Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) (41 page)

“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.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
F
OUR

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 hung 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, feel 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.

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.

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