Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

stressed. “Nothing.”
    Garrett grabbed Sonya’s boxed supplies. “Come on, sweetcakes. She’s going to believe what she wants to regardless of what you say.”
    “ Garrett .”
    He winked at Davida. “I love it when she growls my name like that.” He turned and walked out of the General Store without a backward glance, enjoying the frustrated sounds coming from Sonya as she caught up to him.
    “Was that absolutely necessary? Do you have any idea what Davida is going to do with that remark of yours?”
    “Not as much as she would have with you denying there’s nothing between us. Hell, anyone who gets within a few feet of us can feel the heat.”
    “Oh, I’m feeling heat all right.” Sonya went for the box he carried, but he moved it to the side, out of her reach.
    “Nope, supplies are mine until we’ve had a chance to talk. Pick the place.”
    She growled again. “Fine. Fisherman’s Laundry.”
    He followed her to the public laundry room, which was empty as it was the dinner hour and most were either eating or catching sleep for the 2:00 a.m. drift opening. He set the box down on the large table opposite three washing machines and dryers. “Why aren’t you getting some sleep before the opening in the morning?”
    “Because, I didn’t have any clean clothes or food for the drift boat.” She opened a dryer and pulled out a load of clothes, bringing an armful over to the table. In turn, she emptied the two remaining dryers.
    “All these clothes can’t be yours.” He held up a pair of men’s boxers with black bears on them.
    She grabbed them out of his hands. “It’d be petty of me to only wash my clothes.”
    “You captain the Double Dippin’ , set net, drift, shop for groceries, and do the laundry?”
    “They say a woman’s work is never done.” She grabbed a pair of jeans and began folding.
    “I take it the men are catching some shuteye while you’re doing chores.”
    She folded a t-shirt, and reached for another. “Your point?”
    “Why isn’t Wes or Peter giving you a hand?”
    “Wes has a headache, concussion remember, and Peter’s with Lana, living it up after his swim yesterday.”
    “You still have stitches that aren’t healed.” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice.
    She slowed the folding of a sweatshirt. “Garrett, what would you do in my position?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “You’d carry on. Which is what I’m doing.” She placed the sweatshirt in a growing pile and grabbed another. “I’d rather be busy then laying on my bunk, worrying.”
    He tucked away his anger and grabbed a t-shirt. He understood. Staying busy kept you from going crazy. “I need you to tell me about what happened the night the Mystic sank.”
    She jerked a pair of pants inside-out. If she wasn’t careful she’d tear through the seams. “Why? There isn’t more I can tell you that your buddies didn’t.”
    “Sonya.” He reached over and stilled her hands. Her eyes flicked to his and he saw anger, remembered-fear, and anguish before she glanced away. “Tell me.”
    She tore her hands free of his grasp, dropped the jeans, and stalked to the laundry machines and back. She folded her arms across her chest, and faced him. “Do you know that I can’t get into the water? Every day I’m on that ocean and I’m petrified if I get more than ankle deep in it.” She slid her eyes away from him and gazed at nothing. “I can’t even swim in a heated pool without having an panic attack.”
    He didn’t try to placate her with words that he understood. He didn’t. He’d lost friends in battle, men he considered brothers, but he’d been trained to accept it, to expect it. Besides, he loved everything about being in the water.
    “I felt Sasha die,” she whispered. The tone of her voice caused his heart to ache. “Losing my parents was devastating, but Sasha was part of me. For the longest time, I couldn’t go on without her. I still feel like part of me is missing.”
    He wanted to embrace her, shelter her from the questions he needed answers to, but he couldn’t. The more information he had, the better he could protect her.
    “Tell me what happened before the explosion. Where were your parents, your sister?”
    Sonya closed her eyes and swallowed. “Sasha and I were on deck, messing with the survival gear.” Her voice broke, but she worked through it. She returned to the pile of laundry, picked up a shirt, and began the monotonous chore of folding. “Dad