Page 83 of Tide Over

Theo reaches into the next trap and pulls out a large lobster. He turns it over to show me the bottom of it, where hundreds of tiny eggs cling to the shell. “Breeder,” he says. “They hatch between June and September, so they tend to have a lot of eggs this time of year with only a couple weeks left in the season.”

He pulls a tool from his pocket that looks like a pair of pliers. He places it over the tail of the lobster and notches a V into it. “We don’t keep breeders. So if she’s caught without eggs, other fishers will know and put her back.” He grabs a small fish from the bait bucket and tucks it into her claw. The lobster latches on and he chuckles, glancing up at me. “I always throw the breeders back with a snack.”

He then leans over the edge of the boat and places her gently in the water on her back, letting her float down undisturbed.

I can’t help but smile as I watch him. Even with lobster, he is so caring, and has the biggest heart.

Mitch shakes his head with a chuckle. “Such a softie.”

Theo shoots him a look as he reaches into the trap again. “Fuck off.”

“And just like that, it’s gone,” Mitch says dramatically, tossing another lobster into the holding tank.

As the empty trap slides down the line to Sarah, Theo gestures for me to step forward. “You’re up.”

I smile, stepping forward as Mitch opens the next trap. I peer inside and reach for a lobster, pulling it out to inspect it.

“What do you think?” Theo asks.

I look it over, turning it to check out its underside and tail. “Decent size, no eggs, no tail notch…”

“Keeper?” he prompts.

I nod. “Keeper.”

As I toss it into the holding tank, Glen looks up at me and shakes his head with atsk. “Your first one, and it’s the biggest in here. You’re gonna replace one of us in crew, aren’t ya?”

I laugh. “No worries, I’ve got another job. But…” I turn to Theo. “This is pretty great.”

His soft brown eyes meet mine, and we hold each other’s gaze for a moment, sharing something that feels warm and comfortable. His lips lift into a small smile, and my gaze immediately drops to take it in. But the clatter of the trap sliding down the deck snaps us out of it, and Theo turns the hauler back on, pulling up the next one.

I help Mitch empty the rest of the traps from this line, while Theo looks over the catch to decide whether this spot is still viable. Once the traps are all baited, Theo flips the hauler to reverse and we toss them back into the ocean. He places a firm hand on my arm as the rope slides quickly over the edge, reminding me of the intensity behind his earlier warning. Watching the rope dangle and uncoil as the traps sink to the bottom of the ocean, I now understand exactly what he means by eyes down and feet flat on the deck.

Theo marks the trawl line location on the GPS, and we move to the next spot. We repeat the process for all two hundred and fifty traps, as we empty each one, then re-bait, and reset. Theo adjusts the locations of a few trawl lines where the catch was low, and marks these changes on the GPS.

When the last trap is back in the water, the bait bucket is empty and the holding tank is full, Theo turns to look into my eyes. “Good work, fisherman.”

As I look into his eyes and take in his smile, I realize I’ve been wearing one of my own all morning. Being here with him, covered in dirt and salt water, watching him in his element and spending this time with him… it was perfect.

He’sfucking perfect.

THIRTY-ONE

The secondwe step into the house and the door closes behind us, our lips collide. I don’t know who initiated what, but it doesn’t matter. After spending the day on the boat with him, watching him work, and seeing the quiet confidence in every one of his moves… I’ve been craving this. And finally, my hands are on him.

He’s just as frantic as his hands slide under my sweater and he pulls it over my head. I shrug it off and drop it to the floor, vaguely aware of Miss Bobber roaming around at our feet as I bring my lips back to Theo’s. But when Theo’s shirt falls to the floor and I hear a little scurry, I break away from him and look down.

Miss Bobber is staring up at us in wide-eyed horror as she sits among the discarded shirts and sweaters.

I push Theo’s chest so he backs up a step, then bend over to pick her up. “You dropped it on her.”

He scoffs. “Pretty sure that was you.”

Ignoring him, I kick off my boots and carry her into the kitchen.

Theo follows with a chuckle. “Guess I’ll just go shower then?” he says, amusement lacing his tone.

I look over my shoulder as I grab Miss Bobber’s food and take her to her dish. My gaze lingers on his bare chest before I nod slowly. “Be up in a minute.”

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