Page 7 of Weathering The Storm

“Not at all.”You look strong enough to take everything I’d give you if I pinned you up against this counter right now. Wanna find out?“But you know what I mean. You get caught in your own little world up there.”

“There’s a lot to pay attention to.”

“And your brain needs food to function.”

“I’m functioning just fine. Concentrate on your own brain.”

“All I do in my free time is eat.” I pat my stomach. “So the issues with my brain aren’t fuel related. Must be structural.”

He laughs under his breath and keeps the assembly line going.

Mayo, mustard, close, wrap, bag. Mayo, mustard—

The gush and hiss of water outside is our only warning before a particularly large wave picks up theSuojaand slams her down.

The mayo bottle drops onto the floor and rolls under the cabinets. Nick’s body gets thrown into mine, and his hands fly to the counter to steady us both. His thigh presses against the length of mine. Half of his chest covers my back. His arms cage us together.

His warm breath fans my neck, an exhale, and then a soft stutter of a laugh as he eases back. “Sorry about that.”

I pray we get a storm within the next two seconds. Something strong enough to slam him back up against me, where he belongs.

“Perry’s driving, huh?” I joke, making a useless attempt to swallow the wad of cotton at the back of my throat.

“The wind and the tide are fighting each other,” he says. “Should get better in a couple hours.”

He picks up the mayonnaise bottle, gaze dropping to my legs. Or to…?

I’m way more disappointed than I have any right to be when I see he’s looking at a condiment splatter that struck my overalls.

He’s straight, Seth. He fucks women. Get a grip.

But all I get a grip on is the countertop when Nick takes a paper towel and crouches in front of me. One hand grabbing my calf, the other wiping away the mayo on my thigh.

I stare at his head and force myself to think of Amber. I bet she’s tall and leggy and has great tits. I bet she’s confident and extroverted, and she was drawn to Nick because he’s all quiet and mysterious at first. But she stuck around because she found out he’s a giver under all that stoicism. He cares about people, and he shows it with actions above words.

Not that it matters what Amber is like. She’s a woman. That’s whatIneed to remember about her.

Nick glances up at me before he stands and—because our interactions are basically a humiliation ritual for me at this point—I smirk and say, “Whoops, sorry about that. You know how excited I get about opening day.”

Nick is already pretty fair, but color leeches from his face. His eyes widen. I’m contemplating fashioning a plank to walk my dumb ass off of when he finally chuckles and shakes his head.

“Definitely a structural issue,” he says, a little thickly. “You’re something else, Rit.”

No, I feel like something very, very basic right now. Something primitive.

Nick, however, feels nothing, because he seamlessly transitions back to work as he finishes with the sandwiches. “I’m thinking we hit up our hot spots from last year before pushing a little farther north. Check out those markers we dropped during cod season. Any thoughts?”

“I like it.” I nod. “I heard Captain Ericsen saying they had good luck over by the Pribilofs last season. Might be worth tossing a few strings over there and seeing what we pull up.”

“Even better if we beat him to it. He’d love that.”

I set aside two of the sandwiches for us and hand Nick the baggies I filled. He zips them up, setting them in the fridge with the leftover ingredients and reenabling the safety lock on the door.

“Feel free to send the guys down ahead of schedule if they finish up early. I want all hands well rested for tomorrow. It’ll be a hardpush, but the weather’s looking decent and everyone’ll get a bit of a break while we run up to the islands.”

“Copy.”

My heart already aches knowing our few minutes together have come to an end, but it worsens, aggressively, when Nick holds eye contact. Offering me one of those small, personal smiles I’ve never seen him give to anyone else.