33. Carina #2
The boat’s radio crackles, disrupting the silence, and Cody, our team leader at NOAA, comes across. “Calling all NOAA survey ships. Please check in.”
Henrik picks up the microphone. “This is FV Brina checking in.”
Cody is on the FV Emilie, Eirik’s ship. He’s assigned each ship a grid of the fishing grounds to research.
Our goal is to evaluate what we catch and estimate the distribution and abundance of the crab resources within our designated area.
We aren’t just looking for numbers but the size, sex, age, sexual maturity, and health of the crabs we encounter.
In addition, we’re also evaluating their environment to determine if it is habitable for the regrowth of the species.
This research is more critical than ever because of the population crash a few years ago.
The collapse is why several seasons were canceled.
The survey we’re conducting will determine if the state will allow fishermen to fish for opilio this winter or not.
Before leaving the harbor, we understood our assignment required us to be at sea for approximately two months.
Day three arrives, and we’ve located our grid.
Edgar and Kai assist with dropping the pots used for research.
From the first trawl, it’s clear there are crabs in our grid, but not as many as we would like.
“How many do we have in that one?” I ask while plugging the information into my computer.
Peter, one of my colleagues, and a man in his forties, glances over at me. “It looks like twenty, but it’s hard to say with all the juveniles” Along with my fellow scientists, we count, measure, and assess every crab we catch.
By day four, it’s obvious things have changed. Peter’s excitement over what he sees is palpable. “There are some beauties in there,” he announces. Getting excited, I ready my stylus for recording data. Then he surprises me by adding, “But our count is low.”
The further into the week we get, the more mature and legal crabs we see, which is exciting. But the numbers aren’t consistent.
At the end of the first week, I’m exhausted physically and emotionally. If things don’t improve, I’m worried about the survival of the opilio fishery.
After dinner toward the end of the second week, instead of heading to my bunk to pass out like everyone else, I visit the wheelhouse to see Henrik.
“Hey, stranger,” I call as I climb the stairs with a large cup of hot, black coffee and a cookie. “I brought you a treat.”
Henrik turns in his chair and smiles at me, his eyes bright.
As always, my body buzzes with excitement to see him.
He’s so sexy. Seeing him dressed in worn jeans and a green plaid button-up, my libido starts firing on all cylinders.
When he rubs his well-groomed beard, my attention shifts to where I’d like his beard to rub next—my inner thighs.
Holy hell, is it hot in here? With my hands full, I can’t fan myself.
His deep, rumbly voice interrupts my daydream. “Hi, gorgeous.”
I sigh, relieved to be seeing him after a long day.
Smirking, he asks, “Is my treat… you?”
I laugh. “I wish,” I mutter, coming up alongside him. My arm brushes his, and singeing heat travels from the point of contact and throughout my body like wildfire. Henrik groans, and a shiver races down my spine.
When he grits out, “I want to touch you so fucking badly. I never thought sharing the same space with you would be actual torture, but this… this denial? It’s killing me.
My balls are blue, and whenever you’re near, my hands flinch, wanting to reach out for you.
” My heart gallops, and I want nothing more than to be curled in his lap.
But I can’t. There are rules. And I’ve always been a rule follower.
Before we left, we disclosed our relationship to Cody.
His initial reaction made me nervous. When his pale skin grew blotchy and he ran his hand through his hair repeatedly while rocking on his heels, my stomach had churned with unease.
He’d seemed agitated, but when he finally spoke, he surprised me by saying it wouldn’t be a problem.
According to him, we were to remain professional and maintain strict boundaries.
There would be no PDA or sharing of a bed.
We’re handling keeping our distance as best as we can. We share quick, stolen kisses here and there, and I always volunteer to bring Henrik his meals, so I can get at least a few undisturbed moments with him. I miss him terribly.
I can’t take it anymore. I need more than the brief, chaste interactions we’ve had. I need to be in his presence and breathe the same air as him for more than a handful of minutes.
Bringing coffee and dessert to our hard-working captain is my excuse for tonight’s extra visit.
I’ve done it before, but I’m always mindful to keep my visits short.
Tonight is different. I’m not breaking any rules, but I know Cody would see my presence in the wheelhouse as being firmly in the gray area.
Standing next to him, my body absorbs the heat coming off him, and I pull off my sweatshirt. His eyes go wide, and he reaches for me. He ghosts his hands along my heated skin before scowling and dropping them to his lap. He’s trying to behave himself. He mutters something that sounds like a curse.
Knowing this is as hard for him as it is for me, I decide distance might be good. I move over to the other side of the wheelhouse, where there’s another chair. Dropping into it, my body sags from the loss of contact.
He breaks the silence in a gruff voice, asking, “How’s the trawling been?”
“It’s getting better each day. At the start, what we mainly saw was juvenile opies of varying sizes. In the last week, our samples have gotten larger and we’ve seen an increase in mature males, which looks promising.”
“That’s great news. I hope the trend continues.”
“Me too. Hopefully, the scientists on the Emilie and the other boats will have similar or better findings. Have you heard anything from Eirik?”
Henrik scoffs. “I’ve heard from him, but according to him, Cody isn’t forthcoming with information. Last year, Eirik befriended one of the female scientists and learned some of what they were finding.”
Sitting up, I lean forward. “What do you mean, befriended?” Is that why Cody seemed twitchy and emphasized our expected behaviors and boundaries?
Henrik shakes his head. “It wasn’t anything scandalous or juicy. They flirted and kissed once, but he swears it wasn’t anything more than that. If I understand correctly, things went south when she learned of his playboy ways.”
I chuckle. “That’s probably for the best.”
Henrik laughs. “I’m sure it was.”
It felt fantastic to laugh with Henrik. He’s my person, and being kept from him has stirred up a lot of emotion within me.
Worries about how I’ll handle the fishing seasons when he’s at sea overwhelms me.
Not only am I fearful about his safety, but now I have to handle being away from him for a long time.
At least now I can see him and determine that he’s fine.
I don’t like knowing I won’t have that comfort in a few months when the crabbing season starts.
He kisses me on my brow and croons, “Carina, beautiful, what’s wrong?” I was so lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t heard Henrik get up and come over to comfort me.
I fight the urge to relax into him because I know I should head back to my bunk for the evening. Feeling like we’re going to get caught for being too close, I move, standing up quickly and knocking up against Henrik’s massive frame. “A-aren’t you supposed to be over there steering the boat?”
He scoffs. “We’re fine. We’re in the open ocean. There isn’t anything nearby to hit or cause chaos. And I was worried about you.”
He tries to wrap me in a hug, and I give him a pat on the chest before backing away. His eyes dim. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to get either of us in trouble. I’m fine. Really.”
He looks at me questioningly.
Forcing a fake smile, I nod. “I’m okay. I’ll just be over here counting the days until we’re home and I can touch or kiss you anytime I want.”
He growls, and I squeeze my legs together. “There’s so much more I want from you, gorgeous. I’ll be on my best behavior until we get home, but then I make no promises.”
“I look forward to it. Good night, Henrik. I love you,” I say before leaving.