Catch and Release

by Laura Drewry

  Ro chewed his bottom lip for a second. “What kinds of questions?”

  “All sorts. But how about this—for every question I ask you, you get to ask me the same one back, kind of a quid-pro-quo thing. That way I’m not going to ask you anything I wouldn’t want to answer myself. What do you say?”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say no, because no matter what he asked her, her answers would stay between them, but anything he said could end up televised, and he’d already proven beyond a doubt that he wasn’t exactly the most articulate guy in the world when he was rattled.

  He started to say that, but he made the mistake of turning his gaze her way just as she smiled.

  “Yeah, okay.” Wait, what? That’s not what he meant to say, but he didn’t have a chance to take it back, because her smile had already doubled in size and in that moment he didn’t give a shit about anything else. That smile…those lips…whew.

  It was taking all of his focus to keep from leaning closer and kissing her, to taste the blueberry pomegranate on her bottom lip, and to—whoa!

  “Excellent,” she breathed. “But I should warn you right up front that aside from the failed engagement, I’m pretty boring, so…yeah.”

  As she spoke, she set her mug down on the step next to her and began rooting around in her bag. It took a while, which wasn’t surprising given how much crap she packed in there, but eventually she pulled out a small coil-bound notebook. She waved it victoriously before she flipped to a dog-eared page near the front and held it out to him.

  “I don’t know if this makes a difference to you or not, but just so you know…”

  Ro had to read it twice before his brain accepted it, but there it was in neat blue cursive:

  Guest rooms—Irish Counties—Clare—Jimmy learned to fish w/g’pa; Cork—Maggie born; Meath—Jimmy born; Down—North.Ire.—J’s way to unite his country

  Green cab—Wicklow pics—??check map—southeast-ish; J worked; traveled thru county

  Orange cab—wildlife pics—photog?

  White cab—fam pics. Maggie O’D

  Fish shack—rebuilt last yr/personal

  “Jessie was very helpful while she walked me around earlier,” she said, taking the notebook back. “And I think it’s details like these that will engage the viewers and make them see you as the O’Donnell family, not just a group of random people who run the Buoys.”

  Ro wanted to argue, for no other reason than he still wasn’t ready to accept the changes Hooked was going to bring with it. But that was stupid, and he knew it, so instead of arguing, he nodded stiffly and pointed at the notebook.

  “It was Finn.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Finn took the pictures in the orange cabin and most of the ones in the lodge, too.” The worry knot in the back of Ro’s head loosened just enough that he was almost able to smile. “He wants Jessie to see what he sees when he goes out on the boats.”

  Every ounce of concern melted from Hope’s expression when she smiled like that, all gooey and girly.

  “That’s adorable,” she said. “Seriously adorable.”

  Ro could only shrug. It had never occurred to him or to Liam that Finn had been doing it all these years because he had a thing for Jessie. They just always assumed the two of them were close because they were the same age and they’d spent the most time together at the Buoys.

  Duh!

  “Anyway,” Hope said, her light laugh wavering a bit as she pushed to her feet. “I better get down to the card game before Kevin peeks at my cards.”

  It was an automatic reaction—force of habit, whatever you wanted to call it—but as soon as she stood, Ronan stood, and in that instant, the limited space on the stairs shrunk, tightened, and though it might have been his imagination, it sure as hell felt as though the air crackled between them.

  Did Hope feel it, too? Is that why her eyes widened like that? Is that why it took her so long to drag her gaze away from his throat, over his chin, and—oh boy—up to his mouth? Or was it just because standing the way they were, his mouth was in her direct line of sight? Whatever it was, Ro needed to put some distance between them before he did something stupid.

  Crap-a-zoid, he’d only met her that afternoon, so why the hell was he getting all horned up already? She wasn’t the first beautiful woman he’d ever met, she wasn’t even the first beautiful woman he’d ever wanted to kiss, but she was the first beautiful woman he’d ever wanted to kiss so soon after meeting her.

  And that wasn’t good.

  Ro grabbed the railing for balance and moved down a step, but all that did was bring them almost eye level, and once again he was left stupid. The only thing that saved him this time was that as soon as their eyes met, she immediately looked down.

  Swallowing back a curse, he took another step down and started to turn, but her voice stopped him.

  “Did you know a canary’s heart beats seventeen times a second? That’s over a thousand times a minute.” Her eyes widened as she nodded, as though she could hardly believe it, even though she was the one saying it. “A healthy human heart only beats between sixty and a hundred times a minute, so…yeah…that’s…well, it’s a lot.”

  “Uh…” Ro found himself starting to smile. Where the hell did she get these things from? And why did she pick the most awkward moments to throw them out there like that? “You’re right, that’s a lot.”

  In the few seconds it took him to say that, her expression went from wonder to what seemed like mortification as she pursed her lips, inhaled a long deep breath, and blinked slowly.

  He couldn’t be sure what she said, because it was a barely a mutter, but it sounded a little bit like “shut up” and “idiot.” Then, with a sigh and a sharp head shake, she stepped up onto the porch. Her gaze flashed over his but that was all it was—a flash.

  “You…uh…you sure you don’t want to join us?”

  “Yeah.” He waited a second, then chuckled. “But take my advice and open the window as soon as you get down there.”

  She looked as if she was going to say something else, but then she sucked her lips in behind her teeth and nodded. And a second later the door closed behind her, leaving Ro by himself again.

  Weird how being by himself felt different this time. A little bit empty.

  Chapter 5

  “My crew is my family, Kirk. Is there anything you would not do for your family?”

  Khan, Star Trek Into Darkness

  Hope only lasted a couple of hands before escaping the god-awful fog that filled Kevin and Chuck’s room. She’d done what Ronan told her and opened the window, but if she’d known what kinds of smells she was going to be subjected to, she never would have gone down there in the first place.

  In an attempt to get as far away from the smell as possible, she headed back outside, where her lungs heaved in gulps of the freshest air they’d ever breathed. It wasn’t that she was hoping to find Ronan still out on the porch, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little disappointed to find nothing but his empty mug.

  She wasn’t sure what to expect from him when she’d come out earlier, because up to that point the day had been a bit of a roller coaster, but just when she’d started to think he was going to be gruff and brusque, he surprised her by opening up a little.

  He’d actually been friendly, and when he laughed…yeah, that threw her for a bit of a loop. Partly because of the way it came out of him so easily, but mostly because of the way it rumbled through her and cranked her pulse up a few notches.

  And when they’d both stood up—well, she didn’t know what the hell happened there. She’d be the first to admit that she hadn’t exactly looked him in the eye a lot since stepping off the plane earlier, but that was because every time their eyes did meet, something happened to her.

  No, not just something; it wasn’t as if she’d never been attracted to a guy before. It was no surprise to her that Ronan was so good-looking; she’d known it from the first time she’d seen tho
se pictures in the file. But his attractiveness multiplied tenfold when his eyes softened, which was why she made a point of avoiding direct eye contact with him whenever possible.

  The last thing she needed was to let any of them know that every time those green eyes locked on hers, she had to fight back a nervous giggle, as if she were sixteen again.

  You’re a professional, for the love of God. Get a grip.

  Right. In this business, good-looking actors were a dime a dozen, and she’d never had trouble with any of them, had never wondered what it would feel like to have any of them kiss her, and had never come so close to reaching her hand out and smoothing her fingers over any of their frowns.

  And she sure as hell hadn’t spouted so many stupid things at any of them.

  Sighing, Hope leaned her hip against the railing. She didn’t mean to keep spewing stupid facts at Ronan and had in fact managed to keep most of them at bay the whole time she’d been out there on the step with him, but when he’d turned to leave, the whole canary thing erupted out of her.

  And given the way her own canary-like pulse had been pounding then, she couldn’t have possibly picked anything worse to say at that moment. Thankfully, all evidence of her own condition stayed hidden behind her scarf.

  Yeah, real smooth, Hope.

  It was a good thing he wasn’t out on the porch now, because God only knew what else she’d say. That didn’t stop her from peering through the darkness, though, just in case he was out there somewhere, because if he was, she wanted to be ready; she wanted to have at least a couple of normal things to say to him. Things like how the rain was supposed to pick up again during the night or how beautiful the flowers in the porch baskets were. Or, instead of forcing them through painful small talk like that, maybe she could strike up a conversation about the state of the economy or how, even after reading it three times, she still couldn’t figure out why so many people loved The Catcher in the Rye.

  Yeah, she mused. Pick one of the most beloved novels of all time and expound on how much you hate it. Great idea.

  A better idea was to take herself back inside before Ronan showed up at all. After a couple of more lung-cleansing breaths, she picked up his mug and took it through to the kitchen, but as she set it in the sink, an odd thought hit her.

  Besides the glass of water he had with dinner, the only thing he’d drunk all day was coffee. When Hope and the crew first arrived, Jessie welcomed them with tall glasses of Guinness, which they’d used to toast with, but Ronan headed straight to the coffeepot instead.

  Even during dessert, after all the work he must have put into the crêpes Suzette, lighting it up and then extinguishing it, he didn’t take so much as nibble, and that was just crazy because, without question, that dish was the best damn thing Hope had ever tasted.

  So, unlike his brothers, Ronan O’Donnell didn’t drink. That was interesting. And curious, only because there hadn’t been any mention of it in the notes Luka had given Hope. Granted, when Hooked filmed here last fall, the entire focus of the show had been out on the boats with Finn and Liam, so it was entirely possible the crew hadn’t noticed. But Hope did, and as much as she wanted to simply dismiss it, she couldn’t, because when she’d sat down next to Ronan on the stairs, he’d tucked something into his pocket—something that looked like a bronze-colored coin.

  She hadn’t given it a second thought at the time, but now…

  Now she couldn’t help but think it looked an awful lot like the one Luka carried, the one she’d received a couple of months back to mark her tenth year of sobriety. Hope didn’t get a good look at the one Ronan was holding, so maybe it was nothing, but if he was in recovery, that would explain why he wasn’t drinking and it would also explain why he had the coin.

  But if that’s what it was, he should have noted it on the medical papers they all filled out. As general and nonspecific as those forms were, for insurance purposes they did require people to list all medical conditions, and Ronan hadn’t written a single thing.

  Did that mean he didn’t actually have any health issues, or did it mean he just didn’t want anyone to know?

  Shit.

  If she didn’t ask him about it and something happened, she’d be in crap up to her eyeballs with Luka, but if she did ask, she risked damaging the fragile peace she’d only begun to build with Ronan—and if she did that, there’d be no way in hell he’d agree to sign on for the second half of the season. Wouldn’t that be a dandy thing to have stamped on her résumé?

  Hooked Accomplishments: Pissed off the entire cast in the first twenty-four hours, ensuring unemployment for all. Score!

  Blinking her mind clear (sort of), she left the mug and headed straight down to her room, where she flopped on the bed and stared up at the ceiling until, just before drifting off, she made her decision.

  She’d keep an eye on things and reassess in a week or so.

  In the meantime, she needed to focus on the job at hand, and over the next few days, that’s what she did. There were always technical glitches that needed to be figured out, like faulty connections that refused to be fixed and memory cards that were full of formatting problems, but she’d allotted plenty of time for those issues and made sure she’d come prepared. Everything from zap straps to Krazy Glue and more—whatever her crew needed, she had, and it didn’t take long for Kevin and Chuck to come to appreciate her handy bag of tricks.

  And one of the perks of being über-prepared was that it freed up her evenings to enjoy the quiet out on the front porch. She was used to quiet nights in her apartment, but this kind of quiet was a whole different thing because…well, it wasn’t actually quiet.

  Soft swells rocked the boats gently against their moorings before lapping the shore, and from somewhere near the north trail, an owl hooted, short and quiet, barely noticeable over the steady low-pitched drones of what had to be four or five different frogs croaking through the darkness.

  And all around the Buoys, a light evening breeze turned every tree, every bush, into nature’s wind chimes. So, no, it wasn’t exactly quiet. But it was unbelievably peaceful, and that was so much better.

  It was the perfect way to spend her Friday night.

  The door whooshed open behind her a second before Jessie’s voice sounded.

  “I think I saw—found her!”

  “Hey.” Hope twisted around and smiled as Kate followed Jessie outside. “Did you need me for something?”

  They both joined her on the steps, moving to the lower ones so Hope didn’t have to crane her neck.

  “No—” Kate stopped, laughed quietly. “Well, yeah, I guess so, since this is going to affect you.”

  “Affect me how?” There wasn’t even a fraction of a hint on either of their faces, so why did Hope’s nerves start twitching?

  “Olivia’s accident sort of threw us all into a bit of a tizzy,” Jessie said, “so we haven’t exactly made ourselves available to do any one-on-one time with you, like we were supposed to.”

  “It’s okay, I’ll figure it out.” Hope had originally planned on spending a couple of hours with each of them, learning more about their histories, what made them tick, that kind of thing. But when things went sideways, she’d resigned herself to the fact that she was just going to have to get her interview time with them whenever she could, even if that meant following them around for the next two days or doing it discreetly while guests were milling around the lodge.

  “We already did,” Kate said. “Figure it out, I mean. Well, sort of anyway.”

  “How’s that?”

  “We’re going to give you uninterrupted access to Liam, Finn, and Ro all day tomorrow.”

  “All day?” Hope didn’t mean to sound so doubtful, but who were they kidding? It was hard enough getting five minutes with one of them over a meal; the idea that all three of them would sit still for a whole day at the same time—yeah, Kate was dreaming in color.

  “All day.” Jessie nodded. “They’re going out fishing together, and you’re g
oing to go with them.”

  “What?” Surely to God they had to be kidding. Hope might be in charge of the show, but the only fishing she’d ever done was at the carnival, where the hooks were all magnets and everyone “caught” something.

  “It’ll be perfect,” Jessie said. “I mean, it’s not one-on-one, but it’s the best we’re going to be able to offer you at this point.”

  “Exactly.” Shivering, Kate tugged the collar of her sweater a little tighter around her neck. “You’ll have the three of them together all day, so you’ll not only be able to ask them all sorts of questions, but you’ll get to see them in their natural habitat.”

  That made Jessie laugh. “Like monkeys in the rain forest.”

  It was great they could laugh about it, but this was not what Hope had banked on.

  “What about you two? Will you be coming with us?”

  “No.” Jessie started shaking her head before Hope even finished her question. “We can’t afford to be away from the phone that long; you know how it is. If someone leaves a message and we don’t get back to them right away, we risk losing their business to one of the other lodges that did answer the phone. And Kate has to run over to Port Hardy to pick up supplies.”

  “What about Chuck and Kevin?”

  “They can go if they want to, sure, but the guys won’t want them filming anything.”

  For a fraction of a second Hope wanted to say no, that she’d need at least one camera rolling, but clearly that was just her nerves talking, so she shoved that sliver of jittery panic back down where it belonged and nodded, but not before she confessed.

  “I don’t know how to fish.”

  Of all the reactions she expected, laughing snorting groans wasn’t one of them.

  “God help us,” Jessie chuckled. “A fishing virgin—the three of them’ll think they died and went to heaven.”

  “Excuse me?”