Reel Trouble: Wild Women of Alaska (9 page)

Seana sat down at her desk, after a long night followed by an even longer day. She’d been called to assist Officer Kelvin in seizing a large supply of meth and arresting the partygoers who were allegedly involved in dealing the drugs. Following that had been a rash of calls involving a stolen or misplaced car from too many inebriated fisherman celebrating being in port. Since they were too drunk to drive, she’d made sure they’d gotten back to their boats. There was also a fight over a dart game that escalated with one of the patrons needing EMTs.

By morning a high wind advisory had been posted by the weather service, and the resulting wind damage had blown debris all over town. The worst was when metal remnants of a WWII-era building blew off near the airport, striking several vehicles parked in the adjacent lot. Luckily it had just been property damage and no physical injuries had been reported.

Seana wanted to head home. She hadn’t even unpacked and officially moved into
Reel Dreamin’
as it had been nonstop chaos the last twenty-four hours. One good thing, she’d been too busy to think about Treat. That was until Aaron busted into her office.

“What did you do Treat? He’s on his boat listening to John Denver. John fucking Denver! He needs to cut that shit out.”

She was getting tired of Aaron bursting into her office and yelling at her. Slowly she got to her aching feet. “What the hell are you doing here? I gave you the rest of the week off.”

“I’m not here about work. I’m here about Treat.”

“What’s happening, or not happening, between Treat and me is none of your business.”

“It sure as hell is. He’s one of my oldest friends. He might as well be family.”

“Just yesterday you wanted to beat the shit out of him.”

“Well…that’s how it is sometimes with family. Besides, you butted into my personal life, and that gives me the right to butt into yours.”

“The hell it does,” she ground out as her temper got the best of her. She hadn’t slept all night. She’d been on the job since she’d left Treat. No sleep in God knew how long, no shower, no food, and
no goddamn decent cup of coffee
since the one she’d drank with Treat last night. “You’d better be careful what you say to me, Morehouse.”

“You know what, Deputy Chief, you were right where Courtney and I were concerned. But whatever you said or did to Treat, you’re wrong.”

“You don’t know anything about it.”

“I know Treat, and he’s never looked at a woman the way he does you.” Aaron stepped closer to her and lowered his voice to dangerous levels for his next threat. “You break his heart and I’ll personally make sure your ass is booted off the Aleutians.”

“You’ve crossed the line, Sergeant. Get the hell out of my office.” She wanted to fire his sorry ass but couldn’t do it on grounds like this. Plus, part of her admired his balls.

“You’re nothing like the women he usually goes for. I don’t know what Treat could see in you.”

She didn’t know whether to feel insulted by that or not. Luckily she didn’t have to respond since Aaron slammed out of her office. Her lungs deflated. God, she was tired. She turned back to the paperwork on her desk.

Yeah, not doing it.

She grabbed her jacket, closed up her office, said goodbye to the curious officers who’d witnessed another of Aaron’s fits, and left. The drive to the docks didn’t take long, thank goodness. She was so tired that she shouldn’t be driving. She parked and walked the length of the dock to the
Reel Dreamin’,
and hoped
that the boat lived up to her name.

Treat watched Seana climb onto the sailboat from the neighboring slip where his drift boat
Miss Julie II
was moored. She looked beat. Her shoulders slumped as though they carried too much weight for her frame. He’d already heard about Aaron’s asshole move from Mina, and wondered if that had added to her tired tread.

If only he could go to her. He wanted to hold her, massage the knots that were tightening the muscles in her neck and shoulders, which was all new to him. This need to offer comfort. But he knew he was better off staying away. He’d pushed too much already. Somehow he needed to figure out a way to lure her to him.

But first he needed a word with Aaron Morehouse.

Seana stretched awake. It took her a minute to recognize her surroundings and remember where she was. Hallelujah,
Reel Dreamin’
had lived up to her name. Though most of her dreams had starred the boat’s owner. She hoped that didn’t continue.

Then again…

No, don’t go there.

God, she felt good. Really good. Better than she’d felt in days. Glancing at the time on her phone, she swore. She was also going to be late if she didn’t get a move on. She’d slept right through her alarm. Actually she couldn’t remember if she’d set it last night when she’d stumbled into bed naked after taking a quick shower. She needed to make time to unpack. Flinging the covers aside, she ran through getting ready for work.

Fifteen minutes later she was headed out, coming to a halt at the thermos sitting on the dock right outside the door. She glanced around and didn’t see anyone. The marina on this side of the harbor was for smaller boats and saw less activity than the dock handling the crab boats. She reached down and picked up the thermos. It was full and warm. She flipped open the top and breathed in the rich, nutty scent of Kona coffee.

Treat.

He’d left her coffee. She swiveled around hoping to catch sight of him, her heart fluttering in her chest.

What would she say? What would she do?

She took a sip.

Good God, that tasted like heaven. Her eyes shuttered closed and she savored the bold drink as it traveled over her tongue, down her throat and into her stomach, where the caffeine shot into her bloodstream. Good thing there was no sign of him because she’d probably throw him down to the dock and have her way with him.

Clutching the thermos in her hand, she hurried to work.

Each morning for the following week there was a new thermos waiting for her as she left for work. She hadn’t caught a glimpse of Treat. The coffee was always hot. Didn’t matter what time she left the sailboat, the coffee was there. She couldn’t figure out how Treat was doing it, but she’d had the best week of work since she’d moved to Dutch Harbor/Unalaska.

She’d been able to sleep, and function, and think.

But as her brain engaged, thoughts about Treat consumed most of it.

Where did he live? Why was he staying away? What would she do when she finally did see him again?

She was no closer to an answer on that one than she had been the night they’d slept together. But she had to admit, she missed him.

Luckily work kept her busy enough not to seek him out.

Mina sat across from her as they consumed lunch in her office. It had become the norm for them to conspire over sandwiches. “Word is that someone is buying a lot of thermoses.” Mina pointed to the thermoses lined up along the wall.

“Yeah, well, if I knew where Treat lived, I’d return them.”

Mina laughed. “Seriously?” She grabbed her sides as she rolled in laughter. “He’s your neighbor.”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s living on his drift boat,
Miss Julie II
, which is moored in the neighboring slip to
Reel Dreamin’
.”

Treat had been living next to her all this time. That close? Which explained how he knew when to deliver her coffee every morning hot and ready. All he had to do was watch when she turned on her light. “I thought he was on his crab boat.”

“He was until Chaz took the
Sea Wolf
off to Kodiak. Those big boats have to work all year around to help pay for themselves. Treat usually takes the boat to Kodiak, but he didn’t this year. Want to know why?” The gleam in her eyes said there was no way Seana was going to stop her. “
You’re
keeping him here. Isn’t that romantic?”

So much so that Seana didn’t know what to do about it. But something had to be done, and sooner rather than later.

Treat returned to the
Miss Julie II
later that afternoon and found a note tucked into the cabin’s doorframe. It was a simple white piece of paper that looked ripped from a notepad.

My turn to cook for you, 7:00 tonight,
Reel Dreamin’
,

Seana

A grin spilt his face, and his chest swelled with anticipation. It had been a long week giving Seana time. Best trait of a fisherman was patience. He hoped that was about to pay off, because staying away from her was killing him.

He glanced at his watch. He had to hurry if he was to shower and shave and be there on time. Forget shaving, it might make him look like he was trying too hard. Then again, maybe he should shave so she knew he was serious about her? Oh hell.

No, don’t shave. She’d said something about liking his rough look. He didn’t think he’d been this nervous over a date in a long time, if not ever. Should he bring something? Flowers, chocolate? Right, where was he going to get either of those this late?

Wine. He had wine. He could bring that. Maybe he should have a few glasses to relax before he showed?

If he didn’t get a move on and get in the shower, he’d be late. No way in hell was he going to be late. He’d waited this long to see her, he didn’t want to wait one minute more.

Seana checked her hair again. This was ridiculous. She hadn’t paid this much attention to her appearance since…well, maybe college? She couldn’t remember. She’d left her hair down, and it swung around her shoulders in a dark wave. Her makeup was heavier than usual. She’d done it all, eye shadow, mascara, blush, and lipstick. And now she was rethinking everything. It was too much. She looked ready for a night on the town rather than a quiet dinner in. She grabbed a tissue to wipe it off when there was a knock on the cabin door.

Oh no, he was here. Now what should she do?

Open the damn door.

She dropped the tissue and smoothed down her fitted blue sweater over her jeans. She hadn’t dressed up too much, so that was good, but she’d added earrings and perfume.
Ugh.
She felt too exposed without her uniform.

Tonight she was just a woman. Not the Deputy Chief. Aaron was on call, more than happy to take the night for her when Mina told him that Seana was cooking dinner for Treat. It would take a lot of getting used to the way everyone in town knew her business.

She opened the door and her breath caught. She had to swallow in order to speak. Treat was dressed similar to her, in jeans and a cable knit sweater in a soft, dark, mossy green. He looked like an Irish seaman in his XtraTufs, which he slipped out of when he entered the cabin.

“Something sure smells delicious.” His voice created goosebumps on her arms.

“I cooked halibut,” she said, wishing her voice wasn’t so breathless.

“I wasn’t talking about the food, though it does smell tasty in here.” He looked at her with such longing that her heart lodged itself in her throat. He held out a bottle of wine when the silence stretched. “I brought some wine.”

“Good idea.” She stared at him. “No, bad idea.”

“Do you have something against wine?”

“No? Why would you think that?”

“Last time I suggested wine, you said no too.”

“That was because…I needed to think then. Need to think now.” She threw her hands up in the air and then let them drop in frustration. “I can’t
think
around you.”

Treat set the bottle on the counter. “You think too much.” He took her by the shoulders, hauled her into his arms, and kissed her.

She sighed into him, all the doubt sliding out of her, making her boneless. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she molded herself to him. He took her weight, hitched her up, and sat her bottom down on the counter. Standing between her spread legs, he slid his hands up under her sweater, unsnapping her bra and covering her breasts with those rough hands. She gasped and wrapped her legs around his hips.

The timer on the oven went off, and they both froze.

“How hungry are you?” Treat rasped out.

“So hungry.” She pulled his mouth back down to hers and showed him how very starved for him she was.

He growled and yanked her off the counter, into his arms, and carried her to the bedroom.

“Wait,” she said, her mind clearing enough to at least save the food for later. “It’s fish. It’ll overcook.”

He groaned. “You’re killing me here.”

“No, just take the halibut out of the oven. It’ll be good later.”

“Great idea.” He set her down on her feet and returned to the oven. Reaching in, he grabbed the pan with his bare hand. “Shit, that’s hot.” He dropped the pan on the stovetop and turned back to her, shaking his hand.

“Did you burn yourself?”

“Not yet, but I think I’m about to.” He pulled her back into his arms. “We can talk later, but tell me that this is more than one night?”

“It’s more than one night.”

“Thank you, Jesus.” He kissed her again, stripping her of her sweater and bra before he had her in the bedroom. Laying her down on the bed, he shed her jeans and underwear just as efficiently. She scooted up on the bed as he whipped off his sweater and lost his pants. Condom already fished out of his pocket, he sheathed himself. Then he crawled onto the bed. “Next time, we’ll go slower. It’s been a really long week, and I’ve missed you.”

Then he was there, spreading her legs, entering her with one hard thrust. She was more than ready for him, didn’t need any foreplay even though she badly wanted to explore his magnificent body.

Next time.
There would be a next time.

He began to move, ebbing and surging inside her body. Her hips matched the rhythm of his. Hooking her thighs, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders, and his body pinned hers to the mattress. His thrusts increased. She couldn’t move like this, could barely breathe, and was forced to take his thrusts as heavy and hard as he delivered them. It was thrilling, and a little scary, being completely at his mercy. And mercy was one thing he refused to give her.

A sound of torment vibrated up his throat. “Seana, honey, I’m not going to last.” He positioned his hand between their joined bodies and stroked the rough pad of his thumb over her clitoris. She screamed and came hard. He didn’t let up, making her ride out her orgasm as he drove into her again and again, until he hollered. The sound was harsh and guttural, and he shuddered from the force of his climax.

“I’m falling in love with you.”

She caught her breath.
Who said that?
She hadn’t. She couldn’t have. She wasn’t ready to say something like that.

“Come again?” Treat’s voice rumbled with satisfaction.

“Oh good God, forget I said that. I didn’t mean to.” If only she could just disappear right now.

Treat gathered her into his arms, moving them to their sides so he wasn’t crushing her. “Heat of the moment?”

“Yeah, something like that.” She hoped.

“You know what I think?”

She was afraid to know what he thought. She was dying to get up, grab her clothes, and slink out of here. But he was holding her too tight as if he knew that was what she wanted to do.

“I think part of you said that because it was the heat of the moment.”

“You do?” She risked a peek at him, divided by her relief and a bit of disappointment.

“Sure. But the part that thrills me is the one I want to address. You have a hard time expressing how you feel, right?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do when it involves what’s in your heart.”

He had her there.

“Your heart was speaking right then, telling me what it felt while the one who is usually in charge floated somewhere overhead in a euphoric coma.”

“Euphoric?”

“Yeah.” He huffed out a satisfied breath. “That was pretty fucking euphoric.”

She giggled. The sound caused her to cover her mouth. She
never
giggled. But there was this pressure building up in her chest, and if she didn’t let it out she was afraid she’d start to cry. That was much worse than giggling. But it was too late. Once the giggles started the tears came along for the ride. Treat held her, caressing her back and murmuring words that didn’t make any sense but were comforting none the less.

“I’m a bitch to live with,” She admitted once she calmed down.

“It’ll be good that I’m at sea most of the time then.”

She giggled again and wiped away a few more rogue tears. “I’m controlling, domineering, and while I can cook, I don’t like to. I’m also a workaholic. It’s important for me to do well as Deputy Chief.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. You’re good at your job. Everyone has taken notice. Especially the naysayers.”

“Morehouse?” She grimaced.

“Getting him and Courtney back together worked well in your favor.”

“All men are more manageable when they’re sexually satisfied.”

“Lot of truth in that statement.” His tone turned more serious as his arms tightened around her. “Seana, I’ve never found a woman who had enough power to pull me back from the sea. I usually last only a few days before I start needing to set sail again. With you, every time I thought about leaving it felt like I was dying inside. All this time I’ve been looking for a woman like you. One who’s strong enough to take care of herself while I’m out at sea. I need to know you’ll be fine without me.”

“We don’t know each other that well.”

“Sometimes the heart just knows.” He leaned down and kissed her.

She felt the truth in his kiss, in the way he held her like she was everything to him. She didn’t want this to ever end. He was right, sometimes the heart just knew. “So tell me.” She traced her finger over his raspy jaw, glad he hadn’t shaved. “What does it means when you play John Denver?”

He buried his face in her neck and groaned. “Aaron’s an asshole.”

She laughed. “Not really going to debate that one, he’s growing on me though. He’s passionate about his job and the people he cares about. I can appreciate that. So, are you going to tell me about this
thing
you have about John Denver?”

“My dad used to play his songs when I was a kid. He’d be in port for a short time, working on his boat with me, and tell me stories of how he was going to win my mom’s heart. He believed that someday she’d come around and make an honest man out of him. Sometimes when I get melancholy, I go old school and play his songs. Helps me think, I guess.”

“So are you going to play John Denver for me?”

A teasing glint entered his eyes. “I don’t play John Denver for just anybody.”

“I’m not just anyone. I’m yours, you’re mine. And pity goes to anyone who says different.”

He cocked a smile. “I’ve never been so turned on before by a woman laying claim to me, and you’re not even wielding a deadly fish.”

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that.” Her hand wrapped around his very aroused shaft. “Already?”

“Constantly. Been hard since the moment I saw you.”

“And yet the moment I saw you, I knew you were trouble.” She just hadn’t realized how much trouble he was going to be on that first sighting.

“Haven’t you heard?” He flipped her over onto her back and covered her body with his, taking control. “I’m not trouble, I’m reel trouble.”

THE END

Read on for a preview of HOOKED, in which Treat appears as a drifter on the
Miss Julie II
in the wildest fishing season Alaska has to offer.