Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel)

by Tiffinie Helmer

  Garrett caught her arm. “Hell, you’re wet clear through.” He steered her toward the pilot house, the action making her dizzy. “We’ve got to get you dry and warm.”

  He half-carried her up the stairs. She kept looking at her feet, wondering why they didn’t want to move. Guess they were already taking that nap she wanted so badly.

  “Judd, fire up the stove and heat some water. Damn fool was out there without her raingear and now she’s near frozen. I think she’s hypothermic or suffering from shock.”

  “Am not,” Sonya muttered, though no one seemed to pay attention.

  Garrett picked her up and set her on the bunk, stripped out of his jacket, and wrapped it snug around her. It was warm and dry from the heat of his body, and she wanted to snuggle into it and sleep for a week. “Stay here. I’ll get you some dry clothes.” He turned to Judd. “Watch her.”

  Sonya rested her heavy head back against the wall, her eyelids closing of their own volition. Words came at her like bouncing rubber balls, and she realized that another person had boarded her boat. Sounded like Skip. Great, just what she needed, another trooper. At this rate, they were swarming around her like mosquitoes. She hated mosquitoes. Dang blood suckers. Someone lifted her, and took Garrett’s warm jacket away.

  “No,” she murmured, trying to pull the jacket back over her. Why couldn’t everyone leave her the hell alone?

  “Hang in there, Sonya,” Garrett said.

  “Cold.” She tried to curl up into a ball but Garrett’s hands grabbed and yanked at her clothing.

  “I know, honey. I’m going to fix that right now. Guys, go away while I get her out of these wet clothes.”

  Frigid air slapped against tender skin as Garrett stripped her bare. She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped. Then he was stuffing her into a t-shirt, with a sweatshirt over that like she was a child. Next were soft, dry sweatpants, followed by two layers of socks. Garrett then wrapped her tight in a blanket.

  “Better?”

  “Hmm,” was all she could answer. Now, if she could get some shuteye.

  “I’m going to dry your hair now,” he warned as he pulled the hair tie out that held her ponytail in place. Next, he vigorously towel-dried her hair until it hung loose around her face in damp lengths. “Feeling any warmer?”

  “Fine. Sleep now.”

  “No sleep. Not until I know you’re warm and out of danger.” He sat her up and forced a hot cup of tea into her hands. “Drink this,” he ordered. Seemed like he was doing a lot of that. Wasn’t this her boat and wasn’t she the one in charge?

  He helped her hold the rim of the cup to her lips, and she sipped, grimacing at the taste. “Too sweet.”

  “Drink it anyway.”

  She took another sip and then pushed it away. “Enough. Tired.”

  “I know you’re tired. Your body’s shutting down. Fight it, babe,” he said, his tone quiet but hard.

  She looked into his worried eyes and found the strength to drink more of the syrupy tea.

  “That’s my girl.” He set the cup down and then began rubbing her limbs. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so cold? Why the hell didn’t you put on your raingear?”

  “Forgot. Worried about the boat.”

  “You need to take care of yourself or you’re no good to anyone. The boat isn’t worth your life, Sonya.”

  “If the boat sank, I’d be in the water.” She shuddered. “Can’t let that happen.”

  He moved to rub her legs and pricks of pain followed. She wanted to push him away, but knew that blood was returning to her limbs, and she’d have to bear through his ministrations. She hadn’t realized how much trouble she was in until her body started to seriously shiver in an attempt to warm itself. If she’d been alone—

  Judd and Skip entered the pilot house.

  “Give you enough time?” Judd asked, looking over Sonya with Garrett’s hands all over her. “Or do you need more?”

  “She’s getting her color back.” Garrett continued to rub her limbs, helping the blood circulate.

  Skip commandeered her captain’s chair. “You seem to be plagued, Sonya Savonski.”

  “Targeted,” Garrett corrected. “I take it you two saw for yourself the damage below?” At their nods, he continued, “This has gone on long enough. We’ve already got one dead body. I’m not going to let there be another.”

  “I take it you have a plan?” Skip asked.

  “I’m moving in,” Garrett said.

  “Moving where?” Sonya asked, her voice squeaking, afraid she already knew the answer.

  “Here. With you.” Garrett tightened his lips.

  “How is that keeping your relationship with her from interfering with your job?” Skip asked.

  “I’ll still be doing my job, just from the Double Dippin’.”

  “Your feelings for her have nothing to do with it?”

  “What I feel for her is none of your business. My job is to keep her alive, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “I don’t think you need to be onboard her boat to achieve that.” Skip leaned forward, elbows on knees.

  “We’ve been keeping an eye on Sonya, she’s made sure that none of her crew are alone, yet someone was still able to board the Double Dippin’ sometime in the last few hours and sabotage it. If Sonya hadn’t been so tuned to the running of her boat and acted as fast as she did, she’d have sunk. If this had happened when Sonya was sleeping, with the disabled alarm, she would have died. The only realistic course of action is to plant a trooper onboard.”

  “Wait just a d-damn minute,” Sonya interrupted, her teeth chattering as her body shivered. “No f-fish cop is s-staying on my b-boat.”

  Garrett nailed her with a look that had her biting back the rest of her objections. At least for the moment. “The decision is out of your hands, Sonya.”

  “We need your help in policing the fishermen, Hunt,” Skip said.

  “Part of our duties also includes ensuring the safety of the fishermen. We can achieve that better by having me on the inside, posing as one of them.”

  “P-people already know who you are,” Sonya said. “H-how would you pass for a f-fisherman?”

  “Not many are going to pay that much attention. They’ll be busy fishing. The one who will is the person, or persons, causing you trouble. Hopefully, knowing that I’m on board, he’ll think twice before targeting you again.”

  “Right,” she scoffed. “If anything, you’ll become a target too. F-fishermen are sneaky. They make a living preying on fast, s-slippery salmon.”

  Skip tapped his fingers together and addressed Sonya, “So you think that by Garrett entrenching himself among your crew, he’ll actually lure out the perpetrator?”

  “Well, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. Weren’t cops supposed to be clever?

  Garrett gave Skip a shrewd smile. “I have no problem being a mark. Been one before. My main objective is to keep Sonya and her family safe.”

  “I think he ought to do it.” Judd had been quiet during the discussion.

  Skip regarded Garrett and Judd, and then looked at Sonya. He pursed his lips and then nodded. “All right, we’ll give it a try. But, Hunt, I believe your biggest challenge will be in getting Sonya’s cooperation.”

  Damn straight. It was bad enough that she’d slept with a fish cop.

  She was not shacking up with one.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Garrett hauled his duffel aboard the Double Dippin’ and surveyed Sonya’s mutinous expression. Skip had been right. Getting her to willingly cooperate with his plan was going to be his biggest hurdle. He’d changed his clothes for more acceptable fishing attire of jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt. Having him out of uniform didn’t seem to soften her attitude toward him though.

  “This is a stupid idea,” Sonya said, her hands fisted on her hips, her legs braced apart on the deck to help buffet the waves battering the sides of the hull. A ball cap rode low over her eyes and covered her hair that still hun
g loose around her face.

  Garrett was relieved to see that her anger had done the trick of warming her up. She seemed ready to breathe fire. “Stupid or not, I’m moving in.” He untied the rope at the stern, which secured the Calypso to the Double Dippin’, and then moved to the rope at the bow.

  “This is my boat, and I have a say—”

  “Save your breath, Sonya.” He unhitched the knot and threw the rope over to the deck of the Calypso, and muscled his way past her, up into the pilot house, where he dropped his duffel on the bunk. Through the Double Dippin’s windows, he watched the Calypso set sail. Damned if he wasn’t staying put. “Where do you want me to put my things?” He turned as she entered behind him.

  Her mouth opened and closed and then opened again, doing that fish mouth thing that he found so adorable. “I’ll tell you where you can put your—”

  He interrupted her again, but this time by dragging her against him. Her breath rushed out in a whoosh. “Tell me you aren’t savoring the chance to make love with me again? Some place more comfortable than against the side of a Jeep.” He lowered his voice to a seductive whisper, “Where I can explore your body all night long with no chance of interruption.”

  Heat of another sort fought with the anger in her eyes, and he couldn’t help the smile that teased free.

  “Y-you are not sleeping in my bed.”

  He cocked a brow. “Who said anything about sleeping, sweetheart.”

  “Why you arrogant, overbearing fish cop.” She pushed free of his embrace. “I am not having sex with you again. Been there, done that. Time to cut bait.”

  Cut bait? What was he? A piece of meat? Only good enough for a one night stand and a frantic fuck against a Jeep? He’d battled panic earlier when she’d been dangerously cold, alarm over more proof that someone wanted her dead. Now he was doing his level best to protect her, and she wanted nothing to do with him? It was enough to make any man lose his grip on sanity. He yanked her flush against him and silenced her mouth but good. Hungrily, he slanted his lips over hers, licked into her mouth and made a meal of her until her arms knotted around his neck, and a moan flowed from deep within her throat, as she arched into him.

  Now that was more like it. Time to cut bait, my ass.

  He knocked the ball cap free of her hair and tunneled his fingers into the loose strands, loving how they felt against his skin, and kept her head prisoner to his plundering mouth.

  “Tell me, Sonya,” he said, breaking the kiss, his voice hoarse with the effort it cost him to reel back his need. “Was that enough of a lure to welcome me back into your bed?”

  Sonya swallowed past the unwanted feelings impeding her better judgment. What had she been objecting to? Sex with Garrett. Now why had she been objecting again? That’s right, he’d commandeered her vessel. Well, to be honest, he hadn’t taken over the running of her boat, but he’d plowed over her protests as though he had no regard for them or her. She knew he was trying to protect her but—with him on her boat—he’d just put her smack dab in harm’s way.

  Uniform or no uniform, he was still a fish cop, and every fisherman out there on the water would know it. She might as well use his alibi and end all the speculation, for her reputation was surely ruined with him inhabiting her boat.

  “You’re sleeping up here.” She pointed to the bunk in the pilot house. “Alone. If you insist on staying to protect me, then that’s what you are going to do. Protect me and mine. No fringe benefits.”

  “I can protect you better if I’m close to you.”

  “No. You need to treat me as just another job.”

  “You aren’t just a job.” His eyes narrowed in warning. “I care about you.” It looked as though it physically hurt him to say that. Not the declaration every woman dreamt of.

  “What does that mean, ‘you care about me’? Are you in love with me? Want to be with me always and forever, until death do us part? Or is this a summer fling? Not a lot of women out here, and you found yourself some easy entertainment?”

  “Babe, there is nothing easy about you.” If at all possible, his eyes narrowed even farther, until she barely caught the piercing glint promising a storm to come. “Sonya—”

  “No.” She held up her hand. “No more.” Now she’d had it. “I need a break.” She reached for her rain jacket hanging on the hook.

  “Where are you going?”

  She paused with her hand on the door to the pilot house, not liking that he wanted her to explain herself. “I said I needed a break.”

  “I don’t want you outside in the rain after what happened earlier.”

  It was hard staying mad at someone who seemed to be looking out for her best interests, but she made the effort. “I’m going to check on the guys, change places with one of them.” Anything to get away from him for a while. Until she could reestablish some sort of normalcy or, at the very least, regain authority over her own life, damn it.

  “Think again. I’m here to keep you safe, which means I don’t leave your side.”

  “You’ve got to be joking.”

  “Not laughing, sweetheart. Consider me your shadow until this situation is resolved.”

  “This won’t work. There will be times when I’ll need to go set netting, to the cabin, pick up supplies at the cannery, or shower.”

  “I’ll be with you.”

  She swallowed hard at the vision of them showering together. She knew he hadn’t meant it the way she took it, but her mind went right to bubbles and steam, and slick, wet skin sliding against each other. “I need alone time, Garrett. Someone will have to protect you from me, if I don’t get a moment to myself.”

  “Enough.” He grabbed her arm, wrestled her rain jacket out of her hands, and tossed it on the bunk, then he plunked her down in the captain’s chair. Leaning over her with his hands resting on the arms, he caged her in. They were both breathing heavy by the time he was done.

  “Listen up, Sonya Savonski. I know you’re scared and trying to put up a strong front. It’s okay to be worried. In fact, it’s damn smart. It’s also okay to accept help when you need it. And yes, you need it.” He laid a finger against her lips to silence her objection. “Wait until I’m finished and then I’ll let you have your say.” He removed his finger from her mouth. “I know this isn’t the best situation, and if you could, you’d choose to do something different. But you can’t and there isn’t. The season’s almost over, and this is a temporary condition. One that will hopefully end to everyone’s satisfaction.

  “Now—” he straightened and made a come-and-get-me gesture with his fingers, “let me have it.”

  Damn, she hated that he was right. Hated that she was in this position, and hated that she needed his help. “Okay, I might need your help, but I don’t have to like it.” She sounded like an ungrateful child, but couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

  “Tell me this, Sonya, if Peter was captain and the attacks and evidence were directed toward him, would you have a problem with me stepping in?”

  “That’s an unfair question.”

  “No, it isn’t. What are you really objecting to? The situation or me? Would you rather Judd take my place?”

  “No,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “What was that?”

  She knew he’d heard her. “No. All right?” She glared at him. “Are you happy now? Yes, I hate the situation but having you here…so close…messes with me, okay?”

  “Messes with you how?” He lowered his voice, turning it all sexy again.

  “I don’t want to care for you and…and with you so near…it makes that harder.”

  He kneeled down so that they were eyelevel, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It makes it harder for me too. Listen, I think it might be a good idea to know where we stand with each other.” His eyes searched hers, reflecting heat now instead of ice, and she had an overwhelming need to reach out and brush her hands over his squared, muscled shoulders, let his arms hold her tight against his chest, fee
l his—

  “Yo, Sonya!” Peter hollered from outside.

  She was grateful for the interruption. She wasn’t ready to go where Garrett had tried to take their conversation, and she was afraid any more time in close proximity, she’d have her way with him. Before that happened she really needed to get down with the reality of what she actually felt toward him.

  Garrett stood, freeing her from her chair. She grabbed her rain jacket, struggling into it as she rushed on deck to where Peter and Wes idled the skiff alongside the Double Dippin’. Unfortunately, Garrett was right behind her like that shadow he’d talked about. She felt the heat generating from his body and was surprised the rain hitting him didn’t rise off his massive shoulders in the form of steam.

  “We tendered a total of thirty-five hundred pounds!” Peter said. “The fish were all on the ebb tide. Just liked you thought they’d be.” He frowned at Garrett. “Why’s the fish cop still onboard?”

  “Pull the nets and running lines and meet me at the cabin, and I’ll explain it to you there. Good job fishing today, guys.” She waved them off and regarded the rapidly receding tide, knowing she should have kept a keener eye on her surroundings. See, the man was already messing with her. She turned to Garrett. “All right. If you’re going to pose as a fisherman, better start acting like one. We need to pull anchor. I want to be at the cabin before the tide goes out much farther.”

  “You got it, Captain.” Without complaint, Garrett headed to the bow of the boat. She watched him walk, enjoying the way he strutted. Not cocky but confident. He looped the anchor line over the front roller, and she hurried to the pilot house to engage the hydraulics to help drag it in. Once the chain rattled over the roller, Garrett finished manually pulling in the anchor, dragging it on deck, out of the way, next to the rail. She’d seen many men lift heavy objects, but none had quite the effect on her that Garrett produced. Made her remember last night on the beach and how he’d picked her up in his arms, held her against the side of the Jeep, and took her body with his in an act so elemental, so feral, it bordered on claiming.