Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

job,” Garrett blurted out.
    “Excuse me?” Those sinful eyes clouded with confusion as she sat up straighter.
    “I can’t sleep. You’re in my head, my blood. I would have taken on Kendrick if Judd hadn’t been there to pull me back. I can’t focus. Making love with you is only going to make that worse.”
    “You don’t think working each other out of our systems would do the trick?” She adjusted the clothing he’d just had his hands under.
    “As much as I like your reasoning, no, I don’t.” When he finally slept with her, he’d be an addict for sure. That thought alone scared the shit out of him and had him stepping farther back in the confined space. Sonya wasn’t the kind of woman he usually hooked up with. There was nothing casual about her. A relationship with her would have expectations. She’d have expectations. She wouldn’t be content to let him come and go. She’d demand a commitment. Maybe even one that required a ring.
    He broke out in a sweat. He was not marriage material. He wouldn’t do that to a woman, especially this one. Not when he already cared about her far too much.
    “Let me get this straight.” She narrowed her eyes and shook her head as though needing to clear her thoughts also. “A no-strings-attached affair is too much for you?”
    “Don’t kid yourself on the no-strings part.” He already felt the pull where she was concerned. The more run-ins like this, the tighter those strings wove together. Her eyes hardened with resolve.
    Was he the only one who felt this way?
    “I think it’s time for you to go.” Her frosty tone spoke volumes.
    “Sonya—”
    “No.” She indicated the door not a few feet away. “I think you can find your way out.”
    Just then footsteps scuffled as someone boarded the boat.
    “That will be Peter.” Sonya folded her arms across her chest. “He sure took long enough.”
    The door flew open. “It’s raining like—Oh…hi, Garrett.” Peter stood in the doorway holding a pizza box from the Pitt, rain splattered on the hood and shoulders of his raingear. “Sorry, Sonya, no ice cream. Davida laughed when I asked if she had any. So I brought you a few candy bars.” He held up a bag full of at least a dozen or more. He glanced at Garrett and then to Sonya, obviously feeling the thick tension in the small room. “Everything okay?”
    “Everything’s fine. Garrett was just leaving.” She turned to Garrett and raised a brow. “Weren’t you?”
    “Yes, I was.” He gazed at Sonya, knowing he should say something to fix the mess he’d made of things, but knew whatever he said would make the situation worse. He reached down, picked up the rain jacket Sonya had stripped him out of, and ignored Peter’s interested gaze. At the door, he turned. “I’d feel better if you were anchored in front of your camp. Tied up here at the docks, it’s like putting a goldfish in a tank of piranhas.”
    “Garrett,” Sonya said, “I’m no goldfish.”

C HAPTER N INETEEN
    Man, she was tired. Sore, cold, bone-dead tired. She and Peter had just finished picking and pulling the nets at the set net sites. If she ever got through this eternally long line of bobbing skiffs, loaded down with fish, waiting to tender, then she could sleep.
    They moved up the line. The Time Bandit sat in the channel of the river, large and towering above them. Floating in her shadow, made Sonya feel small and insignificant. Peter sat quietly in the bow. He was tired too. She saw it in the hunching of his shoulders. Was she asking too much of him, of her crew? They hadn’t complained, and every night Peter was figuring out his percentage of the take. Money had a way of keeping people working past their stopping point. Next year, she’d better hire another crewman to help with the workload.
    Aidan did have a point, she had to concede. He’d told her she didn’t have enough crew. They’d make it through this year, but next she’d have to make some changes.
    “Finally,” Peter said as it was their turn to tender. “How long have we been waiting?”
    “Too long.” She motored the skiff alongside the tender. Peter grabbed the painter’s line and tied a quick clove hitch, securing the bow to the Time Bandit. She did the same in the stern and then killed the engine. It was the only engine currently running. She’d tried to talk to Gramps again about buying a new one to replace the drowned engine, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Until he had the water-logged one