Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

crooked his lips.
    “Same,” she said, “to meet you, that is.” She gave Garrett Hunt a second look. The man wasn’t handsome…more interesting. Tough, muscled, and weathered. He looked like he could hold his own in any situation. Anywhere. Anytime. Chiseled jaw, sharp cheekbones, spiky military haircut, with a scar by his left temple. The only thing soft about him was his lips.
    Dang, she did not need this kind of distraction this summer.
    “Well, how do you like that?” Gramps commented with a hum, breaking Sonya out of her trance and reminding her of where she was. Gramps slapped Garrett on the back. “How about you join us for dinner tomorrow night? Red Fox Camp is about five miles down the beach. Can’t miss it. We should be ready for company by then, don’t ya think, Sonya?”
    “Uh…sure.” Even though she wanted to tell her grandpa to keep his busybody nose out of her business, she couldn’t.
    Garrett gave her that crooked smile again. It was quite sexy on him. “I’d like that.”
    “Hunt!” the pilot of the plane hollered, walking toward them carrying a surfboard. “You have any idea how hard this was to stuff into my plane?”
    “Thanks, Harry,” Garrett said, taking ownership of the board. “I appreciate you making the room.”
    Surfboard?
    “You owe me a drink for it,” Harry said. “I plan on collecting as soon as I get that swarm of fishermen flown over here.”
    “You got it,” Garrett said.
    Harry waved them goodbye and boarded the plane for the return hop to King Salmon. The fishermen were all coming in now that the fishing season would be opening in a few days. In that amount of time, the population went from around a hundred to thousands.
    “What are you going to do with that?” Peter asked, eyeing the surfboard.
    “Catch a wave,” Garret said.
    The man was a nut. Gramps had to stop introducing her to just anyone. She looked at her grandfather and was glad to see that even his brows had risen in question.
    “Why?” Peter asked.
    Yeah, why , Sonya thought.
    “For the thrill of it,” Garrett said with a grin.
    “Nobody gets in that ocean for fun.” Sonya shivered. “You only get in it when you’re forced to.” The memory of the last time she’d been in that deadly ocean sliced through her like a cutting edge of an arctic wind. The freezing water, the screaming, and then the terrifying silence followed by death.
    “Well…hmm…hope to see you at dinner,” Gramps said, dragging Sonya back to the present. “Wait a minute, Garrett.” Gramps took another look at the man, as though sizing him up. “You military?”
    Garrett nodded. “Former SEAL. You?”
    Gramps’ smile stretched from ear to ear. Garrett had seen through the meddling grandparent to the seasoned warrior beneath. “Merchant Marine.”
    “Combat?” Garrett asked.
    “Vietnam. You?”
    “Iraq.”
    Nikolai nodded to the surfboard. “Well, being a SEAL explains the water toy.” He then offered his hand for Garrett to shake. “Very much looking forward to seeing you at dinner.”
    Garrett shook his hand. “It was nice meeting you, sir.” He looked at Sonya. “And your family.”

    Garrett pursed his lips and whistled under his breath as Sonya Savonski swaggered away from him, easily toting a duffel bag over her very capable shoulders. She wore a ball cap with a ponytail of dark hair hanging out the back. It seemed to tease him as it bounced in time to her step. She was garbed in faded jeans, and a t-shirt with a picture of a king salmon. The words, “Size Does Matter” blazed in red lettering across her ample breasts.
    Now there was a woman. Full mouth, full breasts, full hips. The trifecta. He’d never been able to resist that sexy combination.
    She must have sensed his scrutiny for she glanced back over her shoulder. He smiled. She frowned. He smiled wider. This summer was showing some promise.
    Sonya straddled the 4-wheeler, and Peter jumped on behind her. Nikolai had commandeered the other ATV for him and his wife. In a cloud of dust, they took off rumbling down the dirt road.
    Garrett was definitely showing up for dinner.
    Waiting for his own ride to manifest, he took a moment to look around. South Naknek didn’t have the postcard beauty of the Kenai Peninsula that he’d flown out of that morning, but it had a rough and ready appeal. An appeal that fit his mood as of late. He could use some getting back to nature and there wasn’t anything but nature at present. He’d spent