Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

to be lowered. The sooner she finished unloading her catch, the sooner she could get back to camp. Then she’d make sure every hair on Peter’s head was okay.

    “I don’t know how I can ever thank you, Aidan.” Sonya had returned to camp to find Grams mothering Peter with cookies and hot chocolate, and Gramps mummifying him with blankets as her brother regaled them with the telling of his impromptu swim. He had a bruise darkening the side of his face where the brailer had hit him. He was lucky that he didn’t have a concussion. The brailer had been seven hundred pounds heavy with salmon. If he’d been knocked unconscious when he’d hit the water—
    She couldn’t go there. Sonya swallowed the cocktail of panic and tears she’d been fighting all afternoon and tried to put forth a calm front. Aidan brushed the side of her arm, stealing her attention.
    “Walk with me?” His eyes beseeched her to agree.
    She nodded and let him escort her outside. She could use some air.
    They walked for a bit in the tall grass behind the cabins, to where the ground leveled onto the flat lying tundra. Yellow buttercups bloomed over the thick, spongy ground, while bees buzzed in a frenzied attempt to gather nectar before the end of the short summer. The breeze blew enough to keep the mosquitoes and gnats from bothering them.
    “Are you all right?” Aidan asked.
    “I will be.” She tried for a reassuring smile, gave up and hugged her arms around her middle instead, ignoring the slight pull of the stitches in her shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did today, Aidan.”
    “I didn’t do more than what anyone else would have done if they’d been in my position.”
    Sonya disagreed. If it had been someone like Chuck Kendrick there instead of Aidan…
    She was ashamed that she hadn’t acted quicker herself. She’d frozen like ice at seeing her brother fight for his life as the nightmare of the past faded over the present.
    Aidan brushed the side of her uninjured cheek with his fingers, bringing her back from seeing Peter struggling in the cold, deadly water.
    “Hey, it’s okay. Peter’s fine.” When she didn’t move away he slowly wrapped his arms around her. He rubbed her back, being careful not to touch around the healing cut on her shoulder, and spoke soothing words until her breaths grew even.
    It felt good to be back in his arms. Comfortable. She’d missed him, or at least missed what could have been. She let her head rest against the space where his neck met his shoulder, not caring that the action knocked her ball cap to the ground. She breathed in his scent of dark sea breezes and stormy skies. She used to love curling into him and having his strong arms wrap around her, like she was the most cherished thing he’d ever beheld.
    “Sonya,” Aidan said her name on a groan, his lips brushing against the side of her neck.
    Encouraging Aidan was wrong. No matter how good it felt to be held by him again, she had to stop this. She’d thought she’d shut the lid on her feelings for him. She guessed some had slipped out when she hadn’t been looking.
    “Aidan—”
    “Sweetheart, don’t push me away.” Aidan tightened his arms around her, his grasp desperate. “Just let me hold you.”
    “I can’t do this, Aidan.” Her throat thickened with trepidation. Or was it regret? She wasn’t sure. “Please, let me go.”
    Aidan breathed deep, and for a moment, she feared he wouldn’t release her. He stepped back, still grasping her upper arms in his calloused palms, his grip loose, being careful with the still-tender cuts on her arm.
    “I’ve changed, Sonya.” His dark eyes bore into hers, as though pleading with her to believe him. “You don’t have to be afraid of me anymore.”
    She saw remorse, longing, and sincerity. Could he have changed? If so, was she willing to risk it?
    “Heard you had some more trouble.” Garrett’s voice—hard and sharp—cut through her musings.
    Sonya jerked in Aidan’s embrace, seeing Garrett over Aidan’s shoulder. She immediately took in the uniform, the shades hiding his ice-blue eyes, and the gun at his side—his hand resting right next to the butt of the handle. Without a doubt he didn’t like Aidan’s hands on her or the situation he’d come upon.
    She stepped away from Aidan, who’d stiffened when Garrett had interrupted them, his hands falling away from her. Personally, she was glad for the interruption. She felt like fog had rolled in over