Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) (16 page)

Damn it, she needed to concentrate. This was hazardous stuff she was driving through. Sonya wrinkled her nose as the acrid smell of burning mud, splattering on the muffler, suffused the air.

“The rack’s not nearly as nice to hang onto as you,” Garrett said, bringing her attention back to him and the incredibly sexy way he nuzzled her neck.

“Garrett,” she growled his name and tightened her hold on the handle bars. Her neck tingled where his five o’clock shadow lightly scraped against her skin. It didn’t take long for that tingle to ignite others farther south in her body.

“Have I told you that when you get upset, it’s sexier than hell?”

“Will you shut up so I can pay attention?” The mud grabbed at her wheels again and this time she had to let up on the gas so the tires didn’t dig in. She stood, straddled over the seat, and rocked the ATV, keeping steady on the throttle, until it worked free.

After she regained her seat, Garrett’s hands stroked up her sides, flirting with the undersides of her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat. “Garrett,” she warned.

“Drive, Sonya. Don’t worry about what I’m doing.”

She sucked in a much needed breath. “All I can think about is what you are doing.”

“You’re too wound up. A good massage would do wonders for you.”

“Are you volunteering to give me one?” Now why did she go and ask that? Didn’t she have enough problems at the moment?

“Anytime.”

She slowed the 4-wheeler as they reached the skiff and parked it behind Peter’s. She sat there stunned. “We actually made it without getting stuck.” It was a first for her.

Garrett leaned in and stole a kiss alongside her neck as he got off the 4-wheeler. “You handled the mud like a pro, Sonya.”

Who was the pro, she wondered. “You irritated me on purpose,” she accused.

He crooked a smile, his icy-blue eyes full of fun and fire. “Be honest, babe, the last thing you were feeling was irritated.” Then he sauntered through the mud as though it was packed sand toward the skiff.

For the first time that day, she felt like laughing. Irritated
was
the last emotion she felt in regard to Garrett.

Hot and bothered came to mind.

Sonya tucked her scattered feelings away and dismounted the 4-wheeler, holding onto her machine, and then Peter’s until she made it to the skiff. She wasn’t taking any chances of putting her full weight on the mud.

Garrett had jumped into the skiff, having already told Gramps and Peter he needed to be the first to board the boat. Gramps and Peter waited, looking over the side. She joined them, after transferring her hold from the ATVs to the edge of the skiff.

“Got an extra plug?” Garrett asked, investigating the stern. “Looks like whoever did this, helped themselves to yours,”

“Yeah, I brought one.” Gramps pulled the plug out of his pocket and handed it to Garrett who screwed it into the bottom of the boat. “Figured if I wanted to sink a skiff, that’s how I’d do it.”

Sonya mentally kicked herself. She should have been the one who remembered to bring a plug. She probably would have if Garrett weren’t occupying so much of her thoughts.

Garrett investigated the rest of the boat. “Whatever evidence the guy left behind, the ocean took care of it.” He still scrutinized every inch of the skiff, taking his time to examine the dry holds. Then he removed the top cover of the engine. “Someone’s had fun with duct tape here.” He fingered one of the many tape-wrapped parts.

“That’d be me,” Gramps said. “That engine’s lasted us a long time.”

“Time to bury it,” Sonya muttered.

At least something good might come of the boat sinking. They could finally replace the relic with a new, more dependable model.

Gramps arched his brows in a challenge. “Just you watch, young lady. I’ll get that engine up and running again.”

Crap. She was afraid of that. Gramps would try to get milk from a bull if he was challenged enough.

The men unbolted the outboard from the stern and strong-armed it into the trailer. Peter double-checked the painter line’s knot tied to the running line and they all bailed out the leftover water. Then they returned to the 4-wheelers.

Sonya followed, glad there wasn’t any damage to the skiff other than the engine. They did lose two brailer bags and a few fish picks, but the skiff seemed in good shape. It could have been worse.

“Looks like whoever is doing this just wants to cause you problems.” Garrett’s thoughts must have been running along the same vein as hers. “They could have damaged the skiff to where you couldn’t use it for the rest of the season.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Peter asked, mounting the 4-wheeler. Gramps climbed on behind him.

“Other than writing up a damage report and being vigilant, there isn’t much to go on.”

“That’s what I figured.” Sonya gave Peter and Gramps a pointed look that clearly said they hadn’t needed to call in a fish cop.

“It was still smart to contact me.” Garrett eyed Sonya with his trooper stare. “If anything else happens, we need a paper trail to prosecute.”

“Paper trail,” Peter repeated with a smirk at Sonya. “What’d I tell you?”

She decided it was best to ignore everyone and concentrate on getting back to the 4-wheeler without being sucked down into the mud.

Too late.

She knew it. Every damn time.

She worked her foot back and forth, trying to free it from the sucking sludge. She breathed a sigh of relief as she freed one foot and took a step, coming up fast when the mud refused to release her other. She tried not to panic as the mud seized her farther into its grip.

“You really do have a problem with this mud.” Garrett walked over to her and took hold of her arm.

“I’ve said it before, the mud’s out to reclaim me.” Leaning on Garrett, she pulled her back foot free only to find the front one had settled in the mud enough to anchor it.

“It’s all in your head, Sonya,” Peter said. “Mind over matter. You think you’re going to get stuck, therefore you do.”

“Shut up, will you.” Frustration ate at her. She hated feeling at the mercy of anything, let alone mud that everyone in her family, even Garrett, seemed to conquer.

“Just saying.”

“Well, say it where I don’t have to hear it.”

“Sonya.” Garrett grabbed her attention. “Place your boot into the mud heel first, and then kind of slide, like you’re wearing snow shoes.”

Pulling on Garrett, she freed another foot and tried what he suggested. She made a few feet of progress, until she heard another 4-wheeler join the party.

Aidan stood astride his ATV heading their way.

This was going to top off her shitty day, Sonya thought, as the mud reached up and gripped her feet tight again.

Aidan cut the engine to his 4-wheeler, and leaned forward to rest his arms on the handle bars. “Having trouble?” He eyed Garrett as though he was the actual trouble. Garrett met Aidan’s stare with his glacial blue gaze. It was icy enough to give
her
chills.

Great, Sonya thought.

“Someone removed the plug from the skiff,” Garrett said.

Aidan looked at Sonya and then Peter and Gramps. His confusion seemed genuine, but was it?

“You can’t mean
intentionally
removed the plug?” He straightened as he glanced back to Peter. “Are you sure someone didn’t forget to put it back in after cleaning out the fish slime?”

“Hey!” Peter stood while straddled over the ATV’s seat. “I did not forget to screw in the plug. I made sure it was in place when I finished draining the skiff after I tendered. That’s a rookie mistake.
I am no rookie.
”

Sonya couldn’t blame Aidan for jumping to that conclusion. It was the direction her thoughts had first traveled. “Aidan didn’t mean anything by it, Peter. He was just following the same line of questions we all have.”

Peter swung his mad gaze her way. “You think I did this?”

“No. I know you didn’t. I wish you
had
left the plug out, because it sure as hell beats the alternative.” Without a doubt, she knew Peter didn’t have a hand in the boat sinking. She wasn’t as sure about the man right in front of her. Hadn’t Aidan warned her that she’d have trouble this summer?

Peter’s stance relaxed somewhat. He looked at everyone in turn, settling on Garrett. “We need to find this guy.”

“I plan on it.” Garrett’s statement invited complete confidence that he’d do exactly that.

“You brought in a fish cop?” Aidan pointed his gaze at Sonya.

“Trooper.” Garrett’s tone seemed to beg Aidan to say something else derogatory.

“Aidan,” Sonya interjected before things got any messier, “this isn’t helping.”

He seemed to get his ire under control. “What can I do to help?”

“Not much at this point,” Sonya said, “other than keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.”

“You seem to have a good view of the Savonski’s skiffs from your camp,” Garrett said. “Did you see anything this morning?”

“No,” Aidan said. “I haven’t seen anything, but then I spent most of the morning catching up on sleep. I’ll keep a watch out now that I know you’ve had trouble.” His gaze landed on her. “You should have come to me first, Sonya.”

She turned away, uncomfortable with his wounded expression. No matter their history, she didn’t like him hurting.

“Kids,” Gramps joined the conversation. “The tide’s headed back in. We’d better make for the beach. Peter, let’s get this 4-wheeler moving. I have no plans to get wet.”

Sonya glanced over her shoulder and gauged the water. It was headed in fast. The tide in Bristol Bay went out in a rush, and returned with a vengeance. One minute you couldn’t see the water, and then it chewed hungrily at your feet.

“Got it, Gramps.” Peter started the 4-wheeler, but addressed Sonya before he engaged the gear. “Are you going to be okay getting back to camp?”

Meaning, was she going to be able to get out of the mud? It did warm her heart that her usually infuriating baby brother was concerned over her well-being. “Thanks, Peter. We’ll be right behind you.”

With a wave, Peter turned the ATV and headed back to camp with Gramps and the outboard engine.

Sonya tried to lift her feet.
Stuck
. She glanced behind her to the tide eating up the distance. Don’t panic. Deep breaths. Everything would be fine, she mentally chanted.

“You really are mud-impaired, aren’t you?” Garrett trudged back to where she wasn’t gaining any ground.

“Everyone’s got to have one weakness,” she muttered.
She should be able to do this, damn it.

“You have more than one weakness, Sonya,” Garrett murmured, giving her a smile that brought to mind what she’d wanted to do with him earlier. Then he swung her up into his arms. A surprised sound escaped her, followed immediately by a squeal of alarm as Garrett stumbled, the mud grabbing thick at his feet. “Don’t move,” he warned, straining to regain his balance, while at the same time pulling free of the mud.

She tightened her arms around his neck and held herself very still. “Don’t you dare drop me.”

“Babe, you go down, I go down.”

He worked free of the mud, and then fought his way toward the 4-wheeler. Just like any red-blooded woman, she was impressed with the muscle Garrett exhibited as he went all He-Man, carrying her to the safety of her 4-wheeler mount. Sonya tried not to worry about the water coming in like a flood. They needed to move faster, but there was no hurrying through the gelatinous goo. Finally, they reached the 4-wheeler and Garrett set her down on the seat, swiping at his sweaty brow with his arm.

“Next time, let’s find a more enjoyable strenuous activity to do together.” There was no doubt in her mind to what he was referring to.

Sonya felt the prick of Aidan’s glare. She glanced over Garrett’s shoulder. Aidan sat like granite astride his ATV. She’d forgotten he was still there. Watching. She flushed hot and then cold.

Aidan’s dark eyes were fevered with jealousy.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Garrett,” Grams said as she finished filleting a salmon on the bank of the creek below the cabin.

Sonya stood behind Garrett, and shook her head no, but Grams continued even though Sonya knew she’d seen her. “We’re having teriyaki salmon with rice, and I’ve made a yummy lemon cake for dessert.”

Gramps and Peter had gone in search of a fifty-gallon drum they could submerge the outboard engine in, hoping to clean out the saltwater. Sonya wished Gramps would just let the engine die.

“Lemon cake?” Garrett swallowed as though dessert had been awhile.

“Yes.” Grams nodded with a smile. “Homemade.”

Garrett groaned. “You don’t play fair. I’ve been living on what amounts to rations since I got here.” He seemed to waver, but then he straightened his shoulders. “Thank you, Mrs. Savonski, but I really need to head back.”