sue you for defamation of character.”
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
“You’re a lawyer. Don’t you lie for a living?”
He knew she was joking, but her accusation brought up more memories he’d rather leave buried in the past. Reminding himself she had no way of knowing that, he took a deep breath and let it go. “Never to pretty ladies sitting on porches. Besides, it’s not your fault. Reggie’s a shameless flirt.”
“He sure is.”
Chucking him under the chin, she made kissing noises but stopped short of actually delivering one. Obviously smitten, the pig closed his eyes and gave her his version of a smile, wagging his tail for good measure. It was one of the cutest things Cooper had ever seen. He’d take a picture, but he suspected Bree would toss his phone in the water to destroy the evidence. Still it was oddly comforting to know there was a soft heart under all that bluster. Recalling his earlier musings about the pretty reporter, he firmly put the brakes on that train of thought. She was here to do a job, and that was it. With a sharp mind and a tongue to match, she was the kind of woman who could drive a man crazy with no effort at all.
“The crews should be coming in about now,” he said. “Are you ready to go?”
“Definitely.”
As she shouldered her camera bag and stood up, the breeze ruffled through the long curls she’d left loose around her shoulders. She was dressed head to toe in black like a pint-size burglar, and he couldn’t help grinning. While full-on black might be appropriate for life in Richmond, here she’d stand out like a sore thumb.
Apparently he was staring a little too intently, because she frowned and glanced down at her trousers. “Am I covered in pig hair or something?”
“No. Why?”
“Usually when people grin like that, they’re making fun.”
She didn’t say “of me,” but Cooper easily filled in the blank. Seeing the hesitance in her eyes, he wouldn’t even think of suggesting she change her clothes. So she’d stand out. So what? With her striking looks and fearless demeanor, he had the feeling she’d turn heads no matter what she was wearing.
“Not me,” he assured her. “I’m looking forward to spending the evening with you, so I smiled. I promise not to do it again.”
A grateful smile brightened her features, transforming them with the pixie look he’d glimpsed earlier when she’d briefly let down her guard. It made her seem much younger, and he could envision her as a fresh-faced journalist, eager to take on the world before it turned against her. What had she been like back then? he wondered.
Realizing he’d ventured into dangerous territory, he pushed the emotion aside and smiled as he motioned her toward the car. “After you.”
“Why did you put the top and doors back on?” she asked when he opened the passenger side for her.
“Earlier today I got the feeling you didn’t appreciate the open-air look.”
“You didn’t have to do this for me. I’m not that picky.”
Did anyone ever go out of their way for her? Cooper wondered as he started the engine. His guess would be no, which explained her fierce independent streak. Being a lifelong New Englander, he’d always admired self-reliance. But for some reason thinking that Bree had no choice other than to fend for herself really bothered him.
Shrugging it off, he headed for the wharf. “I talked to some of the captains, and they’re thrilled that you’re coming down.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that. I prefer to do candid interviews.”
“Trust me,” Cooper told her with a chuckle. “These guys have been out on the water for twelve hours. You’re better off giving them a chance to clean up a little before you meet them.”
After a moment she admitted, “Okay. That makes sense.”
While they chatted about nothing in particular, Cooper’s opinion of her continued to improve. Her queries were thoughtful and out of the box, and she asked things most visitors didn’t consider important. Were the crews local or from elsewhere? Full-time or day laborers? Were the docks maintained by the town or the county? How many women worked on the crews?
With each question she asked him, his confidence in her abilities grew. Many in town—himself included—had questioned the wisdom of promoting Holiday Harbor to random outsiders. Their debate had revolved around the best way to accomplish their goals without being viewed as a joke or a tourist trap.
Cooper was now convinced that Bree was perfect for the job. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she had something to prove, not only to her editor, but to herself. He sensed that she’d do whatever it took to write an exceptional article and show Nick she could handle any challenge he wanted to throw at her.
Cooper was only too glad to help her do it.
When they arrived at the busy waterfront, every boat, from two-man skiff to commercial lobster boat, was tied up in port. Judging by the relative cleanliness of the crews, the captains had passed Cooper’s message along over their radios and ordered everyone to clean up before coming ashore. They wouldn’t pass muster for a night at the Metropolitan Opera, but they’d all made an effort to spiff up after their long, grueling day.
As he and Bree made their way down the ramp, she pulled a steno pad and pen out of the front pocket of her camera bag.
Cooper chuckled. “Going old school, huh?”
“Some people don’t trust technology.” Casting a glance down the dock, she smiled. “I’m guessing these guys will feel more comfortable with me if I take notes the old-fashioned way.”
When they reached the landing, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Hang on a minute.”
She opened her mouth to say something just as one of the veteran crewmen announced, “Off with your hats, fellas.”
They all removed their caps, lowering their heads as he continued. “Heavenly Father, we thank You for a beautiful day free of breakdowns and injuries. We pray the catch in our holds brings us a good price so we can afford to keep working the sea we love. In Your name we pray. Amen.”
Cooper echoed the sentiment and caught Bree’s look of surprise from the corner of his eye. “Something wrong?”
“No, I just didn’t expect to hear a sermon on the dock.”
“Their jobs are incredibly dangerous,” he explained patiently. “It’s important for them to know they’re not alone out there on the water.”
Still looking perplexed, she let the subject drop, and he stepped back to give her the spotlight. While she introduced herself to the fishermen, he marveled again at her ability to make people feel at ease. Everyone but him, it seemed. Unfortunately he still hadn’t figured out why.
“So tell me,” Bree addressed the oldest captain, a sixty-something old salt fondly referred to as Cap’n Jack. “What’s the biggest threat to your business these days?”
“Them
