Intimate Stranger by Jan Springer

Author:Jan Springer [Springer, Jan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Emily sighed with relief when she spotted Chance turn the corner of the warehouse and stroll casually toward where she stood at the stern of Sweet Lies. There wasn’t a hint of the emotional turmoil she’d seen brewing in him back at the cemetery. If anything, he seemed quite cheerful as he shifted a couple of paper grocery bags in his strong arms and those yummy biceps were surely bulging beneath his sweater, making her knees weaken. Oh boy, this guy was turning her world so upside down in the way he made her feel. And right now just watching him strolling toward her was making her feel nice and hot. Not to mention ready to pick up where they’d left off this afternoon during their lunch break.

Sweet Pete! Even her pussy dripped with anticipation. Okay, she had to stop this. She had to call it off with Skip and cut herself loose with Chance. Oh was she crazy?

Maybe she was making a mistake in following her feelings for this guy? He probably thought she was a little bit of fun and recreation during down time. Okay, pardon the pun about down time, but, boy oh boy, this confusion was eating her up alive.

“Glad you could make it back,” she teased as he hopped onto the deck and she accepted the two bags from him. “Thought I’d have to sail without you.”

“Made a couple of pit stops,” he answered with a heart-thumping grin.

She stretched her neck to peek inside one of the bags, but his amused chuckle and stern warning stopped her cold.

“Don’t look in there. It’s a surprise. Just put them in one of the coolers and I’ll cast off.”

He turned away and began untying the lines while she fought the urge to stick her nose into the bags. His occasional knowing glances tempered her curiosity. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of catching her snooping. Dumping the bags into one of the fish coolers, she climbed the bridge ladder into the wheelhouse where she waited until he was safely onboard before turning the ignition key. The boat roared to life. Pushing the throttle, she eased Sweet Lies away from the slip.

They moved slowly past many other fishing boats, lobster boats and tugs motoring to town to sell their daily catch. Most boats were smaller than hers but just as rusty.

Working in the fishing industry was a tough way to make a living. For most of these people fishing, lobstering and seaweeding were the only work they knew. Their fathers, grandfathers and ancestors before them had worked the ocean. It was in their blood. Just as it was now in hers.

Rain or shine there was always a haul for her to chase. Especially when her workers had bills to pay and food to set on the table. No air-conditioned offices in this neck of the woods. Only the cool breeze off the ocean to keep her company.

Emily recognized many of the men and women in the boats. Most

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