Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel)

by Tiffinie Helmer

  In the toilet.

  He was right. The situation with Kendrick could have gotten out of control. If Judd hadn’t been there to pull him back, Garrett didn’t know what he would have done.

  He needed to do something about Sonya.

  Once the fishing period had closed for the day, Garrett located the Double Dippin’, boarded, and found her captain in a mood that matched the foul weather that had returned. He was dressed in raingear as rain slashed him. Sheets of water fell so hard that it splashed the ocean with enough force to send water raining upward. His gear wasn’t doing much to keep him dry. The evening had darkened with the storm-filled clouds showing themselves. Any leftover light from the sun was buried deep under bruised and boiling thunderheads.

  “I’m not up for company, Garrett,” Sonya said, standing in the open doorway of the pilot house. She’d tied up to the cannery’s dock for the night, which made it easy to locate her. He knew if he’d tried to contact her via the radio, he’d be facing more than her cranky attitude.

  “This isn’t a social call.” Garrett planted a foot on the step to the pilot house. “I’d thought you’d like to know what happened with Kendrick.”

  She seemed to struggle for a moment, but when she glanced around to see if anyone was watching he knew he had permission to come aboard. The weather was angry enough to keep everyone inside somewhere warm and dry. Where he wanted to be.

  “Get in here,” she muttered.

  As invitations went, he’d had better, but the wind and wet were getting the best of him and he hurried up the stairs. She’d pulled homemade curtains—printed with puffins—over the windows, making the area seem smaller, cozier. He could see where she’d patched the broken glass with a sheet of plastic and duct tape. He pushed back his hood, pulled open the snaps to his rain jacket, and soaked in the sight of her. “How are you feeling?”

  She tightened her lips before answering. “Fine.”

  She wasn’t fine. The circles under her eyes were more pronounced, though the fire in her gaze was hot enough to warm him. She was dressed in gray sweats, wool socks, and a hoodie with a picture of a large Alaskan mosquito with the words, “Bite Me,” written across the front.

  He didn’t need anymore ideas where she was concerned and wondered for a moment if she chose clothes to dress her body or her mood. Her silky dark hair lay loose around her face and shoulders. She’d combed a section to fall over the bandage on her forehead. The length of hair failed to hide the butterfly stitches marring her cheek. Her long day of fishing had obviously been too long.

  “You staying on the boat tonight?” he asked, knowing the answer. She looked dressed for bed. Besides, he doubted she’d planned on heading to camp with the rain pelting outside.

  “Yes.”

  “Alone?” He hoped to God she wasn’t going to be alone tonight. Not only for her safety, in case Kendrick decided to cause more trouble.

  “No, Peter went for ice cream and pizza. He’ll be back soon.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Comfort food?”

  She cracked a smile. “Yeah. I’d really like a serving of KFC’s mash potatoes and gravy. My mom used to get me that when I didn’t feel well.”

  He shared her smile. “It’s homemade mac’n’cheese for me. No one makes it like my mom does.”

  They stared at each other until the silence dragged and sexual tension pressed. The pilot house was too inviting, too intimate, and they were too alone.

  Where the hell was Peter?

  This was not going the way he’d wanted this visit to go. A few moments in her company, and all he could think about was how did he get her into bed? This was definitely going against the plan.

  She nervously licked her lips and then blurted out, “Kendrick? You came to tell me what happened.”

  The name snapped him back from images of her naked in his arms. He’d come here to put a stop to thoughts like that. She was interfering with his job, his sleep, his life. Right now he was supposed to be…oh hell, what was he supposed to do? Right, Kendrick. He quickly informed her what had transpired earlier that day, enjoying her smile when he got to the part of the Albatross’s illegal take.

  “Nice.” She grinned, the emotion reaching her eyes, making them glimmer with warmth in the low lighting from the battery operated lantern.

  “It made up for not getting him for hurting you.” Garrett stepped back and came into contact with the counter behind him. Sonya was pressed up against the bunk across from him.

  Only a few feet separated them.

  “You don’t know for sure that Kendrick was responsible.” Sonya brought him back to their discussion.

  “He was smug, all but dying to tell me he’d been the one who’d shot out your window.”

  “I knew he’d get me back for corking him off, but I didn’t think he’d take it that far.” She picked at the cuff of her sleeve. “I should have.”

  He frowned. “Is there more I should know here?”

  She sighed, raised her hand to run it through her hair, and bumped her stitches. She winced. “Damn, I keep forgetting.” She smoothed a length of long bangs over the bandage. “Do you think Kendrick was the one who cut loose and sunk our skiffs? The hydraulic lines?”

  “He wouldn’t cop to it, but it seems like something he’d get off on. He’s been flagged with the illegal fishing. Every trooper in the bay will be keeping an eye on him from now on.”

  “He’s not going to like that.”

  “No, he isn’t. So, continue to be on guard.” He angled toward the door, ready to say his goodbyes, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked up from her fingers wrapped around his forearm to her dark slumberous eyes.

  “Garrett. Thanks. I know I haven’t been very…uhm…appreciative of your position, but thanks for what you’ve done for me and my family.”

  “Sonya.” Her name came out as a growl, and he couldn’t stop himself from cradling the back of her neck and taking her mouth, being careful of her stitches. She moaned, opening her lips for him, and he sank into her.

  He inhaled sharply and instead of releasing her like he knew he should, he dropped his hands from her neck to her breasts, and roughly slanted his mouth possessively over hers.

  She arched into him, her own hands cupping his butt and pulling him to her as she met his kiss with demands of her own. Fire flamed at the base of his spine and he pressed his throbbing erection against her. She whimpered. The sexy sound had him losing the last bit of control he held onto. He grabbed her by the hips, lifted, and sat her on the edge of the bunk. He spread her legs and settled hard between them, rubbing his shaft against her sex. She tore her mouth from his and let her head fall back on a cry. The motion was seductive as hell. He kissed down the arch of her incredibly enticing neck, nipping at her fluttering pulse.

  His hands slipped under her “Bite Me” sweatshirt to find her breasts bare. He gave a ragged groan. Her nipples were hard and swollen, and his greedy fingers played and plucked them into harder peaks. Her hands went on a trek of their own, snaking under his shirt, knocking off his rain jacket, kneading his muscles until he groaned with pleasure.

  He wanted to drown in her. He could feel her heat through the thin barrier of her sweatpants. It’d take nothing to strip her of them, and then he’d be inside her. The thought was heaven and pure hell. He’d already taken this further than he’d planned.

  Hell, he’d planned on speaking his peace and getting away from her so this wouldn’t happen.

  He took a deep breath, but instead of helping to clear his head, he breathed in more of her seductive scent. “You’re making this really difficult, Sonya.”

  “I’m a difficult woman, Garrett.” He heard the smile in her voice as her fingers glided over his nipples. His knees shook. “Anything worth having is worth working hard to get.”

  Damn, but he was willing to work hard for her. Anything she wanted. Any way she wanted it.

  No, no. Getting way off track, man. Pull yourself
together, and get your ass out of here.

  It took everything he had to step back, his breathing shallow and quick. He had to break away from her, save himself. Or he’d be lost.

  Her hair was tousled like they’d already gone at each other for hours. Her lips were red and swollen, and begged him for another taste. Her eyes were large dark pools of sinful promises he wanted to cash in.

  “You’re messing with my job,” Garrett blurted out.

  “Excuse me?” Those sinful eyes clouded with confusion as she sat up straighter.

  “I can’t sleep. You’re in my head, my blood. I would have taken on Kendrick if Judd hadn’t been there to pull me back. I can’t focus. Making love with you is only going to make that worse.”

  “You don’t think working each other out of our systems would do the trick?” She adjusted the clothing he’d just had his hands under.

  “As much as I like your reasoning, no, I don’t.” When he finally slept with her, he’d be an addict for sure. That thought alone scared the shit out of him and had him stepping farther back in the confined space. Sonya wasn’t the kind of woman he usually hooked up with. There was nothing casual about her. A relationship with her would have expectations. She’d have expectations. She wouldn’t be content to let him come and go. She’d demand a commitment. Maybe even one that required a ring.

  He broke out in a sweat. He was not marriage material. He wouldn’t do that to a woman, especially this one. Not when he already cared about her far too much.

  “Let me get this straight.” She narrowed her eyes and shook her head as though needing to clear her thoughts also. “A no-strings-attached affair is too much for you?”

  “Don’t kid yourself on the no-strings part.” He already felt the pull where she was concerned. The more run-ins like this, the tighter those strings wove together. Her eyes hardened with resolve.

  Was he the only one who felt this way?

  “I think it’s time for you to go.” Her frosty tone spoke volumes.

  “Sonya—”

  “No.” She indicated the door not a few feet away. “I think you can find your way out.”

  Just then footsteps scuffled as someone boarded the boat.

  “That will be Peter.” Sonya folded her arms across her chest. “He sure took long enough.”

  The door flew open. “It’s raining like—Oh…hi, Garrett.” Peter stood in the doorway holding a pizza box from the Pitt, rain splattered on the hood and shoulders of his raingear. “Sorry, Sonya, no ice cream. Davida laughed when I asked if she had any. So I brought you a few candy bars.” He held up a bag full of at least a dozen or more. He glanced at Garrett and then to Sonya, obviously feeling the thick tension in the small room. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Garrett was just leaving.” She turned to Garrett and raised a brow. “Weren’t you?”

  “Yes, I was.” He gazed at Sonya, knowing he should say something to fix the mess he’d made of things, but knew whatever he said would make the situation worse. He reached down, picked up the rain jacket Sonya had stripped him out of, and ignored Peter’s interested gaze. At the door, he turned. “I’d feel better if you were anchored in front of your camp. Tied up here at the docks, it’s like putting a goldfish in a tank of piranhas.”

  “Garrett,” Sonya said, “I’m no goldfish.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Man, she was tired. Sore, cold, bone-dead tired. She and Peter had just finished picking and pulling the nets at the set net sites. If she ever got through this eternally long line of bobbing skiffs, loaded down with fish, waiting to tender, then she could sleep.

  They moved up the line. The Time Bandit sat in the channel of the river, large and towering above them. Floating in her shadow, made Sonya feel small and insignificant. Peter sat quietly in the bow. He was tired too. She saw it in the hunching of his shoulders. Was she asking too much of him, of her crew? They hadn’t complained, and every night Peter was figuring out his percentage of the take. Money had a way of keeping people working past their stopping point. Next year, she’d better hire another crewman to help with the workload.

  Aidan did have a point, she had to concede. He’d told her she didn’t have enough crew. They’d make it through this year, but next she’d have to make some changes.

  “Finally,” Peter said as it was their turn to tender. “How long have we been waiting?”

  “Too long.” She motored the skiff alongside the tender. Peter grabbed the painter’s line and tied a quick clove hitch, securing the bow to the Time Bandit. She did the same in the stern and then killed the engine. It was the only engine currently running. She’d tried to talk to Gramps again about buying a new one to replace the drowned engine, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Until he had the water-logged one up and running—if fixing it was even possible—they were down to one skiff fishing four set net sites. No wonder she and Peter were so tired.

  The tender lowered the crane with the cabled scale for the first brailer. Sonya steadied the scale while Peter ran the ropes through the corner ears of the brailer bag, and then secured them to the hook on the digital scale. Sonya waited for Peter to step back, and then signaled for the tender to pull up the heavy brailer full of fish.

  Slowly the hydraulic crane raised the brailer, then it suddenly swung wide. Straight for Peter standing in the bow.

  “Look out!” Sonya screamed, watching in horror as the brailer hit Peter. He tumbled overboard into the cold, angry water. Sonya rushed to the edge of the skiff, screaming his name. There was no sign of him in the dark, murky water. “Peter!”

  Vaguely, she heard orders yelled from the Time Bandit above her. Noise rushed like a waterfall in her ears, an alarm sounded, and everything around her slowed. Please God, she prayed, she couldn’t lose another loved one to this damned ocean

  Sonya blinked, seeing flames of the past licking the Mystic as she burned into the ocean. Sasha’s screams pierced the night as she struggled in the water. The silence. Frigid, thick water swept her mother, as she bobbed face down on the surface, away from Sonya’s grasping reach.

  Peter suddenly surfaced, sputtering, breaking the death-hold of the past Sonya had sunk into.

  “Damn, this water is cold,” he said.

  Sonya choked as tears ran unchecked down her face. She stretched over the edge and tried to reach Peter with her hands, but he was too far. The river current swept him farther as each second ticked away. “Hold on, Peter.”

  “Onto what?” he asked, fighting his rain gear to tread water.

  “Get your chest waders off,” yelled one of the guys on the tender. If Peter didn’t get them off now, they’d fill up with water and drag him down to his grave.

  “T-trying,” Peter said, pulling at the snaps on his rain jacket. Then his head dipped under the water again.

  “Peter!” Oh, God. She was going to lose him too. As though sound were being filtered through a long tunnel, she heard commotion going on above her as the crew on the Time Bandit scrambled to help. An inflatable ring landed on the surface of the water where Peter had gone under. Sonya whimpered and ripped off her rain jacket, struggling to unsnap the hooks of her own chest waders, ready to jump in after him.

  He finally resurfaced.

  “Damn, that w-wasn’t easy,” he tried to joke. Sonya sobbed and snatched the boat hook, reaching it out into the water for Peter to grab on to. It wasn’t long enough.

  “I gotcha, Peter,” Aidan hollered, appearing from out of nowhere with Lana. He maneuvered his skiff next to Peter. Sonya shook with relief as Aidan pulled Peter into his boat with Lana’s help. “Got him, Sonya.”

  “Peter?” Sonya hollered, not able to control the shrill tone of her voice. She needed to see him, hold him, know for herself that he was okay.

  With Aidan’s help, Peter stood, soaking wet and shaking. “I’m f-fine, S-Sonya. J-just c-c-cold.”

  “Sonya, you finish up there,” Aidan called. “I’ll get him safely back to camp and warmed up.” Ai
dan was already stripping Peter out of his wet outer clothes and giving him the ones off his back. “Don’t worry, Sonya. I’ll get him back safe. He’ll be fine and have one hell of a great story to tell.”

  Still, she stood at the rail of her skiff not able to look away from her shivering brother.

  “Sonya!” She jerked at Aidan’s tone and tore her eyes from Peter to meet Aidan’s.

  “Take care of business, and then join us at camp.” He paused, his eyes boring into hers. “Can you do that?”

  She glanced at the three remaining brailers full of fish in the bottom of her skiff and then to the men on deck of the tender, waiting for her to give the signal to lower the crane. She stared back at Peter shivering in Aidan’s jacket, with Lana’s arms wrapped around him. He needed to get warm, and she was holding everyone up.

  “Y-yes. I can do that.” Her voice gained strength. “Get him back to camp.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Aidan gave her a proud smile and a salute. Peter sent her a wobbly grin and a thumbs up signal.

  Sonya’s heart pounded so hard in her chest, that for a moment it was the only sound she heard. Then she straightened her shoulders and motioned for the boom to be lowered. The sooner she finished unloading her catch, the sooner she could get back to camp. Then she’d make sure every hair on Peter’s head was okay.

  “I don’t know how I can ever thank you, Aidan.” Sonya had returned to camp to find Grams mothering Peter with cookies and hot chocolate, and Gramps mummifying him with blankets as her brother regaled them with the telling of his impromptu swim. He had a bruise darkening the side of his face where the brailer had hit him. He was lucky that he didn’t have a concussion. The brailer had been seven hundred pounds heavy with salmon. If he’d been knocked unconscious when he’d hit the water—

  She couldn’t go there. Sonya swallowed the cocktail of panic and tears she’d been fighting all afternoon and tried to put forth a calm front. Aidan brushed the side of her arm, stealing her attention.

  “Walk with me?” His eyes beseeched her to agree.