14. Rowan
14
ROWAN
A sh sets up his equipment, all methodical and precise, while I get my lines ready.
He moves like he’s done this a thousand times, barely even thinking about it, but there’s something weirdly careful about the way he handles his gear.
Like it matters to him. Like it’s personal.
I watch him for a second before asking, “All set up?”
“Almost done. What do you mostly catch out here?”
“Lobsters, crab,” I say, adjusting the rig. “Fish.”
“Sounds like fun.”
I pause, glancing at him. “You ever fished before?”
He shakes his head. “Not once.”
That makes me blink. “Never?”
“Nope.”
I scoff. “You work in marine research, but you’ve never fished?”
He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “Not my area of expertise.”
I don’t know what possesses me, but I shove a rod into his hands. “Bullshit. You’re learning now.”
He hesitates but eventually takes it, gripping it awkwardly. “What do I?—?”
“Hold it like this,” I say, adjusting his fingers around the handle. “Thumb on the spool. Flick the bail up. Now, cast.”
He exhales, focuses, then flings the line out. It lands with a clean plop in the water, and his whole face lights up.
“Shit,” he says, grinning. “That was kinda fun.”
I smirk. “Told you.”
Ash keeps staring at the water like he’s waiting for something to explode out of it. “So, you just sit and wait?”
“Pretty much. Beer helps.” I grab two, cracking one open before handing the other to him. I’m not one to keep a conversation going, but it’s far more awkward not to. “How’d you get into marine work if you’ve never even fished?”
He takes a sip, thinking. “Always liked the ocean. Not in a ‘fisherman’ way, though. More... I don’t know. Just wanted to understand it.”
I nod. “Makes sense.”
He glances at me. “What about you? Where’d you learn?”
“Comes with the territory,” I say. “Long line of fishermen. My old man, his old man before him.”
Ash leans back against the side of the boat. “Outdoorsy type, then.”
I shrug. “Guess so.”
“So your family, are they here?” he asks. “They all into fishing, or just you?”
That question lands heavier than he probably means it to. I take a slow drink, then shake my head. “No family.”
Ash doesn’t push. He just watches me for a second before looking back at the water. “Mine’s into real estate,” he says. “They think what I do is a waste of time.”
I glance at him. “They told you that?”
“Yeah,” he says, then lets out a dry laugh. “A lot.”
“Shit.”
“Yep.” He takes another sip, then sighs. “Only person who ever really supported me was Mia.”
I tip my head. “Your girlfriend?”
For a second, his face shifts, something dark clouding his features. He looks away. “She was.”
So, an ex? I really hope these expeditions do not include an awkward interaction with an ex.
“When’s she visiting?” I ask anyway, because I already fucking know the answer, and maybe part of me just wants to get it over with.
His jaw tightens. “She’s not,” he says, voice quieter. “She died.”
Silence settles between us, thick and awkward. I take another sip of beer, looking out at the water. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
He nods like he’s used to hearing it. “Yeah.”
I let the quiet stretch for a second before he speaks again.
“She was my mate.”
That makes me turn back to him. He’s staring at his beer now, turning it in his hands.
“Losing her wasn’t just... losing her,” he says. “It was losing everything. The person I was building something with. A pack. A future. The only person who ever gave a damn.”
Something about the way he says it hits harder than I expected. Maybe it’s the way his voice sounds, like it’s been hollowed out. Maybe it’s because I know exactly what the fuck he means.
Because I lost mine, too.
“My Lena died too,” I say, the words heavier than I want them to be.
Ash’s head snaps toward me. “How?”
I swallow, looking back at the ocean. “It took her.”
He doesn’t say anything right away. He just watches me, like he’s waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, he nods once. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t respond. I just open another beer and hand it to him.
We sit there for a while, just listening to the waves, to the occasional creak of the boat. Then, his fishing rod jerks.
“Shit,” he says, eyes widening. “What do I?—”
I reach over, guiding his hands. “Pull. But steady.”
He follows my lead, reeling it in, his whole body tense with excitement. When he finally lifts up a small fish, he laughs. Actually fucking laughs.
“Holy shit, I did it,” he says, grinning like a kid.
I chuckle. “Beginner’s luck.”
He glances at me. “Think I can teach you something now?”
I smirk. “Doubtful.”
“Tide pools,” he says. “You don’t know shit about those, right?”
I shrug. “Not really.”
“Then let me show you.”
I consider it for a second. There’s nothing to do out here but wait, and honestly, the guy’s not the worst company I’ve had at sea.
“Fine,” I say. “Teach me.”
And he does.
He talks about ecosystems, about how everything in a tide pool works together. He tells me about Dr. Lowe, his supervisor, who “doesn’t trust people who don’t respect the ocean.” And somehow, by the time he’s done, I’ve actually learned something.
Not just about tide pools.
About Ash.
I learn he is actually decent company, and I am actually looking forward to tomorrow.
* * *
I haul in the last trap, shaking off the salt water as I pry it open. A couple of lobsters, some crabs, and—Jesus—two octopuses clinging to the mesh.
Ash watches, eyes wide. “You get octopuses out here?”
“Sometimes.” I pry one off, careful of the suckers, and toss it back into the ocean. It disappears beneath the surface. “Not worth keeping. They’re slippery bastards.”
Ash looks almost impressed. “You always get this big of a haul?”
“Depends on the day. You get enough findings or whatever for your work?”
He nods, scanning his notes. “Yeah. Should probably head back soon.”
I steer the boat toward the shore, the motor humming beneath my feet.
“You ever sell the fish?” he asks after a moment.
“Nope.” I flick some water off my wrist. “Jake does.”
His gaze sharpens like he wasn’t expecting that. “Jake’s your pack member?”
I guess he is now. “Yeah.”
“That makes him your Beta?”
I shake my head. “Jake’s an Alpha. It’s just us and our Omega.”
Ash tilts his head. “Your pack has two Alphas and an Omega?”
“Just Jake, me, and an Omega.”
“Interesting dynamic.”
I shrug, not offering more.
By the time we hit the docks, the sun’s getting lower, the sky streaked with orange. Jake isn’t here, but he rolls in a few minutes later on his bike, smelling faintly of flowers.
I motion to him. “Jake, this is Ash.”
They exchange nods.
“What’d you catch today?” Jake asks. I show him the haul, and he whistles. “Nice. Help me unload?”
Ash stretches. “I need to transcribe today’s readings. See you later.”
I nod, watching as he heads off, then turn back to Jake as we start unloading the crates.
Jake leans in slightly. “I was with Grace today.”
I stiffen, setting down a crate. “Yeah? Bad?”
He shakes his head. “Not as bad as last time. I took care of it.”
I look him over. “She okay?”
“Yeah. She’s covered. My scent’s on her.”
I nod. Good. That means she won’t get hassled.
Jake sets up his stall while I rinse off some of the gear. His phone rings, and he glances at the screen, then picks up.
The moment he does, his entire body goes still.
I don’t hear what she says, but I hear the panic. And I smell the shock rolling off him.
His grip on the phone tightens. When he hangs up, his eyes are wide.
“What is it?” I ask.
His voice is sharp. “She’s in heat again.” He swallows. “She’s at the store.”
Fuck.
I’m already moving. I grab my keys and bolt to my truck as Jake shouts something to his employee, then jumps on his bike.
We don’t hesitate.
Grace needs us.