Being cold wasn’t her problem now. In fact, she could use a cooling off period before Garrett joined her. He entered the pilot house too soon, and instead of taking a seat on the bunk, which would give her some much needed breathing room, he stood next to her as she drove. Heat tingled over her skin and made her palms sweaty.
Having Garrett onboard was going to be a trial in more ways than one.
Later that evening, Sonya had a pow-wow with her family, explaining to everyone what happened to the Double Dippin’ that afternoon and the new trooper development. Garrett currently kept watch aboard the boat, which was dry in front of the cabin. He’d allowed her to leave to talk to her family as long as she promised not to venture anywhere else. She knew he meant toward the Harte’s camp. Her grandparents seemed relieved over the news. Not this afternoon’s vandalism, but having Garrett literally onboard.
When she left the cabin to return to the Double Dippin’, she was loaded down with a bag of aluminum-wrapped food Grams had prepared. Salmon hunks, homemade dill weed bread, cheddar cheese slices, and the last of the German Chocolate cake. The rain had finally stopped, though the air was still wet as if the weather was only taking a moment to catch its breath.
She saw Aidan waiting for her as soon as she hit the beach.
“Who the hell is that onboard your boat?” Aidan demanded, pointing to Garrett standing on deck.
She quickly brought him up to date.
“What do you mean he’s staying on the Double Dippin’?”
“Please don’t make me repeat it,” Sonya said.
“You know what this looks like, don’t you?” He leaned into her personal space. “Like you’re siding with the enemy.”
“Technically, the enemy is siding with me.” She felt the need to point out.
“Yeah, I’m sure the fishermen are going to swallow that whopper whole. Why, Sonya? Why would you agree to this?”
“I didn’t have much choice in the matter,” she mumbled.
“Is it the sex? Couldn’t you wait to hook up with him until after fishing?”
She sent him a warning look. “Don’t go there.”
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Silence settled heavy between them and Sonya heard Cranky or Crafty—she couldn’t tell which—cackle from down the beach. They were stooped over a makeshift table made of driftwood and broken pilings, a strange lineup of household cleaners littering the sand at their feet. “What are they doing?”
“They missed celebrating the Fourth of July because of weather and fishing. Tomorrow’s forecasted to be clear. You know how they are about their fireworks.”
Yeah, homemade and hazardous.
“Listen, Sonya, if you feel like you need protection…” He let the sentence trail.
“Thanks, Aidan, but I think its best if we leave the situation the way it is. I could use your help keeping an eye on my family and the cabin.”
“Right.” The look in his gaze changed from powerless to purpose. “You got it.” He reached out his hand and gently grasped her upper arm. “Don’t worry about a thing and please…be careful.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. He released her, and with just one backward glance, headed to his camp.
Sonya watched him walk up the beach, shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, and she knew he’d just said good-bye to her.
She turned, ready to return to the Double Dippin’, and came up short when she caught sight of Garrett, standing in the bow, with a pair of binoculars aimed at her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Garrett lay on the narrow bunk and tried to sleep as the boat lightly bobbed with the incoming tide. No breeze gusted against the windows as the weather had cleared, revealing a starry night, which winked at him through the glass as though finding his situation funny.
Who else was laughing at him?
Seeing Sonya with Aidan on the beach, their body language comfortable, intimate, as they stood close to one another still burned in his memory. The way Aidan had touched her. The hold had been brief, but the feeling behind it spoke loud and clear from where Garrett had watched them. Was he kidding himself trusting Sonya that her relationship with Aidan was over? It didn’t seem over to him. In fact, lately it seemed he didn’t find Sonya without Harte close by.
Too close.
Could that be why she’d put a kibosh on him sharing her bed? Was she confused over feelings she had for both of them? She had to feel something for him, to let caution fly the night they’d had each other against the side of the Jeep. Just the thought of their impulsive loving made him hard.
Ah, hell. No way would he get to sleep with thoughts like that filling his mind.
Garrett rolled to his side. He was going nowhere with this line of questions. He could speculate with the pros, after all he was a cop and that was part of his job. Wondering and worrying about Sonya was driving him nuts. He’d never been this tied up in knots over a woman before, and he didn’t like it. He should have kept things casual between them. Hell, he couldn’t figure out how his feelings had gotten away from him to begin with.
He strangled the pillow, so tied up over Sonya that he was ready to be committed. He was beginning to think long-term, which was terrifying enough, but the thought of not having her in his life not only troubled but downright saddened him. Saddened him to depths he’d never rappelled down before. He kicked off the sleeping bag roasting him like a toasted marshmallow and willed himself to sleep.
He’d been a SEAL, damn it. There’d been times he’d slept in places that weren’t fit to urinate in. He could sleep here. He shut his eyes and let his thoughts drift anywhere except the temptation of Sonya just a few feet below him.
He must have dozed, for what felt like mere minutes, when he found himself instantly alert. A shadow loomed like a ghost over him. Reflex had the gun he’d tucked under his pillow palmed and aimed at the heart of the intruder.
Then he caught a whiff of honeysuckle. “Sonya?”
Shit.
He released the hold on the trigger, his heartbeat stuttering to a halt, and let out a deep breath. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you sleeping with a gun?”
“Trooper, remember?” He tried to regulate his breathing. Having his own gun trained on Sonya had stopped his heart. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep down there. You need to trade me bunks.”
He leaned up on his elbow. “You are not sleeping up here. It’s too exposed. If I’m down there, I’ll be too far away from you in case there’s trouble.” He narrowed his eyes to try and see her features better, but the room was too full of shadows. “What’s really going on, Sonya?”
She sighed. “Every time I close my eyes, I feel like I’m drowning. I know its stupid memories triggered from the boat taking on water today. The hold is too small, too dark, and I can hear water all around me.”
He should have figured today’s scare would have generated nightmares of her past. “What if I come down and sleep with you?”
“Just sleep, nothing fishy?”
“If that’s what you want.” He held his breath hoping she’d say she wanted more.
“That’s what I want.”
He refused to let out the disappointed sigh stuck in his throat. “Okay.”
She turned and climbed the ladder back into the hold. He booby-trapped the pilot house door with the garbage can she had tucked under the sink. Anyone sneaking in would trip over that first, and awaken him if he wasn’t already awake. He doubted he’d get any sleep anyway laying next to Sonya and not being able to do anything “fishy.” He grabbed his pillow and his weapon, and followed her below.
The room was dark except for a weak beam of light coming from a flashlight, in need of a battery change, hanging from the wall at the head of the bed. It did provide enough light that he didn’t run into anything as he made his way to Sonya’s bed. The room smelled like her, dark honeyed-flowers with a touch of spring rain.
> She scooted in next to the wall, and he took the edge, lowering himself to a night of torture. She wiggled to her left, and then to her right, until finally settling. The boat swayed with the incoming tide. The water surging against the aluminum sides of the hull was different down here than up above in the pilot house. More rousing than soothing.
Sonya pulled the covers up to her chin and began tossing again. It was bad enough that he was deluged with memories of the last time he’d been in this bed with her and the boat had been a rockin’. He didn’t need her rolling around giving him even more ideas.
“Sonya,” he warned.
“Sorry. I can’t seem to get comfortable.”
He reached to shut off the flashlight.
“No, don’t turn it off.”
“It’s about to die anyway.”
“I know, but it’s too dark in here without the light. That’s why I wanted to sleep above,” she grumbled, somehow making this situation his fault.
“Why don’t we talk about something? Get your mind on something else.”
“Okay.” There was a long pause. “What do you want to talk about?”
Their relationship.
The last time he’d brought up the subject, he’d seen the panic flare in her eyes. Wasn’t he the one who was commitment phobic? Had he actually fallen for a woman who feared commitment more than he did? “Tell me about your parents, if it isn’t too painful.”
“It’s not really painful, more bittersweet now. Do you understand?”
He did. Time did that with death. It was the only way the ones left behind could cope with the loss. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Mom was one of those really beautiful women. Made-up, she knocked the breath out of you. Even on Sunday mornings, with no make-up, in her ratty pajamas, and her hair doing that bed-head thing, my dad couldn’t keep his eyes off her.”
Garrett saw the picture perfectly, only it was Sonya lounging around on a lazy Sunday morning in thread-bare pajamas and he was the man unable to tear his eyes from her. “Sounds like they had a good relationship.”
“Yeah, they really loved each other and us. It breaks my heart that Peter didn’t get to know them.”
“Peter’s been blessed to have you.”
“Thanks.” She turned on her side, facing him. “That means a lot, Garrett.”
He stayed on his back, facing forward, not wanting to gaze into those warm, seductive brown eyes of hers in the romantic glow of the fading flashlight. He’d try something fishy for sure.
“What about you?” she asked. “Are your parents still living?”
Good, concentrating on his parents would keep him from thinking of her naked. “Yeah, they live in Florida.”
“Do you have any siblings?” She asked the question as though realizing she didn’t know a lot about him.
“I’m an only child. Dad would have liked more, but Mom had her hands full with me. Since Dad was in the Navy, always away on a mission, and raising me was left to her, she made sure there weren’t going to be more Garretts running around.”
“That’s sad. You would probably have benefited from a sister or brother.”
“We probably would have conspired and taken over the chain of command.” He chuckled. “No, Mom had it right.”
“You couldn’t have been that bad.”
He’d rather not entertain her with stories of his illicit younger years. No reason to scare her off, since there was a chance she was carrying his offspring. “Let’s say I’m solely responsible for Mom going gray before her time.” Time for a change of subject. “What’s your life like in Soldotna?”
“Quiet. Normal. Boring.”
“I doubt boring.” He turned his head toward her, not able to resist looking at her as the musical resonance of her voice enticed. “I doubt you could be boring even if you tried.”
“Is that a good thing?” her voice lowered almost to a whisper.
He was beginning to get a fishy vibe. “Everything about you is good.” He couldn’t stop from turning on his side toward her. “And lovely.” His fingers trailed down the side of her face to her parted lips.
“You know what I said before, about nothing fishy?” He refrained—barely—from moaning his frustration. Then he felt her hand trailing down his chest. “Would you mind if we forget about that?”
“Are you sure?” He tore his eyes from her lips and met her gaze.
She nodded. “I need you, Garrett.”
“How do you need me, Sonya? For just tonight? What about tomorrow?” The day after that? Would she need him then?
“I’m trying to get through today. Can we let tonight be enough for now?”
He wanted to press for more. Had to literally bite back the words that might scare her off. “All right, we’ll make the most of tonight.”
She sighed into his arms and he realized that with everything she was dealing with, a promise to him for tomorrows she didn’t even know if she had, was too much to ask. It was up to him to make sure she had those tomorrows.
Then maybe she’d give them to him.
A piercing boom jolted Sonya and Garrett awake.
“What the hell was that?” Sonya asked, pushing hair away from her eyes. Garrett had already vaulted out of bed, one leg in his pants, before Sonya even sat up.
He finished buttoning his pants, and bare-chested, reached for the gun he’d tucked under his pillow. “Stay here.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” She jumped out of bed and struggled into the Under Armour that Garrett had stripped from her only an hour or so before.
“Sonya, I don’t have time to argue with you.”
“Then don’t, because I’m not staying put.” He looked like he wanted to strangle her. Too bad. She wasn’t the type of woman who took orders.
She was the type who gave them.
Garrett crept up the ladder, his gun leading the way, with Sonya hot on his tail. Another whistling bang rocked the night. It sounded like she’d anchored her boat on the frontline of a war zone. Then realization dawned and she started to laugh with relief.
“What’s so funny?” Garrett asked as he climbed into the pilot house and helped her up the last rung of the ladder.
“Fireworks. Cranky and Crafty are celebrating the Fourth of July.”
“They’re a week late.” Garrett cautiously peered out the window, motioning for her to stay down below the level of the glass.
“Weather’s been bad.”
“I don’t like this.” Another explosion rumbled and flared, lighting up the black sky.
“That was close,” Sonya said, worrying her bottom lip.
“Each one’s sounded closer than the last.” He peered out through the window again. “How far away from shore do you think we are?”
“What time is it?”
The face of Garrett’s watch shone green as he checked the time. “Just after two.”
“High tide isn’t until three. I’d say we’re at least a couple hundred yards. Why?” She was afraid she already knew why.
“In case we have to make a swim for it.”
She choked out a laugh. “Are you crazy? We’re on a boat! We pull anchor, I fire up the engines and we’re out of here.”
“We might not have that kind of time.”
Then she heard what he obviously already had. The coughing of a skiff’s motor followed by another boom.
This one rattled what was left of her windows.
Garrett took another peek and quickly slunk down next to her. “Some bastard’s shooting bombs at us with a slingshot,” he grounded out. He grabbed the mic to the VHF and radioed the Calypso, filling them in on their situation and location.
All the words ran together in a buzz of static for Sonya.
“Come on.” He grabbed her hand and tried to haul her out of the pilot house. She pulled back, her feet planted like spruce trees.
“I’m not leaving my boat.” Her voice shook and her body followed suit.
The captain alw
ays went down with the boat.
“Sonya, I know you’re scared. But we don’t have time for this. He gets any closer and we’re in trouble.”
“W-what about your g-gun? You can shoot him.”
“I’m damn well going to try. You need to be ready in case we have to make a swim for it.”
She shook her head, until hair flew in her face from the force of it. “I can’t s-swim, Garrett. I can’t.”
“I’ll be with you. It’ll be okay.”
It didn’t matter. She couldn’t get in that water. If she did, she was dead.
Garrett pulled her from the pilot house and down the stairs, to kneel next to the rail of the boat. The skiff sounded like it was right alongside the Double Dippin’.
“Kyra! I know you’re there with that bastard.”
“Kyra?” Garrett asked, a frown marring his forehead.
“My mother.” Sonya was just as puzzled as the look on Garrett’s face. “I think that’s Cranky. He’s confused me for my mom before when he’s drunk.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Didn’t think it was important.” She ignored the narrowed stare Garrett sent her.
“Last chance, Kyra,” Earl Harte yelled from the skiff as it motored around the side of the Double Dippin’ where they were hunched down out of sight. “I won’t let you leave me for another man. Not again.”
Garrett motioned for her to stay down as he rose to peek over the side of the boat. He quickly knelt down and whispered in her ear. “I can’t get a bead on him. The skiff’s in the shadow of the hull. Can you talk to him? Draw him closer?”
She nodded, the movement jerky, and wet her lips. “Earl Harte? What the hell are you doing?”
“Don’t antagonize him,” Garrett growled.
“That’s how my mom always talked to him,” she whispered.
“Kyra? You bitch. What’d I tell you would happen if you chose him over me?”
Sonya shrugged her shoulders. He motioned for her to say something else to Earl, but she was at a loss.
“Y-you said I had another chance,” Sonya replied. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) Page 28