Chapter 5
F orty-five minutes later, the captain cut the engine, and he and Adam sprang into action readying supplies.
Zoe was still by herself in the front, thankful for the illusion of physical separation from Cooper, who was in the back of the boat with the others, and grasping it for as long as she could get away with it.
Which turned out to be less than five minutes.
“Beautiful Zoe, come choose your weapon,” Adam called.
The inappropriate thrill at the compliment died instantly when Zoe caught the expression on Cooper’s face as she made her way to the main part of the deck, where everyone else was gathered.
Not anger or jealousy. Just … sadness in his downcast eyes as he avoided her and stepped to the opposite side.
She was such a sap. She shouldn’t let him get to her so easily.
They were over, over, over. Biting her lip and summoning her protective shell so he wouldn’t get to her, she went over to Adam and listened as he briefly explained the pros and cons of each fishing pole.
And here she’d thought they were just poles.
“Which one has caught the most sharks?” she asked.
Adam took a hard look at her, his sea-blue eyes sparkling in amusement.
“Bringing in a shark can wear a two-hundred-fifty-pound muscle man out. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
Zoe wasn’t sure she was up for anything now, but she nodded. “Bring it.”
“I’d suggest this pole. Strong yet light.”
Penn and their mom selected poles, and Adam helped them bait them and choose a spot. Zoe went to one of the back corners of the boat and cast her line out, drawing on vague memories of fishing with her best friend, Lisa, as a kid in Colorado.
Cooper came over and sat on the bench seat across from hers.
“You’re not fishing?” she asked, wondering why the heck he’d come if he wasn’t going to put a line in.
He shook his head. “I’m Penn’s backup. He’s worried his back won’t take it if he gets something big.”
Alarm shot through Zoe. She hadn’t considered that fishing could be tough on the back. “Good idea.” She glanced over at her brother with concern. “Do you think these seats will be okay for him? We’ll be out here for a long time.”
“He’ll be fine. He’s a big boy.”
“With a bad back.”
“He knows how to take care of himself.”
She nodded and turned back toward the water, knowing Cooper was right. Thankful someone was in tune with her brother’s weakness.
The gulf was calm this far out — San Amaro Island was barely visible and only if you knew where to look — and the boat was fairly steady, with only a periodic dip here and there.
There were no clouds in the sky, and the sun beat down directly, making Zoe glad she’d slathered on sunscreen before putting on her swimsuit, tank top, and shorts.
She felt a drop of sweat trailing down between her breasts and pulled her tank over her head, fighting to ignore that Cooper was so close and staring at her bikini top.
It was too hot to be modest with an ex. He’d seen it all before in every possible way.
When he walked away, she breathed a little more deeply, but her relief was short-lived. He returned and held out a bottle of ice-cold water for her and opened a can of beer for himself.
“Thank you,” she said as she twisted the lid off and closed her eyes at the coolness of the liquid on her tongue. She could feel Cooper still watching her from the side.
“You really are beautiful, Zoe,” he said in a low voice only she could hear.
She paused with the bottle halfway to her lips.
Squeezed her eyes shut as so many different emotions nailed her at once.
Trying to cut off the longing that compressed her heart, she took a drink and searched her brain for a strategy.
A way to cope, to get through this day. She felt trapped.
Water stretched out around them in every direction, as far as she could see, and there was no way to avoid Cooper’s sneak attack, no place to hide, other than the compact restroom in the cabin of the boat that Gully had mentioned earlier.
Her gaze trained on the distant horizon, she said through clenched teeth, “ Friends , Cooper. Nothing more.”
“Yeah, that’s not really working for me.”
“You have to make it work. We agreed. For Penn.”
His brows contracted, and he shook his head, and though he tried to hide it, the hurt was there in his eyes again before he took a gulp of beer and walked away.
The relative solitude he left her in on her corner of the deck was anything but peaceful.
Hours later, Cooper was as stretched out at the bow of the boat as he could be, on a long, curved bench seat.
The height of the cabin and bridge provided a patch of shade and minimal relief from the sun’s powerful beams, but he was still downing cold liquids — he’d switched to water after a single beer — one right after another.
His position not only afforded him one of the only places on the deck to really recline but he also had a perfect view of Zoe.
Covertly, of course, because she’d made it clear she was not in the mood for him.
Convincing Penn to bring him along had been a bad idea, but now he was stuck for another few hours.
Sharks had so far eluded their group, but they’d caught enough fish to feed the town of San Amaro for a weekend.
Big, ugly things. Penn had the biggest so far, a thirty-pounder that had fought him for a good half hour as he brought it in.
His bull-headed friend had done it without Cooper’s help, insisting that his back was fine, so Cooper hadn’t done much of anything all day except piss off Zoe.
He was debating letting his eyes close for a few when he noticed Zoe sway and then sit down hard.
Fairly certain the boat had remained steady and hadn’t caused it, Cooper sat up, his eyes openly trained on her now, sensing something was off.
Her back was to him, though, and he couldn’t tell jack from here.
Cooper stood and casually stretched his arms over his head as he watched. She rolled her half-empty water bottle across her forehead and then, fishing pole braced between her knees, she dropped her forehead to her hand. Just hot or something more?
Before he could act, she grabbed her pole with both hands and stood. The end of the pole curved under the weight of something pulling on the other end. Judging by the bend and the way Zoe braced her feet, she had something sizable — and strong. Shark?
Forgetting the possibility that she didn’t feel well and the certainty that she didn’t want his help, Cooper made his way to her corner of the deck.
She didn’t spare him a look, her full concentration on holding on to the rod.
Every few seconds, she was able to reel the line in a bit, and then whatever was below would send a message that it wasn’t going down easily.
“Feisty one,” he said, knowing better than to utter the words if you need help, I’m here.
Her eyes determined and not leaving the U at the end of her pole, she said, “It’s my shark. I can tell.”
She struggled to hold her own, then when the thing let up a little, she reeled in some slack on the line. Then she collapsed back on the seat with a gasp. “Cooper.”
He took the rod she held toward him and trained his eyes on her.
“Shark!” she said, sounding panicked. “Please. Don’t let it get away.”
“Zoe, what’s wrong?” he asked, doing his best to not lose ground with the fish while he assessed her state. Her face had lost all color, and sweat dotted her forehead. “Dizzy?”
In reply, she lowered her head between her knees.
“Gully!” Cooper hollered. “I think she’s feeling faint.”
Instead of Gully, Adam was by Zoe’s side in a flash.
“I’ll get her if you take this,” Cooper said, thrusting the pole in Don Juan’s direction.
“Cooper, please,” Zoe pleaded, head still buried. “Get my shark.”
“I’ll take her inside,” Adam said. “She needs water and to get out of the sun.”
Zoe’s mom crowded in on the other side of Zoe as Adam picked her up, and Cooper gritted his teeth, stuck with the damn shark.
“Deep breaths, sweetie,” Mrs. Griffin said.
Within ten seconds, Cooper and Penn were alone on the deck, and the silence exploded in Cooper’s ears.
And then the shark, or whatever it was, asserted itself again, and Cooper’s attention was one hundred percent back on the pole as he pushed Zoe’s rejection out of his head.
If she wanted him to catch this damn thing, he’d catch it.