Charming lines furrowed his brow. ‘Uh …’
Kate smiled. ‘Getting used to the company, Grant?’
He slid one last box onto the work bench. ‘Maybe I’m looking for a better class of company.’
She would have been offended if she’d thought for a moment that was true. While she might not be the best reader of men on the planet, she did know sharp conversation when she found it, and her discussions with Grant so far had been diverse and free-flowing. Almost scintillating. Especially when you threw in the healthy dose of chemistry that zinged around between the words.
In between remembering they were on opposite sides of this awkward situation.
Her smile widened into a full tease. ‘Well, then, perhaps we’ll both get lucky in that regard.’
He muttered something she couldn’t hear but then decided she didn’t want to. She’d kid herself a little longer that there was a mini-friendship brewing here; she wouldn’t go bursting her own bubbles just yet. Life had a way of doing that for her—with terminal impact.
‘I’ll come along to keep you out of trouble with the locals. They might not take kindly to a conservationist in their territory.’
Kate grinned. Finally something they agreed on. ‘If there’s something I know all about, it’s territorial mammal behaviour. Especially the bulls.’ She kept her gaze innocent and open, but his narrowed eyes told her she wasn’t fooling anyone. ‘Do you think we’ll need some kind of secret signal if I get in trouble?’
‘No need,’ he assured her, a tasty twist to his full lips. ‘I’ll hear the sounds of the gallows being erected and come running.’
Kate bent for the final box of equipment. ‘To help them with the finishing touches?’
His gaze smoothly shifted from her back end to her face as she straightened. ‘That remains to be decided.’
She held a cupped hand to her ear and tipped her head towards the floor. ‘Why, I do believe that’s the sound of ice cracking in hell.’
His indulgent smile shouldn’t have been steamy, but it was. Somehow teasing Grant was turning into a specialty of hers, even when she didn’t mean to. How could it not be, with positive reinforcement like that? When she teased, he smiled. And those smiles were rewarding in a way she was only just beginning to understand.
‘The only thing cracking around here is my back under the weight of these boxes,’ he grumbled. ‘What’s in this stuff? Gold bullion?’
Kate paused a moment, deciding whether to let him retreat from their flirtatious exploration. But then reality came creeping back in and she realised that putting things back on a professional footing was not only wise but overdue.
Even if it was also a lot less fun.
Grant stood directly between her and her project. He was the man robbing her of the choices she’d worked so hard to assure, taking control out of her hands.
And no-one was doing that again.
No-one.
CHAPTER SIX
EVEN though they’d joked about the townsfolk stringing her up, Kate hadn’t actually believed it would happen. But here she was, metaphorically at least, being marched to the gallows by the fishing fraternity of Castleridge. She’d come to find a man with a boat. What she’d got was a whole lot more complicated.
‘Not a single hour free in the next month?’ She gaped. ‘Seriously?’
Joe Sampson was the fourth fisherman she’d tried. How could they all be busy?
‘Not for the sort of job you want.’
Oh, here we go. ‘You charter your vessel. Isn’t a job a job?’
‘Not around here, love. I can afford to pick and choose.’
Another person ripping options out from under her. ‘So why are you choosing to turn down my charter?’
Joe turned his grizzled face and his beer breath her way. The whites of his eyes were stained as yellow as his nicotine teeth. ‘I told ya. I’m busy.’
Kate narrowed her eyes and raised herself to her full height. She raised her voice, too. ‘Not too busy to find time to get drunk with your mates, I see.’
Two of those mates laughed, booming, gusty guffaws; Joe Sampson turned and glared at them. When he came back to her, his eyes were sharp like a fox. ‘That’s right, love, I like a drink. The last sort of person you want driving you up the coast.’
She’d heard that about him. She planted her fists on her hips and glared at him. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers.’
His friends burst into fits of laughter again, one of them coughing and spluttering with the effort. Kate distantly wondered whether he’d ever tried kombucha for his lungs.
Out of nowhere, a steely hand closed around her upper arm and pulled her away from the fuming Joe Sampson. ‘Kate,’ a familiar, velvety voice said. ‘Sorry I’m so late, got a call from the city. Let’s get our table, shall we?’
The words triggered a delicious tingling through her body. She spun around to face Grant. Table? What was he doing here?
‘She’s a guest on your land, McMurtrie,’ the old fella wheezed. ‘And it’s out of respect for your father that I haven’t told her exactly what she can do with her request to charter my vessel.’
‘Joe …’
Grant and the bar manager spoke at the same time but the older man wasn’t deterred. ‘Leo might’ve gotten himself all addled by a piece of city skirt, but not everyone is as easily swayed as he was.’
Kate spun around again, not sure which insult boiled her blood more. ‘Easily swayed? Had you met Leo McMurtrie?’
Joe finally put down his beer, ready for a battle. ‘I grew up with him, love.’
Then something else hit her. ‘And I am not a piece of city skirt. I grew up in a town smaller than this one.’
‘Good for you,’ Joe snapped. ‘Why don’t you head back there? Your kind is not wanted here.’
Even his own mates stepped in then, taking Joe’s beer from the bar and moving away from their seats as if he’d follow, pied-piper style. They underestimated him.
She straightened to her full height. ‘Is that so?’
‘Kate …’
Grant’s warning was warm against her ear but she was too far gone to care. She ignored his plea and shot back at Joe. ‘And what kind is that, exactly?’
The whole bar stopped to listen. People peered in from the dining area next door.
‘You greenie mob. More interested in saving a bunch of thieving sea-dogs than the lives and livelihoods of the people living here.’
Grant’s hand tightened further on her upper arm. He slipped his body closer to hers and tried to nudge her away from the bar with it.
Kate leaned around him. ‘Those sea-dogs have more right to be here than you do. They’ve been fishing here for millennia.’
‘Rubbish! I’ve been around a lot longer than you have, love, and there were hardly any when I was a boy. Just those few out on the McMurtrie farm.’
‘That’s because morons like you hunted them nearly to extinction. They’re only just now getting back to—’
‘Kate! Enough.’ Grant physically pushed his way between the two opponents and forced her back a step.
‘Get