“Well, hell.” Adam slapped a hand down on the railing. “I did a summer cod haul with him a few years ago. A damn nice guy. Do you know if he made it off?”
Nathan shook his head, wishing he could have told him all the men made it off alive.
“How many survived?” Adam asked.
“Only two. Listen, I know you’re exhausted, but can you do me a favor and take the helm for a few minutes?”
“Sure. Why?”
“I want to check on Brooke. She sat up here listening to everything go down, then she got up and left. I want to make sure she’s okay.”
Adam walked up behind him. “Go ahead. I’ll survive on ten minutes less sleep.”
Grateful for Adam’s understanding nature, Nathan headed for the steps. “I’ll give you ten minutes more than the rest of the guys when I get them up in a few hours.”
He hit the bottom step and spotted the closed door. The right thing to do would be to knock first. Besides the respect issue at hand, she might be uncomfortable with him barging in. He paused, raised a hand to knock, then changed his mind. Despite her issues, it was his boat and if he wanted to go into his cabin, he would. Besides, if she were awake, he doubted she’d answer him anyway, and if she were sleeping, he’d simply turn around and walk back out. No harm done.
He turned the handle and entered, spotting her lying on the bunk with her back to him. “Brooke?”
She flinched, giving away the fact she was awake.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, her voice muffled by the covers she used to hide her head.
“If that’s true, then sit up and look at me.”
A shuffle of covers resulted in her turning her head. Red puffy eyes stared up at him, confirming what he’d already suspected.
Smiling softly, he eased down onto the bunk next to her. “You don’t look like you’re okay.”
She shook her head. “I can’t deny I was upset, but I’m okay now. I just needed some time to work through it.”
He slipped a hand over hers. “Such a tough outer shell you have. You’re so desperate to put on the façade of a cool, controlled person. Yet underneath, you really are a wounded soul.” He let go of her fingers and raised a hand to graze a knuckle over her cheek. “Aren’t you, honey?”
Her breathing hitched on a hiccup, and she stared up at him with those hurt-filled eyes. The pain they radiated struck him at his core and chipped away at his own barriers. Even if her circumstances were vastly different from his, she still knew what it felt like to suffer and to endure the pain.
“Those men were somebody’s sons, husbands and fathers and now they’re gone. It seems so cruel.”
“Life is cruel, sweetheart. I know you understand that fact.”
She glanced down. “That doesn’t mean it always has to be that way.”
“You’re right, but holding people at arm’s length in order to keep the pain at bay isn’t the way to make that happen.”
“I…” She started to speak, then closed her mouth.
“You don’t want to let anyone in for fear of getting hurt again.” He leaned toward her, all the while swearing to himself he wouldn’t do what he was about to. She wasn’t in any condition to handle the pressure a kiss would bring, yet he couldn’t stop himself. Something deep inside nagged at him, urging him to find out if she would pull away. “I know that fear, baby. I know it better than you might think.”
He curled a finger beneath her chin, and she looked up, her sad eyes centering on him before drifting closed as he brushed a gentle kiss over her lips. When was the last time, he wondered, that she’d allowed a man to get this close? Even this slight amount of contact caused her to shudder beneath his touch. Her tremors reverberated through his body to mix with his own. She didn’t pull away as he had expected her to do, instead remaining in place. If nothing else, he considered it a beginning, something they could slowly build on. Satisfied with the result, he pulled away and moved his hand to rest atop hers. “I also know at some point you have to trust people again and try to move on.”
“I’m not sure I can,” she murmured.
“You just did,” he replied before releasing his hold on her. He stood and headed for the door. She would no doubt need some time to deal with everything, and he needed to get back to the helm. “I know it won’t be easy for you and it’s going to take some time, but just know”—he rested a hand on the door—“I have all the time in the world.”
He left the room and immediately headed back into the wheelhouse shaking his head. The long hours with no sleep were starting to get to him. That had to be the reason why he would do something as stupid as kissing her. She wasn’t ready for anything that even resembled a relationship and, if he were being honest with himself, neither was he.
CHAPTER 8
The smell of bleach drifted up the wheelhouse steps and slowly permeated the cabin. Nathan glanced over at the steps leading down below. What in the hell was she doing down there? He didn’t have to wait long for the answer because a few minutes later she appeared on the wheelhouse steps. “Hey.”
“Hey. What are you doing? Everything smells like disinfectant.”
“Oh, I finally managed to scrub that disgusting bathroom from top to bottom. Now I won’t feel totally grossed out when I take a shower.”
“You cleaned the bathroom?”
“I said I was going to. Did you know the bottom of the shower stall was actually white?”
Nathan suppressed the need to smile at her dig. “I know the bathroom wasn’t the cleanest, but the men are exhausted and hungry when they come in off deck. I’m not going to make them spend what little time they have to sleep cleaning.”
“I know.” She bit down on her bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she knew how damn sexy she looked when she did that.
Sexy? He gave himself a mental smack and worked to rein in his wayward libido. Now wasn’t the time or place for such thoughts. Trying to keep his mind on work, he continued with the topic at hand. “Listen, even if it doesn’t sound like it, I do appreciate all the hard work you’re doing. I’m sure the crew will, too. Speaking of which, I’m going to let them come in to sleep and eat in about an hour. Do you think you can have something whipped up for them?”
She smiled. “You bet.” Brooke turned to head down the steps, then paused. “Would you mind if I played some music?”
“Why would I mind?”
“Well, the guys told me about superstitions and such, and I didn’t want to do anything that might screw up your mojo.”
Nathan let out a laugh. “Honey, my mojo has been screwed up for years. Go ahead and play your music. Maybe it’ll bring us some good luck.”
An hour later, he descended the steps into a wash of country music and stopped to watch Brooke work in the galley. She sang along while Sugarland played through an iPod and speakers.
The song was slow and sad. Amazed by the wonderful voice she’d kept hidden away until now, he remained in place. Would she quit singing if she knew he was listening? That would be such a shame, considering how much she seemed to be enjoying herself. With her back to him, she moved food from the stove to a plate, all the while swaying her head back and forth with the music.
The song changed to something more upbeat just as the men arrived from outside. Varying voices and sounds mixed with the music playing while the men stripped their outer gear creating a chaotic blend of noises. Arguing with Zach over a lost bet, Kyle stopped mid sentence and sniffed. “It smells good in here.”
Zach elbowed him out of the way. “Of course it does you idiot. Brooke’s been cooking.”
“No.” Kyle shook his head. “It’s more than just the food. It smells…clean.”
The smile that engulfed Brooke’s face as she sat the plate of burgers on the table was something Nathan knew he’d never forget. Despite being tired and hungry, his men had noticed her hard work.
“That’s bec
ause I’ve been cleaning,” she replied as she headed back to the galley to retrieve the rest of the food.
Zach snagged her by the arm and pulled her into a quick dance. “Do you dance as well as you clean and cook?” Zach asked, twirling her in a circle before pulling her against him.
The sudden surge of emotion that coursed through Nathan was one he hadn’t expected and didn’t like one little bit. It was stupid to be jealous of Zach when the man hadn’t done anything. Yet, he couldn’t shake the urge to put him through a wall for touching her. Trying to rid himself of the green-eyed monster, he shook his head. It wasn’t Zach’s fault he was too chicken to confess his feelings to Brooke. Not that she would have been ready to hear them even if he did.
“Aren’t you tired?” she teased, obviously playing along.
“Exhausted,” Zach replied.
“Then where are you finding the energy to dance with me?”
“Ever heard of a second wind, darlin’? Well, I’m well beyond my second wind and so tired I’m punchy.” He yanked her against his chest, holding her tight, and Nathan’s temper flare yet again.
“What do you say, Brooke? How about you and me run away together and leave these bums behind?”
The fine hairs on Nathan’s neck stood on end. Brooke wasn’t one who took well to that type of playing around and he feared Zach was about to erase all the comfort she’d gained over the last few days.
Looking thoughtful, Brooke pursed her lips, then grinned. “You smell like dead fish.”
Zach released her and shot Kyle a seditious glance. “That would be because I lost a bet with some asshole over who could bait a pot faster and had to do bait for the last string.”
“Then I suggest you grab a shower and I’ll keep a plate warm for you.”
He laughed. “That bad, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I’ll get a shower, but don’t let Kyle eat everything. He’s got two hollow legs, you know.”
Brooke laughed and turned back toward the table. Her gaze met Nathan’s and, for a moment, something flickered in her eyes before disappearing beneath a cautious haze. “I was wondering if you were coming down to eat.”
Despite being thrilled how at ease she seemed to be with the crew, he couldn’t help be take exception to her cautious attitude with him. But then Zach hadn’t been the one who’d kissed her the other day, when she was vulnerable. Nathan forced a smile and filed his thoughts away for later scrutiny. “Of course I was. I’m starving and no way would I miss out on your cooking.”
He stepped down off the bottom riser and crossed to the table while she continued to eye him with some caution. “How long were you standing there?”
He dropped a gentle hand on her shoulder, careful not to do more and make the situation worse. “Long enough to see my crew make me proud by noticing all your hard work.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she’d uttered a word Zach’s shocked voice filtered out from the bathroom. “Holy shit, guys, Brooke bleached the bathroom. It’s actually clean in here.”
Knowing any concerns he’d had about the men taking to Brooke had just been erased, Nathan grinned and changed the subject. “So what did you make to eat?”
* * *
Brooke puttered around the galley, cleaning up the last of the dinner dishes while the men headed out to pull the last string of pots before their first scheduled off load. A week had passed since Nathan had kissed her, yet she swore she could still feel the warmth of his soft lips against hers. It bothered her, more than it should have, that she’d spent so much time analyzing the moment.
While the overwhelming urge to feel his arms around her, to absorb the comfort and strength he offered, pushed her forward, she couldn’t quite shake her fear. Nathan would never intentionally hurt her, but what about unintentionally? Could she manage the pain if things didn’t work out between them and he left her? Rolling her eyes toward the ceiling, she gave herself a mental smack. How presumptuous of her to have them in a relationship when she wasn’t all that sure of his objective.
Her gaze shifted to the wheelhouse steps. The fact she even considered a relationship with him both gave her hope and scared the hell out of her. Men invariably, when you let them get too close, ended up causing nothing but pain. No matter how much she liked Nathan, she couldn’t let that happen.
She would have preferred to stay away from him until her feelings faded, but there wasn’t much room for keeping a safe distance on the one-hundred-thirty-foot floating island they called Northern Lights. Her only option was to face situation head on.
Gathering up her courage, she grabbed a clean cup and poured the black gold into it. Then she turned and headed topside. With them due at the processors within the next forty-eight hours, she needed to decide if she was going to stay on board for the rest of the season or go back to Seattle and the capable hands of the Seattle PD.
The second half of her thought left a nasty taste in her mouth. Hadn’t she come with Nathan and his crew in order to avoid landing in police protection? Even facing her feelings for Nathan was still better than spending days, possibly weeks, locked away from all human contact.
She stepped into the wheelhouse, weaved her way over to the helm and carefully set his cup down. The metronome beating of her heart pounded in her ears as she tried to formulate an opening. What exactly was she supposed to say to him? I like you, but stay the hell away from me? Plus, she had a feeling no matter what she said, Nathan would probably ignore her.
Chickening out, she turned to go and spotted a four-by-six photograph taped to the corner of the window. It was of a pretty brunette with long, straight hair and brown eyes. A little boy stood next to her wearing a large, toothy smile. A man who looked a lot like Nathan stood behind her holding a second boy who couldn’t have been more than a year old. The tattered edges of the photo were taped and worn, and the color had begun to fade with time.
Brooke frowned. Willow had never mention anything about Nathan being married and, for the life of her, Brooke couldn’t remember a single time where he’d come to an event with a women or children in tow. She glanced down at his hand and noted the absence of a wedding ring.
Curiosity scratched its way to the surface until she couldn’t help but ask about the photo. “What a beautiful family.”
He remained silent.
“Yours?”
“At one time.”
At one time? What did that mean?
“It looks like it was a few years ago. How old were you?”
“Twenty-six.”
“I didn’t know you were married.”
“I’m not.”
Her frowned deepened and she quirked a brow. “But that’s you in the picture, right?”
“Yes.” He didn’t offer up any more information, and Brooke decided that maybe it was best not to push any further.
She took his empty cup and turned to head down to the galley.
Her foot was on the top riser when he spoke. “The woman is my wife, Casey, and the kids are our two boys, Ryan and Gregory.”
Wife? Kids? “Willow never mentioned you were married.”
“Probably because Adam told her not to talk about it.”
“Oh, okay.” Each answer seemed more cryptic than the last and only made her more curious. “So how old are your boys now?”
“They would have been twelve and fourteen this year.”
Would have been? She shifted her gaze to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
He shook his head. “There’s no way you could have.”
“What happened to them, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Carbon monoxide poisoning.” The pain in his voice struck deep in her soul.
Her heart softened just a little more. She couldn’t imagine losing her entire family, especially when it involved children. “Oh, how awful. How long ago?”
“It will be eleven years this January. Actually…” He glanced at the photo. “It wasn’t too l
ong after this picture was taken. We’d just had a new furnace installed after Christmas. When they put it in, they didn’t hook something up correctly. A week after I left for opilio season, I got a phone call informing me that something had happened to my family and I needed to come home right away.” His voice shook on the last word and he paused, obviously trying to get a grip before he continued.
His pain flowed through the wheelhouse and washed over her. All these years later he was still grieving, yet Brooke couldn’t help but think how he’d continued on, living his life despite the pain. The need to be close to him, to offer what little comfort she could, pushed Brooke to cross through the wheelhouse. She stopped behind him and placed a soft hand on his shoulder.
He covered her hand with his own, then drew in a deep breath and began again. “They wouldn’t tell me what had happened, or even if they were all right until I got back to Seattle.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I appreciate the sentiment. It was a long time ago, though, and I’ve learned to deal with it.”
“Even so, it must still be painful for you to look at their picture and wonder about all of the what-could-have-beens.”
He nodded. “I won’t deny that some days it’s rough. Other days, though, especially when it seems as though the sea is going to swallow us whole, it can be extremely comforting.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
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