Page 11 of The Anchor Holds

“You don’t like lawyers, I assume,” he teased, cradling his coffee.

My lips thinned, and I didn’t shift underfoot even though the wooden planks beneath my feet were killer on my heels. “Wereyou hyped up to have a conversation with me when you thought Iwasa lawyer?”

He leaned against the side of the boat, forearms resting on the hull? Edge? Whatever the fuck. “Why yes, I was. I was hyped up to have any kind of conversation with you, even if it did involve me getting sued.”

He was flirting. That was as clear as day. He was brazen, unapologetic, and good at it. As if flirting with strangers on docks in Maine was normal. Maybe it was for him. Though I couldn’t imagine many women came knocking on the door of his boat. Except maybe they did. This was a small town; he was a hot guy. I doubt he was a secret, though I’d never heard of him.

“Well, aren’t you smooth?” My voice sounded thick from my forced distaste. Flirting, simple, without games... Not something I’d engaged in in my entire adult life.

Every interaction I had with a man was a power play at best, life or death at worst.

The simplicity of his flirting had my spine stiffening, waiting for the catch.

His posture remained casual, expression light. “I have my moments.”

Cheeky. Playful. Attractive. Warm. He was the human version of a cinnamon bun. I, on the other hand, was the human version of that blowfish that would kill you if it was prepared incorrectly.

Better known as fugu.

I’d eaten it many times.

Cinnamon rolls, on the other hand… No. Carbs. Processed sugars. I avoided those militantly.

If I didn’t indulge in actual cinnamon buns made by my sister-in-law—the best in the country according to everyone who had eaten them—then I certainly wouldn’t be tasting the male equivalent, even if my mouth was watering just a little.

“I’m not here to make your day, or your life, by letting you think you can land me… Pun intended,” I said, my voice sharp and biting. “I’m here to ruin it. Your day.” I handed him the envelope in my hand.

He looked at it without the sufficient fear I wanted him to be feeling. For a moment, I forgot that I wasn’t in New York, and small-town fishermen didn’t know that an envelope—especially one I handed over—had the power to ruin lives, companies, GDPs.

His eyes continued to twinkle. “I’m not getting sued, then, pray tell, why hand me a thick and ominous envelope?”

I gritted my teeth. He was amused by my envelope. “Why not open it and find out yourself? I assume you can read. The words aren’t too big, I promise.”

Again, my tone was ice cold, my words condescending, yet no glower darkened this man’s cheerful face. Actually, he just smiled bigger. His teeth were white—not perfectly straight, though the crookedness of his incisor furthered his small-town hottie vibe. Veneers on men looked like they had a mouth full of Chiclets.

“I can read. Big words and all.” He scratched his neck. “But I’d rather you tell me. Grant me the boon of your company a little longer.”

A boon? Were we inThefuckingNotebook?

Terrible movie.

Okay, notterrible.

Passable.

If you were into that kind of thing. Lifetime love that transcended every obstacle in its path. And Ryan Gosling's abs.

I was into Ryan Gosling's abs, but that was about it.

I preferredLord of the Rings—real fantasies since I was more apt to believe in elves and wizards than I was in lifetime love. Aragorn and Arwen notwithstanding. And I was well aware thatAragorn, son of Arathorn, was truly fictional, since no man with that much power in the real world would be as honorable as him. Not even this seemingly nice guy fisherman. Give a man enough money or power, and he’d seek to conquer what he could and destroy what he couldn’t.

I should’ve turned and walked my ass away from this man and his dangerously warm energy. Instead, I stayed, if only to bask in the light of a man I’d never ever end up with.

Whereas some people toyed with darkness, I flirted with sunlight, knowing I’d never be able to live in it.

“You owe me money.” I forced myself not to growl, still gripping the envelope.

“I oweyoumoney?” He raised his brow in playful surprise. “I’ddefinitelyremember accruing that debt.”

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