know this before he dropped her overboard.
“Yes.”
“Can you swim well?”
“Possibly not while clothed in all of this. Are you sure all this is necessary in order to help you untangle a net?”
“I’m sure.” His reasoning was sound. Protect the skin, protect the hands. Make her look less fetching so he could concentrate on the task at hand.
Wasn’t working, that last one.
He went to Eli’s work computer and redirected a lazy rock playlist through the outside party speakers. He fetched beers for them and tried not to stare as she set it to her lips and took a long pull. She’d ridden here and it was hot.
He’d offer water next.
She walked beside him to the trawler, hat bobbing and flannel flapping, and she listened and followed directions when they started in on the net. He gave her the kind of run down on trawling that his father and grandfather had once given him. The kind he’d always imagined giving his own kids one day.
And if his body lit up whenever she brushed past him or their gloves met, and if her smile came fast and free and she seemed to genuinely enjoy working with him, he did his damnedest to damp down his own enjoyment in favor of appreciating the sun on his back and the capricious breeze drifting in off the ocean.
It didn’t take much to make him happy. Not really. This place, this life, a pretty girl paying attention and a task in hand that he knew how to do. He was always this content.
Okay, maybe not quite this content.
There was just something right about her that soothed him even as it scared him.
* * *
He was even more impressive when he worked, decided Mia as she followed every instruction to the letter and tried not to enjoy being in his presence quite so much. He was beautiful to look at, no question. An extravagance of brown skin wrapped around well-earned muscle, he moved like a man who knew his own strength and exactly what he could do with it. Confidence sat comfortably on him, but he didn’t show off the way she half expected him to. He worked; his mind wholly on the job.
Concentration sat comfortably on him too.
“Talk,” he said finally, once the net was winching smoothly back into place. “You’ve earned it.”
“You do realize you’re this incredible mix of arrogance, protectiveness and Neanderthal, don’t you?”
“Awesome, isn’t it?”
Mia refused to grin. “So who does do what around here?” she asked again, hoping this time he’d be more receptive to her questions.
“You can take those off now,” he said, gesturing towards her gloves.
Provided of course that she could get them off, what with the rubberized tight fit. “I’m on it.”
“If we’re talking officially, Caleb runs the dive boats, I run the fishing boats, and Eli designs boats and runs the marina,” he said. “In practice any one of us can do the diving, the fishing or run the marina, so occasionally we change it up a bit. My father and grandfather are retired—or semi-retired—but they also rotate in and out when needed.”
“A true family business.” She eyed him curiously. “Don’t you fight between yourselves?”
His smile took on a wry slant. “Yes.”
“How do you fix it?”
“There’s three of us. If push comes to shove we push, shove and then we vote. Loser pulls his head in.” He eyed her steadily. “Does Nash like Melbourne?”
“Is this a question for a question? We could play never have I ever next.” The well-worn drinking game was an excellent way to reveal secrets and secure leverage over others.
“You’d lose.”
“You’d enjoy it,” she said.
His eyes crinkled and seemed to lighten. He really had no idea how sweet he was, regardless of all the other traits he possessed. Or maybe he did. “Nash has a good life down in Melbourne. A good business and a loyal crew.”
“Does he have a woman?”
Mia shrugged. “Nothing serious.”
“That you know of.”
“I’d know.”
“Do you know what he wants from
“Yes.”
“Can you swim well?”
“Possibly not while clothed in all of this. Are you sure all this is necessary in order to help you untangle a net?”
“I’m sure.” His reasoning was sound. Protect the skin, protect the hands. Make her look less fetching so he could concentrate on the task at hand.
Wasn’t working, that last one.
He went to Eli’s work computer and redirected a lazy rock playlist through the outside party speakers. He fetched beers for them and tried not to stare as she set it to her lips and took a long pull. She’d ridden here and it was hot.
He’d offer water next.
She walked beside him to the trawler, hat bobbing and flannel flapping, and she listened and followed directions when they started in on the net. He gave her the kind of run down on trawling that his father and grandfather had once given him. The kind he’d always imagined giving his own kids one day.
And if his body lit up whenever she brushed past him or their gloves met, and if her smile came fast and free and she seemed to genuinely enjoy working with him, he did his damnedest to damp down his own enjoyment in favor of appreciating the sun on his back and the capricious breeze drifting in off the ocean.
It didn’t take much to make him happy. Not really. This place, this life, a pretty girl paying attention and a task in hand that he knew how to do. He was always this content.
Okay, maybe not quite this content.
There was just something right about her that soothed him even as it scared him.
* * *
He was even more impressive when he worked, decided Mia as she followed every instruction to the letter and tried not to enjoy being in his presence quite so much. He was beautiful to look at, no question. An extravagance of brown skin wrapped around well-earned muscle, he moved like a man who knew his own strength and exactly what he could do with it. Confidence sat comfortably on him, but he didn’t show off the way she half expected him to. He worked; his mind wholly on the job.
Concentration sat comfortably on him too.
“Talk,” he said finally, once the net was winching smoothly back into place. “You’ve earned it.”
“You do realize you’re this incredible mix of arrogance, protectiveness and Neanderthal, don’t you?”
“Awesome, isn’t it?”
Mia refused to grin. “So who does do what around here?” she asked again, hoping this time he’d be more receptive to her questions.
“You can take those off now,” he said, gesturing towards her gloves.
Provided of course that she could get them off, what with the rubberized tight fit. “I’m on it.”
“If we’re talking officially, Caleb runs the dive boats, I run the fishing boats, and Eli designs boats and runs the marina,” he said. “In practice any one of us can do the diving, the fishing or run the marina, so occasionally we change it up a bit. My father and grandfather are retired—or semi-retired—but they also rotate in and out when needed.”
“A true family business.” She eyed him curiously. “Don’t you fight between yourselves?”
His smile took on a wry slant. “Yes.”
“How do you fix it?”
“There’s three of us. If push comes to shove we push, shove and then we vote. Loser pulls his head in.” He eyed her steadily. “Does Nash like Melbourne?”
“Is this a question for a question? We could play never have I ever next.” The well-worn drinking game was an excellent way to reveal secrets and secure leverage over others.
“You’d lose.”
“You’d enjoy it,” she said.
His eyes crinkled and seemed to lighten. He really had no idea how sweet he was, regardless of all the other traits he possessed. Or maybe he did. “Nash has a good life down in Melbourne. A good business and a loyal crew.”
“Does he have a woman?”
Mia shrugged. “Nothing serious.”
“That you know of.”
“I’d know.”
“Do you know what he wants from
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