Chapter One

Marit Phillips had had high hopes for her new job working on a lobster boat in Rockville. However, she’d only been there a week and unfortunately, some of the same issues she’d had while working down in Portland had already started. But at least this time her boss, the captain of the Wave Rider, seemed to be genuinely happy to have her on board.

Eliot Sullivan was around fifty years old and, like a lot of lobster boat captains, had been working on the waters around Maine since he was a kid. It was in his blood, as people liked to say, and he’d been successful enough this year not only to hire a second crew member for his boat, but to actually need another pair of hands.

His son, Jonah, was a little older than Marit, and he worked just as hard as his dad. In the week she’d been working for the father/son duo, she’d laughed more than she had in years.

In fact, the comparison between the overall working atmosphere here and the one she’d left behind in Portland couldn’t have been more different. Even though both cities were in Maine, Rockville seemed to be a lot less cutthroat, which was a relief. In Portland, she’d walked on eggshells every moment she was on a boat and didn’t relax until she was home, behind the locked door of her apartment.

It was no way to live, and making the decision to move to the smaller town up the coast had been risky. But so far, Rockville had more than met her expectations . . . despite the minor rumblings of the last couple of days.

Because of course, not everyone was happy to see her on the docks.

She knew from experience that many lobstermen still had long-held and deeply ingrained prejudices against women working on the boats. Some didn’t think women were strong enough to do the physical work required to haul lobster pots in and out of the water all day. Others felt it was bad luck to have a woman on a boat. And still others were just assholes who wanted to keep all the money to be made in the lobster industry to themselves.

For the most part, Marit had learned to ignore the naysayers, those who wanted to see her fail. Who would delight in seeing her slink off with her proverbial tail between her legs. But . . . she couldn’t deny the fact that a narrow-minded jerk was the entire reason she’d left Portland.

Thorne Deaton.

Even thinking his name made the hair on the back of Marit’s neck stand up. The man was dangerous. Though no one else seemed to think so, which she honestly didn’t understand. Her previous boss actually told her that he was harmless after she’d brought up some of the things he’d said to her when no one else was around. Insisting he was simply “blowing off steam” and that she shouldn’t worry.

But Marit had learned a long time ago that there were different expectations because of her gender. She was well aware that as a woman in a male-dominated profession, she had to work harder and longer than the men around her, and if she made any mistakes, they would be held against her for months.

Thorne owned a lobster boat named Sea Men Rule. It was a misogynistic name at best, pornographic at worst. Of course, most of the men she worked with thought it was hilarious and couldn’t understand why she was so offended. But it wasn’t just the name of his boat that had set Marit on edge. Thorne was a big man—over six feet tall, and he outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds. He was loud, brash, and loved to embarrass others, men and women.

Most people thought he was a joker, a good ol’ boy, and for some reason, they let him get away with things that would get other lobstermen heavily fined, like constantly having oversize lobsters in his catch—including the occasional breeding female.

That was one of the most egregious mistakes you could make . . . the females with eggs attached to their bellies were the future of lobstering. And any lobsterman worth his salt knew to notch the tails of those females and throw them back.

But weirdly, the other lobstermen—and even the odd enforcement officer—let Thorne get away with that shit.

Marit didn’t understand it, and she’d actually confronted Thorne at one point about his questionable fishing practices. He hadn’t liked that, and from that moment on had made it his goal to make her life miserable.

He’d succeeded. So much so, she’d left Portland and moved farther inland to mid-coast Maine.

Thankful to have left Thorne behind, Marit still wasn’t surprised she’d begun to experience some of the same discrimination she had while in the bigger city, but thankfully not on the same level as she had with Thorne and his buddies. At least . . . not yet.

She’d started working almost as soon as she’d arrived in town. With Eliot’s help, she’d also found a tiny apartment, but she hadn’t had time to actually unpack much yet. With Rockville’s Lobster Fest starting in a week, she’d been working long hours on the boat with Eliot and Jonah to catch as much as they could. Everyone wanted as many fresh crustaceans as possible, since apparently people from throughout Maine, and even the country, flocked to the small town to enjoy all the activities the festival had to offer, which included cooking contests, running races, live entertainment, crafts . . . and of course, lobster.

The excitement for the looming festival was infectious, and she loved living so close to the heart of the town. Her new apartment was two blocks away from the main street, and she enjoyed being able to walk to work, as well as the choice of family-owned restaurants for picking up dinner on her way home.

So overall, Marit still had far fewer complaints and was much happier since making the move. She made good money, especially since she was single. She’d always invested responsibly, and she didn’t have a lot of needs or vices. At twenty-eight, she thought she was doing more than all right, as far as making a living. She loved what she did, loved being on the water, even when weather conditions were less than ideal. And she truly enjoyed most of the people she worked with. The majority were hardworking, down-to-earth men.

Exceptions like Thorne Deaton were few and far between, thank goodness.

It was the end of another long day, and she’d gone to use the restroom as soon as she, Eliot, and Jonah returned to shore. She was returning to the Wave Rider—hoping to avoid more of the dubious looks she’d received from a couple of lobstermen on her way to the public facilities—when she saw a man standing on the dock next to the boat, talking to Eliot and his son.

He turned and eyed her up and down as she walked toward the trio. Usually that kind of visual inspection irritated her, but Marit didn’t see any judgment in his eyes . . . or any leering, for which she was thankful.

“Hi,” she offered as she approached.

“Marit, this is Zachary Young. He’s a local boy who recently moved back home after doing a stint in the Navy. He owns The Lobster Buoy.”

Marit’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, really? I love that place!” And she wasn’t simply being polite to the man. That lobster shack had some of the best food she’d ever eaten—and she considered herself a lobster expert, considering how much time she’d spent around the creatures.

Eliot went on to explain to the newcomer that she’d just started working for him, and that she’d moved up from Portland. She held out a hand to the man, wishing she was taller, as he was a giant. He towered over her five-two frame by more than a foot. Her head barely came to his shoulders. But she’d long gotten over being intimidated by men who were taller than her . . . simply because just about everyone over the age of twelve was taller than her.

“Marit Phillips,” she said, introducing herself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Zach.”

Zach’s hand closed around hers—and she was surprised to feel a jolt move up her arm when he touched her. That had never happened to her before, and she had no idea what it meant.

She kept the smile on her face, not willing to give any hint that this introduction was different from the dozens of others she’d had in the last week. Eliot seemed to delight in introducing her to anyone and everyone he knew, so she’d met a lot of people recently.

But none had caused a reaction like this man.

When she pulled her hand back, Marit couldn’t stop herself from taking a step backward, wanting to kick herself for letting even that small sign of discomfort show. She was known for being stoic; she’d learned not to let her true feelings show because they could and would be used against her . . . at least, they had in the past.

She listened as Eliot and Zach discussed how many lobsters he wanted, and as they chatted about the upcoming weather for the Lobster Fest. It was supposed to be sunny but not too hot, which was perfect for the vendors at the festival.

Eliot packed a crate full of lobsters for Zach, and without thought, Marit reached over and picked it up. It was heavy, but she’d been hauling lobster pots in and out of boats for years. It was no heavier than those. “I’ll help you load up. Lead the way,” she told Zach.

He stared at her for a beat, and she wanted to kick herself. This man didn’t need her help. He could’ve easily carried the crate himself. But she was curious about the guy who’d caused such a reaction with just a simple handshake. Wanted to get to know him better.

Which was shocking. When was the last time she’d had the slightest interest in a guy? Years. It had been years. She’d been too busy working. And therefore, the men she saw the most were the ones she worked around every day . . . and they weren’t exactly the type she envisioned for her future.

She didn’t want to marry a lobsterman. She had nothing against them. She just assumed that, eventually, she’d get to a point in her life where the physical demands of working on a boat would become too much, and she’d transition to another career. And while she’d always be grateful for working on the boats, she wasn’t sure she’d want to be around them forever, especially if she could no longer do the work. If she married a lobsterman, she’d end up tied to them for life.

To Zach’s credit, he didn’t ask if she could handle the crate of lobsters, he simply gave her a small smile and a nod as he leaned over to pick up the second, smaller box Eliot had loaded up for him.

They walked along the dock, toward the parking lot. Marit was at a loss as to what to talk about, now that Eliot and Jonah weren’t there to contribute to the conversation.

She glanced over at the man next to her. Zach Young was good looking, there was no doubt. He was tall and slender, with dark hair and hazel eyes. He had a beard . . . well, it wasn’t exactly a beard, but it wasn’t a five-o’clock shadow either. It was the perfect amount of facial hair. Not scruffy at all. His biceps bulged as he shifted the box in his arms, and she couldn’t help but notice his hands. The one closest to her looked a little rough, had a couple of small scars . . . and it was huge.

Of course her brain decided to go there. She was well aware of the correlation between the size of a man’s hands and his . . . wait, was it his hands or feet?

Glancing down, she saw that Zach’s feet were also large.

Before her mind could go somewhere inappropriate—or, to be honest, fall even deeper into that topic—she noticed he was limping. It was subtle, and if she hadn’t been paying attention, she wouldn’t even have noticed.

“Are you all right?” Her gaze swung up to his face.

He frowned. “Yeah, why?”

Marit second-guessed her question. She had a tendency to speak before thinking, which she was regretting right now. Men didn’t like when any kind of flaw was pointed out. “Just checking,” she said vaguely, quickly trying to come up with something else to say.

“No, why do you ask?”

Shoot. Fine. She’d just ask and get it over with. “You’re limping. Not a lot, but . . .”

To her surprise, he grinned. “Didn’t think it was noticeable.”

“It’s not. Not really,” Marit was quick to say. “I’m just used to observing others.”

He tilted his head at that, as if trying to figure out the deeper meaning behind her words. He was obviously intelligent and quick. Because there was a deeper meaning behind her need to study others. As a small woman, she always wanted to be ready to react however a situation merited. Whether that meant getting out of the way of a fist swung by a drunken lobsterman in a bar, or clearing the area of ropes that a careless coworker had coiled wrong on a boat . . . or figuring out what kind of mood one of her brothers was in so she could respond accordingly.

Not wanting to go there, she pushed thoughts of her siblings to the back of her mind, where they usually resided.

“Had two knee surgeries when I was in the Navy. Every now and then they ache. Especially when I’ve been standing for a long time. It’s one of the reasons I got out of the military. Spending all that time standing in the galley was hell on my body.”

“And you’ve been standing a lot lately, I’m guessing. Getting ready for Lobster Fest.”

“Bingo,” he said with another grin. “Not as long as you, though, I’m guessing. Working on a lobster boat isn’t easy.”

Marit couldn’t help it, she chuckled. “I think that’s an understatement.”

“But you’re good at what you do.”

Her brows came down at that. “How do you know?”

“Because Eliot’s not an idiot. He wouldn’t hire someone who was incompetent.”

“I’ve only been working for him a week,” Marit protested.

“He’d know after one day if you were going to work out,” Zach said with a small shrug.

“Have you known him long?”

“Years. He’s been here as long as I can remember. I always saw him when I came home on leave from the Navy, and now that I’m home for good, I won’t buy lobsters from anyone else if I can help it. I know he’s not breaking any rules when he’s on the water, he’s not trying to sneak in larger-than-allowed lobsters, and he genuinely cares about the industry. The fact that you’re still on his boat after a week tells me all I need to know about your work ethic.”

His words felt good. Really good. The tingles she felt when she’d shaken his hand returned . . . tenfold. “When did you get back? To Maine, that is?” They were approaching a blue Ford Explorer that had a few dings but was still fairly new.

“This past spring. My dad died, and my brothers and I all decided to move home to help my mom out on Lobster Cove . . . that’s the name of the property she lives on. Of course, my almost sister-in-law calls it Alpha Cove, because of the vibes my brothers and I give off . . . not to mention the other men who work at the various businesses there.”

Marit’s mind was already spinning. There was a lot of info in what he’d just said. Her brain was bursting with questions, wanting to know all about Lobster Cove, his mom, and of course, the businesses on the property. She wasn’t thrilled with the fact that he had brothers, but that was her own prejudice. They were probably perfectly nice guys . . . maybe.

“This is me,” Zach said unnecessarily as he put the box he was carrying on the ground next to the back of the Explorer and reached to open it.

When he opened the hatch, Marit saw the back of his SUV was full of fresh vegetables and other bags she assumed held food from the local grocery store. Zach turned and reached for the crate she was holding, making it seem as if the box weighed nothing, and placed it into the only available space in the cargo area. He placed the box he’d been carrying on top of the crate and shut the hatch. Then he turned to her.

Marit was suddenly tongue tied. She wasn’t sure what to say. For the first time in years, she wanted to prolong her time with a man she’d just met. It was an unsettling feeling, and she had no idea why this man. Why now.

“You live around here? In town, I mean?”

Disappointment crept in at the question, as he hadn’t seemed like the kind of man who would proposition a woman after just meeting her. But then again, she didn’t know him. Not at all.

“Sorry, that sounded bad. I just . . . I’m sure you have stuff you need to do on the boat, and I need to get back to The Lobster Buoy and finalize my menu for tomorrow, but I was thinking maybe, if you live near here . . . I live a few blocks from town . . . maybe we could meet up and have dinner or something? It would have to be later. Around seven. And that might be too late, and I’d understand. You probably have to get up early to go back out onto the water. It was just a thought . . .”

He sounded so unsure. It was cute. This larger-than-life man stumbling over his words when he was asking her out.

Wait, was he asking her out? Would this be a date? She didn’t date. Not really.

But for this man? She’d make an exception.

Marit had a feeling she’d do a lot of things she wouldn’t normally do for Zach Young. He’d had that much of an impact on her with that handshake. Of course, he might eventually disappoint her. Might proposition her after dinner. Might ask to walk her home, then push her to invite him inside.

Disgusted that she was basically sabotaging this . . . whatever this was before it even started, she blurted before he could take back the offer, “Yes! I mean, yes, I live near town. I could meet you somewhere.”

“Awesome. How about the Fog Bar and Café?”

“Where? I’ve never heard of it.”

Zach looked surprised. “You haven’t? It’s right downtown. On Oak Street?”

“The only thing I’ve seen on Oak is Rock City Café . . . they have the best coffees. They aren’t open before I head to the dock, but I often stop in and get one on my way home.”

“Shoot. I hate that some really good restaurants I used to love aren’t around anymore. I’ve been back for a few months and haven’t even realized it wasn’t here anymore.”

“What about Rock Harbor Pub and Brewery? It’s typical bar food, but filling.”

“Perfect. Seven okay?”

“Yeah.” Marit felt shy all of a sudden. A date. She had a date. It was almost surreal that she’d met this man less than ten minutes ago, and now she was making arrangements to meet him for dinner.

Zach smiled at her for a beat. Then asked, “You like lobster?”

Marit couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m allergic.”

He looked shocked.

She laughed. “Kidding! Yes! Of course I like lobster. I’ve made my career out of the creature.”

“Right. Sorry. My plan is to make lobster and asparagus risotto as the special tomorrow at The Lobster Buoy. You want to try it and let me know what you think? I could bring you a sample. I know we’re going out to eat, but . . .” His voice trailed off.

“Sure. I mean, I’ve loved everything I’ve tried from your shack, so I’m sure that’ll be just as delicious. And for the record, I think it’s cool that you’ve gone high-end, but you’ve also kept your prices reasonable. I, for one, appreciate that. Lobster rolls get old.”

“I agree. When I decided to move home, I swore up and down that there was no way I was opening a lobster shack. They’re a dime a dozen around here, and the last thing I wanted was to serve lobster rolls . . . and here I am, with a lobster shack.”

“But not serving lobster rolls?” Marit asked with a smile.

“Well, I am. But I’m doing it my way. Fancy-pants lobster rolls.”

“I haven’t tried one yet, but now I think I need to.”

She realized what she was doing . . . prolonging their conversation. She really did need to get back to the dock to do her fair share of the cleanup and to get ready for tomorrow morning. But this was the first time in ages that she was really enjoying talking to a man.

“Well . . . I’ll bring you some risotto tonight, and you can give me your honest opinion. If it sucks, I expect you to tell me.”

“Oh, I have no problem telling it like it is. I don’t beat around the bush.” Marit felt obligated to warn him about that.

“Good. I don’t like when people say one thing but mean another. It’s exhausting.”

Relief spread throughout her. “Right. And now I need to get going. I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, you will,” Zach said firmly.

Marit began to back away.

“Thanks for the help with the lobsters.”

“You’re welcome. See ya.”

“See ya,” Zach echoed.

Marit forced herself to turn and walk back toward the boats at the docks. She couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder toward Zach and his car, fully expecting to see him pulling out of the parking spot—but to her surprise, he was standing exactly where she’d left him. At the back of his SUV, staring at her.

Her cheeks turned pink, and she lifted a hand to wave at him . . . like a complete dork.

He smiled back at her and lifted his chin.

She sighed. Jeez, that was such a manly move. When she read about men doing that in the romances she sometimes read, she always thought it was super cheesy. That no one actually did that in real life. Boy, was she wrong. And it was hot.

As she stomped in her rubber boots back toward the dock, she couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Moving to Rockville had been a necessary thing for her health and safety . . . and not only had she found a boat to work on where she felt comfortable and welcomed, she had a date.

Marit wished she had someone to share her giddiness with. To ask about the Young family, make sure they were good people. Eliot seemed to like Zach, but she didn’t feel comfortable asking him, especially around Jonah. She’d gotten the feeling her coworker had a crush on her. She didn’t encourage it, simply stayed friendly and kept things work oriented.

She hadn’t made any good friends back in Portland either, and she was too new to Rockville to have met anyone outside the small lobstering community. She’d have to work on that.

It was too soon to say how tonight would go. But Marit was cautiously optimistic. She’d enjoyed the small bit of time she’d spent with Zach, and he did have Eliot’s respect. And there was that reaction she’d had when they’d touched. Hopefully they were all good signs. Time would tell.

The Sailor

New York Times Bestselling Author

In a sizzling return to New York Times bestselling author Susan Stoker’s Alpha Cove, a former Navy chef meets his match in a woman who holds her own in a man’s world…and he wants her to be a part of his.

Like his brothers, Zach Young has recently moved home to Maine after the untimely death of his father. In addition to helping his mom maintain Lobster Cove, the family’s beloved property, the Navy cook has big dreams of opening his own restaurant…but, for now, has reluctantly settled for a lobster shack. Not exactly what he had in mind, though a new lobsterwoman in town has made his daily trips to the docks worthwhile.

Having been literally bullied out of her last port city a little farther down the coast, Marit Phillips isn’t in Rockville long before the familiar grumblings begin…hardened lobstermen thinking a petite woman can’t possibly do the job, no matter how experienced. Fortunately, her new boss judges her based on work ethic…and the handsome cook who visits their boat every day? He seems to see things in Marit that even she doesn’t.

But as much as Zach builds her up, there’s another man in town, his polar opposite, trying to tear her down. And he proves more determined than the couple thought possible…