
Garrett growled and yanked her flush against his chest. She heard the crunch of graham crackers beneath their feet and didn’t care. All she cared about was getting closer to him, which was probably physically impossible unless they lost some clothes. But she was willing to give it a go.
They broke apart as suddenly as they’d come together as though simultaneously realizing where the kiss was headed. It wasn’t the right time. Definitely not the right place.
“That was better than I thought it would be,” she said, her voice huskier than she’d like, and for a moment she didn’t recognize it as her own.
“That’s an understatement.” He leaned back against the counter, breathing deep. “Maybe it was a fluke.” He seemed to be talking to himself more than to her, as if trying to convince himself that what had just happened hadn’t really meant anything. She was all for agreeing with his argument. She didn’t want that kiss to mean anything either.
“Want to try it again?” she found herself asking. “You know—” she shrugged “—rule out the fluke factor?”
His eyes burned into hers, and he pushed himself away from the counter. She swallowed. He was big and imposing as he stepped toward her. Their bodies came into contact as his hands framed her face, diving deep into her hair and forcing her head back. He lowered his mouth until their breaths mixed, mated.
He paused, just before taking her mouth. “If I kiss you again, we won’t be leaving this cabin until after I get you naked.”
Damn, her toes were curling. She wished she could deny it. Just having him this close, she was ready and willing to forget the people down on the beach and strip. The problem with acting on impulse was that when she returned to sanity, she always regretted her actions. She didn’t know this man well enough to share herself with him. He didn’t know her either, and once men really got to know her, they usually begged off.
She tended to intimidate.
“Well—” she swallowed “—best not, then.” Her voice was breathless.
“It would be best,” he said, his voice just as breathless. He still hadn’t moved. Still held her as though he couldn’t break away. She hoped he wasn’t counting on her being the sensible one. She’d started this.
Slowly he let go of her and moved back. His step crunched, and he glanced down. “We might have a problem.”
A bigger problem than their raging hormones? She glanced down at the floor and couldn’t help but laugh. “This will be the last time Gramps sends me for dessert.”
“If he does send you again, I hope I’ll be along to help.” He looked at her with enough yearning to cause her to envision pushing him down on the table hand-made from driftwood planks. It seemed sturdy enough to hold their weight.
She took a deep breath. “We’d better get out of here.”
“Yep.” He glanced at the table as though knowing what she’d been contemplating.
They made their way back to the beach, after salvaging the best of the broken graham crackers and chocolate bars—the marshmallows showed no signs of damage—and sweeping up the rest of the mess. Too bad she couldn’t have swept Garrett’s kiss from her lips as easily. The crowd was still going strong when they reached the sand. Peter was doing a cooler-drum solo while the rest be-bopped along.
That was, all but Aidan.
“All right, finally, here are the goodies,” Wes announced. He had a wicked sweet tooth and was first to reach for the s’mores, opening the bag they’d stuffed everything into. He frowned. “What happened to the graham crackers?”
“Clumsy fingers,” Sonya mumbled while trying not to look at Garrett, though she felt the heat of his stare.
“Hope you get them working for picking fish tomorrow,” Wes said.
“By the way, Garrett,” Aidan asked, “You working for the cannery or as crewman for someone?”
“Neither.” Garrett paused. “I work for the State.”
“State?” Sonya turned from unwrapping a chocolate bar. “Biologist? Fish and Game?”
He slowly shook his head, his eyes holding hers. “AWT.”
“You’re a fish cop?” She’d kissed a freaking fish cop?
He hardened his jaw. A jaw she’d wanted to nibble on a few minutes ago. “We prefer trooper.”
“Trooper?” Gramps swiveled around, as though looking for the law, having just caught the tail end of the conversation. “Where?”
“Right in front of you, Gramps. Turns out Garrett’s a trooper.” She really needed to have that talk with him over screening his “potentials.” Look at the position he’d put her in. Put them in.
“Well, who in the dang blazes invited the enemy?” Gramps grabbed an marshmallow and stuffed it in his mouth.
Who indeed. Sonya stared until Gramps pulled at his collar as though it was strangling him.
She caught Aidan’s satisfied smile as he sat back, crossed his ankles, and watched.
Sonya faced Garrett, her hands anchored to her hips, when they wanted to be grabbing him by his shirt and giving him a good shaking. “Were you planning on telling us who you were?”
His brow furrowed. “Didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”
“Liar,” she said. “Why’d you really come to dinner?”
Peter pointed an accusing finger. “It’s the fox in the hen house thing. He’s sizing us up.”
“Is this part of a new trooper undercover program?” Wes asked, his normally steady demeanor looking a bit ruffled.
“Find out anything useful?” Peter followed up with, not bothering to skewer a marshmallow on the end of his whittled willow branch. He held the stick like a rapier.
“Nothing criminal if that’s what you mean.” Garrett ran a hand through his short hair and Sonya could feel his frustration. Good. “Listen,” he said, “your name came up on a list of potential problems. I thought it would be a good idea to see how much of a problem.”
“Reeeally?” She dragged out the word until it sounded more like a challenge than a question. “You have no idea how much of a problem I can be.”
“Now, Sonya.” Gramps moved in between them. “The man’s explained himself. He’s just doing his job.”
Was he doing his job when he’d returned her kiss and about burned her up from the inside?
“Cut the man some slack,” Gramps added, trying to be the voice of reason. Someone needed to be. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be her.
“But, Gramps,” Peter said. “He came here and ate our food, schmoozed us into compliance, and watch, tomorrow he’ll be fast to write us up for some stupid infraction.”
“Am I going to need to?” Garrett asked, his voice having gone all trooperish.
Ooh, that shouldn’t excite her. She was getting confused. That kiss had shifted something inside her. Time to get some distance and sort it all out.
“All right, that’s enough. Garrett, it’s time to say your goodbyes.” Sonya pushed him back, trying not to let her hand linger on his brick house of a chest. “Peter, Wes, we’ll be having an early start in the morning. Best clean up dinner and find your bunks.”
“You’re not my mother, Sonya. I don’t need to be told when to go to bed,” Peter was quick to point out. For the last year, he’d been bucking anything she’d asked of him that resembled parenting. It was past annoying.
“Right now, I’m your boss.”
“Come on, let’s listen to the Captain.” Wes moved in front of Peter. “Garrett, it was nice meeting you…that was, before we knew you were a fis
h cop.”
“Trooper,” Garrett corrected with a clenched jaw.
Ah, sore spot, Sonya realized, filing the information away. She grabbed Garrett’s arm and he willingly went with her. Good thing, because if it came to manhandling someone, Sonya knew without a doubt that Garrett would be better at it than her.
Manhandle. Dang. She shook her head to get the image that one word brought into her mind. Yep, needed some space and fast.
Garrett mounted the 4-wheeler. He took the key out of his pocket and put it in the ignition, but didn’t bother to start the engine. He captured her hand instead. “Sonya. About that kiss—”
“It’s a conflict of interest for us to see each other.” Damn, why did he have to be a fish cop? She pulled her hand out of his and backed up a step. “I don’t play games.”
“Neither do I…usually. But, when I do, I play for keeps.” He started the ATV and engaged the gears. “I’ll be seeing you, Sonya.”
Not if she could help it.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sonya studied the skies from the pilot house of the Double Dippin’. An uneasy foreboding sank into her bones.
A red morning for the first day of drifting. The maritime warning echoed through Sonya’s head. Red morning, sailors take warning.
Weather was predicted to blow in that afternoon. When didn’t they get weather in Bristol Bay? She’d even seen it when the wind blew both directions just for the fun of it.
Right now the sea was gray, choppy, and dressed in whitecaps. The wind blew steady from the east at twenty knots. That would change. She stretched, trying to get the kinks out of her back. The bunk on the boat wasn’t the most comfortable. Not to mention she was edgy over what today would bring. She had a lot to live up to. Her big mouth for one. She’d talked everyone into drifting. Her family had been happy set netting for over fifty years, and here she’d pushed for them to drift.
“Yo, Captain,” Wes hollered from the starboard side. “Permission to come aboard.”
Sonya opened the window and leaned out of the pilot house to see Wes bouncing like a rubber ball in the skiff. “Permission granted, matey.” She rubbed her hands together as she noticed the individual cooler he had with him. Looked like she wouldn’t have to settle for a protein bar for breakfast, after all. When he was safely aboard, and in the warm pilot house, she took the cooler from him. Her mouth salivated at the thought of what her grandmother had cooked for breakfast. Cinnamon rolls, blueberry muffins. “What did you bring?”
“Don’t get too excited.” Wes grimaced, unsnapping his rain jacket. “Margaret made salmon omelets. In my opinion, fish is never a good breakfast food.”
They supplemented their food stores with salmon, living off the ocean as much as they could. Food was expensive to ship in and even more expensive to buy at the cannery. Then there was the problem of refrigeration. Salmon was caught fresh every day, healthy, and a great source of protein. Unfortunately, Sonya had to agree with Wes. It wasn’t the most ideal breakfast food. Maybe she’d have her protein bar after all.
“I did grab you some nuts and the last of the apples, in case the omelet wasn’t to your liking.”
She grabbed the apple and took a bite. It was a bit mealy, but it was fruit. Probably the last she’d see until the season was over and she headed home. So she savored it. “Thanks, Wes. I appreciate it.”
Wes settled himself on the small bunk while Sonya took the captain’s chair and the bag of nuts Wes had stuffed into the cooler. She’d toss the omelet overboard later and let the seagulls fight over it.
“How are you doing today?” Wes asked.
She’d known Wes would show up before the rest of the crew this morning. He had a way of seeing things that no one else did. The talent would serve him well in his chosen career.
“Nervous. Excited.” Sonya bit her lip and decided to speak her doubts and fears, knowing Wes would see them even if she didn’t share. “Worried. Scared.” Sharing with Wes had always served to calm and center her thoughts. “What if I’ve taken on more than I can handle?” What if she piloted her boat into the foray of the seasoned drifters and made a fool of herself? “What if this gamble doesn’t pay off?” She’d literally laid everything she had on the line. “What if someone gets hurt?” There. Her biggest fear.
She couldn’t lose another member of her family.
“Those are a lot of what ifs.” Wes leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Let’s start with the first one. Do you really believe you’ve taken on more than you can handle? Is that your thought or someone else’s?”
“Oh, you’re good.” She hadn’t realized she’d let Aidan get to her. How had she let herself doubt? She’d fished out here all her life. She knew fishing. It had driven her crazy when the Fish and Game opened the area for drifters and closed the set netters. The drifters cleaned up. They could go where the fish were, while the set netters were stuck fishing in the same place. She was in the commercial fishing business to make money, and there was a lot of money out there to be made. She just needed to maximize her take of the catch.
Drifting and set netting was good business.
“You’re right, I can handle this,” she said. “I’ve had to deal with tougher stuff.” She discarded the apple, throwing it out the window into the sea, and then mimicked his elbows on knees posture. “Okay, on to the next what if.”
Wes smiled. “That’s the spirit. Gambling. You gamble every year out here. Other than the bigger stake, what’s different?”
She thought about it. The game was still the same. The goal: to catch as much fish as she could. “I have better equipment to maximize my return.” She tapped her lips with her fingertip. “I’ve spent all winter planning. I know what I’m doing, and I do have the best crew.”
Wes smiled again and nodded. “Good. Now, onto the big one. What if someone gets hurt?”
Sweat broke out all over her body in a cold chill. She swallowed passed the lump in her throat. “I can’t work through this one, Wes.”
“Yes, you can. There are no guarantees, Sonya. Fishing is risky business. You know that more than most. You can’t let the past paralyze your future choices.”
He was right, but knowing that didn’t silence the screams from the past that still haunted her. She was the captain. Captains were responsible for their crews. It was up to them to make sure everything was safe. She’d taken precautions. The Double Dippin’ was hands down the safest boat in Bristol Bay. She’d seen to it. She’d put her crew through safety drills yesterday until they’d begged to stop, and then she’d put them through more.
She’d done everything physically possible to ensure the safety of her crew.
The only thing left to do was pray.
Garrett couldn’t keep his head on the job. He was dressed in uniform. There was no doubt of who he was today. Regardless of the regulations to uphold, laws to enforce, safety to insure, he couldn’t stop thinking of Sonya Savonski. The feel of her under his hands and the burn she’d started in his gut.
They’d just left a trooper meeting where it was apparent, as always, that the law was at a disadvantage. There were roughly four hundred drift boats to police out there, and not enough troopers.
“Hunt,” Judd hollered. “You with me or not?”
“Yeah.” He and Judd were doing a food run at the Cannery’s General Store before heading out. Who knew when they’d have a chance at a warm meal? For now, quick and easy food for the man-on-the-go was the order of the day.
And it promised to be one hell of a day.
“Plain or peanut? Make a decision, would ya?” Judd elbowed him into the present, and he was struck by the colorful, amused woman waiting behind the counter for his decision.
“Peanut.” The nuts in the M&M’s would at least provide some protein.
“Why the hell was that so hard?” Judd tossed a dozen packages of peanut M&M’s on the counter already littered with string cheese, pop, chips, beer nuts, and peperoni sticks.
&nbs
p; “Lot on my mind.” Not a thing on his mind but a woman. When was the last time that had happened? He’d always been able to compartmentalize. One of the talents that’d made him a good Navy SEAL.
Focus. He needed to focus.
Then he heard Sonya’s name drift through the open window. He shook his head, figuring it had manifested itself because she was all he seemed to think about. When the voices lowered, and his second sense kicked in.
“I’ll be right back,” he told Judd, who could have cared less as he flirted with the clerk. Garrett doubled back around the building in the direction of the voices he’d heard. He smelled the bitter stench of cigarettes. By the shuffling of feet and flickering of a lighter, he estimated that there were two of them. He flattened himself against the wall, and waited. Sure enough, they started gabbing like a ladies Thursday night quilt circle.
“Seriously, the bitch never knew I was there. Sliced her hydraulic line while she slept. Easy as pie.”
“You sure she’s not going to notice?”
“Naw. Not until she tries to pull in her nets.”
“Bitch thinks she can throw in with the big boys. It’s bad luck, I tell ya. A woman drifting.” The man gave a snort. “We need to get her off the water and back on the shore where she belongs.” The voices started to waft on the wind, and he knew they were on the move.
Garrett peeked around the corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of the vandals. They’d meshed into another, louder group of fishermen dressed in hooded orange and green slickers. There was no way to tell who the perpetrators were.
He hustled back to Judd. “We need to get a move on.”
Judd tore his love-puppy eyes away from the clerk. “Why?” He glanced at his watch. “There’s time.”
“Overheard a possible 10-59.”
Judd turned back to the lady behind the counter. “Guess our fun’s over, Davida.”
“Only if you want it to be,” Davida purred. “If you’re free later, come by, and we’ll see what kind of fun we can find.” Her smile didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) Page 4
