Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

Sonya.
    He damn well hoped he had.
    She entered the pilot house, and it was everything he could do not to grab and prove that he was the man for her, not Harte.
    “All right.” She sighed as though bracing for bad news and unzipped her hoodie. “Let me have it. What’s happened now?”
    He took in the black t-shirt that had been hidden under her jacket. A skull with two red salmon in place of crossbones and the words “Spawn ‘Til You Die” blazed across her breasts.
    Ah hell, did she know how to bait. “You’re marrying me,” he blurted out.
    “What?” Her eyes widened.
    He hardened his tone. “You heard me.”
    Her mouth opened and closed, and she actually took a step back. He took one forward. She had nowhere to go. They were anchored, afloat on open water, no getaway skiff tied to the side, no one to interrupt them. She was completely at his mercy.
    Or, if he were to be honest, he was completely at hers.
    “What are you talking about?” she asked, exasperation lacing her voice. “We don’t even know if I’m pregnant.”
    “Pregnant or not, you and I are getting married.” Her eyes narrowed and he got a sneaky suspicion that he might not be handling this right, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was man enough to admit he was scared of losing her. He felt her sifting through his fingers like grains of sand.
    “You aren’t the marrying kind, remember?” she pointed out, saying the words he’d believed about himself.
    “I changed my mind. Quit being so damn stubborn and say you’ll marry me.”
    She folded her arms across her chest and raised her head in challenge. “I haven’t been asked yet.”
    He growled deep in his throat and then clipped out each individual word. “Will. You. Marry. Me?”
    She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “You don’t sound very excited over the prospect.”
    “Damn it, Sonya.” He paused, rubbed a hand over his hair, and then added in a calmer, softer voice, “Marry me. Please.”
    “Why?”
    “ Why? ” What did she want? Blood?
    “Yes.” He thought he saw the corners of her mouth tilt up before she bit her lip. “Why should I marry you?”
    He sputtered. “Because…” He took a breath and met her gaze, realizing he’d have to use what was in his heart as bait in order to hook her. “Because, I’m in love with you.”
    “Well, that’s handy.” She smiled. “Since I’m in love with you too.”
    “Now, you listen to me—” He stopped, suddenly daring to hope. “What did you say?”
    Her eyes brightened as she closed the space between them. “I said that I’m in love with a trooper.”
    She’d actually called him a trooper, not a damn fish cop. “You’re not in love with Harte?”
    “No. But he’s part of my family. You’ll have to deal with that.”
    “I can deal with anything as long as you’re by my side.”
    “What about our occupational differences?” She raised a brow.
    He grinned. “I don’t have a problem with you being a music teacher.”
    “You know that wasn’t what I was talking about. If we marry, what do we do about fishing?”
    “ When we marry, not if . I’ll take my vacation during fishing season. I had fun out there today. But with me as crew, Sonya, you’ll have to toe the line.”
    “I guess if I must,” she grumbled.
    “Was that a yes?” Hope swelled in his heart, making him light-headed.
    “Yes.”
    “Sonya,” he groaned her name, catching her in his arms.
    A shotgun blast pierced the air.
    In a flash, he had her on the floor of the pilot house and his gun palmed. “What the hell now?”
    “Let me up.” Sonya struggled against his hold.
    “Stay down,” he ordered.
    “Gramps, Peter, and Wes are out there,” she said, panic in her voice. She twisted free of his grip and rushed out onto the deck before he could grab hold of her again.
    “Sonya!” He chased after her.

    Sonya’s heart pounded, and blood pulsed in her ears. She came to a stop at the rail as her eyes took in the bewildering scene before her. Garrett grasped her in his arms, ready to pull her down to the deck.
    “Is that what I think it is?” she asked.
    Garrett’s hold lessened, and his arms draped around her, his chin falling to her shoulder in relief. He snorted. “Looks as though your gramps just murdered an engine.”
    Gramps stood with Barbarella cocked to his shoulder. He’d just shot a bullet through the hood of the outboard engine they’d just bolted to the skiff. Smoke drifted from the