Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel)

by Tiffinie Helmer

  “Game?” She narrowed her stare and gave Kendrick a glare that stabbed. “I don’t play games and I refuse to be toyed by you any longer.” She poked him again. Hard. “Lay off me, my family, and my fishing operation. Or you will be floating belly up.”

  “I haven’t messed with you, yet. And I don’t take threats from anyone, least of all a little girl and her puppy of a boyfriend.”

  “Can I hit him now, Sonya?” Aidan asked.

  “No, that’s what he wants you to do.” She had to get Kendrick to throw the first punch. Insults, pushing, and poking hadn’t done it. Maybe this would? “Haven’t messed with me, huh? Like you didn’t sell my dad a compromised boat?”

  “She was sound until he got his hands on her. Your dad always did have a problem with his women.”

  Aidan grabbed her arm, before she could swing, anchoring her clenched fist to her side. Kendrick baited like a pro. She’d be swinging her fistful of rolled quarters first if she wasn’t careful.

  “My dad did enjoy a woman with passion rather than the dead fish, which I’ve heard is more to your liking.”

  That did it.

  She saw him move and did what Aidan had taught her. Just as Kendrick’s sledgehammer fist flew at her face, she jerked her head back and to the side, taking the power out of the punch. His meaty knuckles grazed her cheek, but even that little force had stars twinkling behind her eyes.

  Kendrick was still moving through his swing, when she sucker-punched him in the soft underbelly of his considerable gut, stealing his wind.

  Both crewmen went for Aidan. He was art in motion, a roundhouse kick here, a block there. Though a lucky punch did get him on the chin, and knocked him back into Judd—who’d shown up from somewhere—dropping them both to the floor in a tangled heap of arms and legs.

  Sonya jumped back as Kendrick roared. His breath returned. He was like a bear with a wounded paw and intent on assuaging his rage with her demise. He came at her like a brick wall. She ducked and side-stepped, and then jabbed her boot into the side of his knee. He howled and went down like a bag of concrete.

  Cool.

  The few lessons Aidan had schooled her in that afternoon had paid off. A couple of claps sounded throughout the bar, followed by, “You show him, Sonya.”

  “Break it up!” Garrett stepped between Sonya and Kendrick.

  Somehow, she’d known the fish cop would show as soon as she’d seen Judd.

  “Don’t even try it,” Garrett growled at Kendrick as he came up off the floor with a broken beer bottle raised in his hand.

  Kendrick backed down, spitting out, “Motherfucker,” under his breath.

  Sonya couldn’t help but smile though her cheek throbbed like a son of a bitch. Baiting Kendrick had been a hell of a lot of fun. Scary as all get out, but exhilarating at the same time. Like taking on Jason in Friday the 13th. She’d faced him, punched him, and taken him down.

  Who was the coward now, baby?

  “What the hell is going on here?” Garrett demanded, staring right at her, his ice-blue eyes freezing the edges off her fun.

  “Just having conversation,” she replied.

  His jaw tightened.

  Guess he wasn’t receptive to her sarcasm as the entertained crowd. She glanced at Aidan. He was much more in tune to her mood. He had the tattooed crewman in a head lock, while the skinny one lay unconscious on the floor at his feet.

  Judd dusted himself off as Davida helped him regain his footing. Aidan’s lips smiled at Sonya, and she couldn’t help but curve hers in return. Garrett took the whole thing in, and his icy look frosted over.

  “I want to press charges,” Kendrick boomed.

  “What for?” Sonya asked. “Kicking your butt?” The crowd chuckled with her.

  “She came in here and started a fight,” Kendrick returned. A few agreements came from the spectators.

  “Is that true, Sonya?” Garrett asked.

  She smiled, enjoying every minute of this evening. “He threw the first punch.” She motioned to the nodding crowd. “I have witnesses.”

  “Did you throw the first punch?” Garrett asked Kendrick.

  Kendrick tightened his lips and, if possible, turned a deeper shade of purple.

  “Judd, take statements.” He pointed to Aidan. “Start with him. Back up is on their way.” Garrett grabbed Sonya by the arm. “You are coming with me.”

  “Hey,” she sputtered. “I want to press charges.” She pointed to her swelling cheek. “He did hit me first.”

  Garrett took a step and stumbled. He caught himself, and then reached down and picked up a roll of quarters Sonya dropped during the tussle. His incredulous look met hers. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut and come with me.”

  Looked as though the fun was over.

  She glanced back as Garrett pulled her out of the Pitt, her gaze finding Aidan. She mouthed the words “thank you.” He grinned and winked at her. Then she caught the murderous look Kendrick sent her.

  Chills erupted on her skin. Had she just made matters worse?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Pick the place,” Garrett growled once they were outside the Pitt. He still hadn’t let go of her arm.

  “What?”

  “You and me. We are going to talk. Your choices are the Calypso, the cannery, or the Double Dippin’. Since you’re so concerned over what everyone else thinks, pick the place, or I will.” His expression was firm and left no room open for discussion. “If I choose, I guarantee you won’t like where I take you.”

  The Calypso wasn’t even an option. No way would she willingly board a trooper boat. Nowhere at the cannery was private enough. Whatever he had to talk to her about would be all over the bay by next tide if they went there. He hadn’t mentioned Red Fox Camp. She didn’t want to have any “talk” around her grandparents. Plus, when they found out what she and Aidan had pulled tonight, they would conduct their own “talk” with her.

  That left the Double Dippin’.

  “Fine, my boat. But you’re not taking the Jeep.” She pointed to the big brown vehicle with Alaska Wildlife Trooper printed on the doors. “I’m not having that trooper beacon parked next to my boat. We’ll take my 4-wheeler.”

  She stomped to the ATV, not liking that she would be seen with Garrett in his uniform traveling the short distance to the Double Dippin’. How many fishermen could be out and about? Most should be sleeping. “Here.” She picked up the rain jacket she left on the seat of the ATV and handed it to him. “Put this on.”

  He held his ground, refusing the jacket. If anything his expression went from firm to stone. “You need to get over your problem with my uniform.”

  “Not going to happen.” She shook the jacket as though to reinforce that he needed to put it on.

  “Sonya,” Garrett growled.

  The little hairs on the back of her neck rose and she put the jacket on herself. Maybe if she hunched over and pulled the hood over her head, no one would know Garrett was with her. The news of him dragging her out of the Pitt was probably already traveling the cork line. Especially since Davida had been a witness.

  With no choice, she got on the 4-wheeler. He mounted behind her. A thrill shot through her as he climbed on. As angry as she was, sexual heat mixed in. She closed her eyes and tried to filter out his enticing scent of power. Closing her eyes was the wrong thing to do. If anything it brought to focus all that he could make her feel.

  She revved the ATV and jerked it into gear. She headed down the dirt road to the cannery, and then down the ramp to the beach. With the tide out, she was able to drive the ATV right up to the back of the Double Dippin’. Peter met her outside, having heard them pull up, with Gracie riding snug in the waistband of his pants.

  “Hey, you’re back.” He stated the obvious and then frowned when he saw Garrett. “Why’d you bring the fish cop?”

  “Trooper,” Garrett corrected through clenched teeth. “How many times do I have to say it?”

  Peter looked at Sonya. �
��We aren’t in trouble, are we? Don’t tell me something else happened?” His face went white. “Gramps?”

  “Everything’s fine. Garrett just wanted to talk to me about…stuff.” She shrugged as if Garrett’s presence was no big deal. She wasn’t going to inform her little brother she and Aidan had pulled a stunt that now began to seem a bit childish. “Why don’t you take the 4-wheeler back to camp?”

  “Leave the fish cop, er, trooper here with you? Alone?”

  “I can handle him,” Sonya stated.

  “You sure?” Peter asked, eyeing Garrett.

  Sonya took a peek. No wonder Peter acted so protective. Garrett’s expression was like the calm in a snow globe. One little shake and he’d be all storm.

  “Why don’t you check on Lana? I’m sure she could use a break from Cranky and Crafty.”

  That had Peter disembarking. Once he reached the muddy sand, he handed over the pistol. “Keep Gracie with you. I’ll see you later.” He nodded to Garrett, jumped on the 4-wheeler and roared off down the beach.

  Sonya tucked Gracie into the front of her waistband and climbed aboard the Double Dippin’ feeling Garrett’s presence like a kerosene heater set on high at her back. She entered the pilot house and immediately shut all the curtains. There were too many boats dry around her that could see into the wheel house for her liking.

  “Okay, let me have it.” She sighed. The sooner he reprimanded her, the sooner he could get off her boat and walk back to the cannery.

  “Think you can handle me, do you?”

  She recalled the careless words she’d thrown at Peter. They’d been meant to reassure, but obviously Garrett had taken them a whole other way. He took a threatening step toward her in the small space, which didn’t leave her with much room to move, let alone breathe. His powerful shoulders blocked her view of the rest of the room. All she saw were those shoulders, big and broad, and his chest, roped with muscle. She remembered all too well what his muscles had felt like. The pilot house suddenly seemed not just small, but much too warm.

  “How are you going to handle me, Sonya?” His tone had lowered and had the effect of the bottom dropping out of her stomach. It was threatening and sexy as hell. Bringing him to the Double Dippin’ wasn’t the best place she could have chosen after all.

  She was having one night of lousy decisions.

  “Say your piece, and then get off my boat.”

  “Do you know how asinine your actions were tonight?”

  She had a pretty good idea, but she wasn’t going to admit it. At least not to him. “I showed Kendrick that I’m not going to roll over like all the other fishermen out here. He knows I’m watching him now.”

  “You jeopardized the surveillance we had him under. He’ll be more careful now. Sneakier. And since his ego is now at stake, he’ll be meaner.”

  She bit back a smile, remembering how it felt to have Kendrick gasping for breath at her feet.

  “You might have enjoyed yourself tonight, but you set my operation back weeks, if not sunk it all together.”

  She swallowed her smile, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

  “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you come to me first, instead of Harte? I know that Nikolai’s injury shook you up, and I understand the need for action, but Sonya, do you have any idea what could have happened to you tonight?”

  “I was prepared, and Aidan was with me.”

  “Against Kendrick and his hoodlums? What if the patrons of the bar turned and sided with Kendrick? As it was, they didn’t do anything to come to your aid.”

  “I didn’t need their help. I had things under control.”

  “No, you didn’t. If Judd and I hadn’t intervened when we did, the situation would’ve gone to hell. Where would your family be if you were too hurt to fish? Or worse? What would happen to Peter? Your grandparents? Wes? You are the glue that holds your family together. Without you, they would be lost.”

  Why did he have to be so damn intuitive? Why did he have to be right? “I was thinking—”

  “It’s about damn time you started. The attacks you’ve had are serious. The person behind them isn’t playing games. Your grandfather could have been killed.”

  She turned away from his accusing eyes, breath catching in the back of her throat. He was right. It had been a long time since she’d been ashamed of her actions. Made to feel like an irresponsible child. She didn’t like it.

  “Sonya—”

  “No.” She held up her hand, not turning around. “You’re right. What I did was stupid and childish.”

  She felt more than heard him come up behind her. He laid his hands on her shoulders. “And brave.” He turned her to face him. “Stupid, but brave. From what I’ve been able to gather, Kendrick has bullied everyone in this area for years. Nobody has had the guts to stand up to him. Until now.” He smoothed the loose hair that had come out of her ponytail, behind her ears. “You scared the hell out of me tonight. Seeing Kendrick hit you took years off my life.” He gently brushed the swelling on her cheek.

  At least Kendrick hadn’t hit the side of her face that had been cut. The force of his fist would have reopened the healing wound.

  “You need to be more careful with this face.” His fingers lingered. “How bad does it hurt?”

  “I barely feel it.” She felt something all together stronger. There was a different heat flaring in his eyes now. It warmed her to the very core and had her backing up out of his reach. “You need to leave, Garrett.” She swallowed at the intent in his eyes.

  Garrett reached for the pistol she’d tucked into the waistband of her jeans and pulled the gun free. The sharp plinking of the bullets ricocheted in the small room as he unloaded and deposited both the gun and the bullets in the small sink behind her.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “You can’t stay,” Sonya said.

  Garrett steeled himself against the flare of unease in her eyes. “We both knew the moment you sent Peter off with the 4-wheeler, I’d be staying.” He reached up and released her ponytail, his gaze captured by the strands as they flowed like expensive silk through his fingers.

  “The tide is still out,” she said then moaned as he ran his hands through her hair and rubbed the tight muscles at the base of her skull. “You can walk back to the cannery,” she whispered, her eyes closing as he moved his hands to her neck and massaged the knots he found.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated, loving the way she melted in his arms. One minute she was the hard, bust-your-balls fisherman, the next, a soft, seductive woman. “We’ve been waltzing around each other long enough not to finally dance.”

  “This is really a bad idea, Garrett.”

  His hands cradled her face, and he tipped her head back and firmly took her mouth, silencing her objections. She stiffened and raised her hands as though to push him away, but then her fingers curled into the jacket of his uniform and pulled him closer.

  “Garrett.” She backed away and gazed into his eyes. She wet her lips and he almost hit his knees, ready to beg. He didn’t know if he could leave her this time and didn’t want to put it to the test.

  “I haven’t danced in a long time,” she said, her expression soft and hesitant, “and I’ve never been much of a dancer.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t saying no, she was nervous. Hell, so was he. He couldn’t remember a time when making love with a woman meant so much. “Just follow my lead.”

  “Wait.” She retreated, and he almost groaned when she shook her head. “I can’t make love to a trooper.”

  Not the damn job again.

  A flare of anger intruded and mixed with his desire. “Sonya,” he warned, his tone strained. There was only so much he could take.

  A wicked glint entered her deep brown eyes. “Lose the uniform.”

  His world turned upside down. Who was taking the lead now? If it got him inside her, he’d gladly let her take control. For a little whi
le anyway. Without a word, he stripped out of the jacket and tossed it on the bunk. Her eyes followed the flick of each button he released on his shirt. He’d never had a woman watch him strip with such obvious want before. It unnerved and titillated at the same time. He pulled the shirt free from his pants and yanked it off his shoulders, hurling it in the direction of his jacket. He paused with his hands on his belt. She needed to do some catching up. “Lose your uniform,” he ordered.

  She swallowed, bit her lip, and reached out a hand, brushing the muscles on his stomach. He sucked in his breath and captured her hand in his, knowing he wouldn’t last long if she touched him.

  “I’m not in uniform,” she said, her voice caressing his skin like crushed velvet.

  “Close enough.” Tonight her sweatshirt had “Lean Mean Fishing Machine” written across the front. Again, he wondered if she chose her clothes to suit her mood. Considering that she’d taken Kendrick on, had him believing she did. “Every fisherman out here dresses like you do. Sweatshirts, jeans,” he glanced to her boots, “reliable footwear.”

  “How else are we supposed to dress? Heels and short skirts wouldn’t look right on the guys and would be too impractical for picking fish.”

  “Damn, what I would give to see you in high heels and a short skirt.” He closed his eyes briefly and enjoyed the image. He’d only seen her in casual attire. Extreme casual. What would he do to see her gussied up?

  She gave a seductive tilt to her lips and he could see her cataloging the information away. He’d better be careful what he revealed. Knowing her, she’d find a way to drive him crazy with the information. “I’ll have to remember that,” she said.

  “Unless you’re with me, there’s no need to remember it.”

  “That statement sounds like tonight is more than just about sex.” Though she hadn’t asked a question, it came out like one.

  “You have a problem with that?” His heart thudded hard in his chest as he waited for her reply.

  “I might.” Alarm flickered in her expression, and she retrieved her hand back.

  “Get over it. I’ve had to.” He wouldn’t let her insecurities feed his. He wasn’t made for long term relationships, but with her, he found himself forgoing his usual “boundaries” speech. He pulled her into his arms.