Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

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.

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.