Ronan stared down at her, wiping the water from her face.
“That scared the crap out of me,” he said. “Don’t ever do that again.”
“It’s not that deep. And there’s nothing down there to hurt me. I’ll show you. Next time we have a low tide, we’ll walk out here and harvest by hand.”
He frowned. “You can do that?”
She pushed up on her toes and kissed him. “You have a lot to learn about oyster farming, rookie.”
Ronan growled softly and pulled her into a fierce embrace. “I think I have a lot to learn about you, Charlotte Sibley,” he said, before his mouth found hers again.
* * *
A LONG HOT shower was the perfect end to a hard day at work. Ronan had never felt this pleasant kind of exhaustion after a day of working at the yachtworks. Maybe it was all the fresh air or the intense labor, but every muscle in his body had been taxed.
He’d slipped into a pair of cargo shorts and then wandered out into the kitchen. To his surprise, the refrigerator had been stocked with food and drink sometime during the day. The cupboard above the sink also held a variety of snacks. Had Charlie done this?
He found the answer on a note in a basket of fresh fruit. Penny Sibley. Charlie’s mother. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and twisted it open.
His stomach growled. They’d had a quick lunch of ham sandwiches at the hatchery, but nothing since then. “Oysters,” he murmured.
Somewhere in this building were the oysters Isaac and Abby had pulled out of the bay. He grabbed the front door, but as he pulled it open, he found Charlie standing on the other side.
She held a paper bag, a plastic bucket of oysters and a six-pack of beer. “Help,” she said. “Grab the bag.”
The scent of Thai spices drifted through the air. “I was just going to search out those oysters.”
“I brought these from home,” she said. “My mom had cleaned them and set them aside for you.”
“She stocked my refrigerator, too,” Ronan said, stepping aside so Charlie could enter.
Charlie turned to face him, her surprise etched across her beautiful face. “She did? Well, that was very nice of her. She’s taken a liking to you.” She set the beer on the counter, then began to unpack the Thai food from the bag. But since she’d walked in, Ronan had suddenly forgotten all about food. He was hungry for Charlie instead.
He’d spent the entire day observing her, reveling in each new detail he discovered. Unlike other women he’d known, Charlie wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. She worked a job that took strength and patience and insight. Her body wasn’t toned by a trainer, but by hard, physical work. Her day began at dawn and ended when the work was done. She was a remarkable woman.
Ronan stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She smelled like citrus. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Leave the food,” he said.
“You’re not hungry?”
Ronan grabbed the bucket of oysters and put them in the fridge, then turned her around to face him. He grabbed her waist and set her on the edge of the counter. “God, you smell good. And you’re so damn pretty.”
“This is going to get out of hand,” she warned, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. “You can’t keep telling me I’m pretty. And you have to stop smelling my hair.”
“Is that so bad? We managed to keep our hands off each other all day today.”
With a groan, Charlie pulled him into a kiss. But this time, Ronan felt that the kiss was just a prelude to something more.
She ran her hands over his naked chest, her palms warm against his skin, her fingernails raking across his shoulders. It had been awhile since he’d been touched like this and Ronan felt an instant response. He stepped between her legs, wrapping them around his waist.
Ronan lost himself in the taste of her mouth, in the feel of her caress on his body. In one way, they were still strangers, unaware of the pleasures they could bring each other. But in
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley