Hooked (A Romance on the Edge Novel) (49 page)

She almost said to hell with the risk of being discovered and begged him to take her here, right now. The only thing that kept the words from escaping her mouth was the fact that she hadn’t showered and badly needed to.

“Mind if we pick this up later?” she asked, her eyelids hooded and heavy with the promise of pleasure. “I feel the need to show my appreciation. I know it had to be extremely difficult getting that ice cream out here.”

“It
did
cost me a few favors.”

“Well, then, your efforts must be rewarded.”

“If you insist.” He smiled.

“Oh, I do. I do insist.”

C
HAPTER
F
ORTY-
O
NE

It was late evening when Sonya anchored the
Double Dippin’
in front of camp. She brought the drift boat as close to the beach as she dared in the shallow surf. Peter and Wes waded to shore, leaving her and Garrett to anchor in deeper waters for the night.

Something would be done about the unresolved situation between her and Garrett tonight. If anything, the last twenty-fours had taught her was that time was fleeting, and life was precious. It had also showed her how deeply she loved Garrett.

Before she could make her move, Aidan motored his skiff out to the
Double Dippin’
and asked for permission to come aboard.

“Sonya,” Aidan greeted when he climbed on deck. His tone was low and pensive. “Garrett.” He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets, rounding his shoulders.

“Any word on Roland?” Garrett asked, his feet braced apart, his arms folded over his muscled chest. He looked like a pirate of old, ready to take no prisoners.

“No. No sign of him either. He packed up and left. Didn’t even leave a note for Lana.”

“Have any idea where he would have gone?” Garrett asked.

Aidan shrugged. “Home is in the Yukon, but if he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.”

“Will you be able to fish out the season?” Sonya asked, concerned. With Earl dead, and Roland missing, fishing might be over for Aidan and Lana.

Aidan glanced at Garrett and then addressed Sonya. “Don’t know yet. I called into the Fish and Game this morning. Chances are I’ll be able to get an emergency transfer for Earl’s permit within the next twenty-four hours. We won’t be able to fish Roland’s.”

“Let me know if there is anything we can do,” Sonya said.

“Thanks.” Aidan ran a hand through his hair. “Sonya…can I talk to you for a minute?” He glanced at Garrett. “Alone.”

Garrett’s jaw tightened. “Not a lot of space onboard.”

Sonya laid a hand on his arm and beseeched him with her eyes to give them some time. She knew she’d won when Garrett expelled a deep breath, his lips twisting with a silent curse she knew he wanted to articulate.

“Fine.” He turned and stomped his way up to the pilot house like a two-year-old forced to share his favorite toy and hating every moment of it.

“Sonya.” Aidan brought her attention back to him. “I needed to say how deeply sorry I am for the suffering my family has caused you and your family.” He paused and stared at Garrett, who made no pretense of not watching their exchange from the broken windows of the pilot house. Aidan took Sonya’s arm and led her to the bow. While it didn’t block Garrett’s view, it did limit what he’d hear.

“Aidan.” Sonya waited until his sad eyes met hers. “I don’t blame you for what Cranky and Crafty have done. You aren’t them.”

“Their blood runs through my veins.”

“Yeah, and according to my family tree, Stalin’s blood runs in mine. You choose what kind of man you are to become. It isn’t foreordained because of your bloodline. Don’t let this stop you from becoming the man I know you can be.”

He indicated Garrett, who’d continued to watch them. She could feel his piercing eyes boring into her back.

“You love the fish cop, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

Aidan met her gaze. “I hope he makes you happy.” He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You deserve to be happy, Sonya.”

“So do you, Aidan. There’s a woman out there for you.” She gave a soft laugh. “If we’d stayed together, we would have driven each other crazy, you know.”

“Maybe.” He cleared his throat. “If the cop ever gets out of line, I’d be happy to straighten him out for you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Okay, well…I’ll be going then.”

Sonya reached out a hand to stop him. “Aidan. Listen, you need anything with Roland or the, uh, funeral preparations, you can call on us.”

“Thanks, Sonya.” His eyes seemed suspiciously wet, and he had to clear his throat again. “That means a lot.”

She reached out and hugged him. Aidan crushed her against him and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She rubbed his back until he’d composed himself enough to let her go.

He released her. “I’d better check on Lana. She’s taking Roland’s leaving pretty hard.”

“Let her know we’re here for her too.”

He choked out a laugh. “Peter’s already made that perfectly clear. Who knows, maybe someday we’ll be related because of those two. You are aware that they hit it off this summer?”

She smiled. “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure you knew.”

“I caught them snuggled up together the other day. Guess time will tell if they’re meant to be.” He turned to the rail of the boat and then looked back. “You take care of yourself, Sonya.”

“I will. You do the same, Aidan.”

She watched him motor back to camp and sent up a prayer for what he’d be going through in the months to come. With a father like Earl, life had never been easy for Aidan. Hopefully now, he’d find some peace and happiness.

She rolled her eyes when she caught sight of Gramps, Peter and Wes heading down the beach toward the skiff carrying the resurrected outboard engine. She couldn’t believe they’d actually gotten the thing dug out and cleaned up. Gramps should have let the blasted thing die.

She was smiling when she turned toward the pilot house. It was time to settle things with Garrett, but when she caught sight of him standing there, his eyes frigid, his jaw set, a feeling of dread came over her.

What now?

Garrett figured he’d gotten his answer with the hug Sonya and Aidan had shared. What had he expected? He hadn’t told her he loved her. Hadn’t solidified their relationship. He’d pretty much let her think this was a summer fling. He had no one to blame but himself. He also wasn’t about to give up without a fight either. Damned if he’d lose her to a man whose family had caused her so much pain. Besides, he had one thing going for him that Harte didn’t. Chances were he’d impregnated 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.”