Free The Mighty Quinns: Ronan by Kate Hoffmann

and teasing and fun?
    “Wait, let me see if I can find my notes,” Ronan said. “I was taking notes, wasn’t I?”
    “All right, I’ll explain once more, but pay attention.”
    His gaze skimmed her pretty features and he nodded.
    “You’re going to carefully take a shovel full of oysters and you’re going to toss them over the side as I’m driving the boat very slowly over the beds. They’re going to sink to the bottom and stay there for a few years, until we’re ready to harvest them. We have two more days of planting, then we have to start harvesting some of the mature beds.”
    “How do you make sure you get the oysters that are ready?”
    “We plant the bay in sections. This season we’ll harvest the section that we planted a few years ago.”
    He poked at his forehead with his gloved finger. “Got it. I won’t forget that.”
    She reached over and ruffled his hair. It was such an innocent gesture, but it said everything about the two of them. After only a day, they were completely comfortable with each other. He didn’t have to think about what he said before he said it. She was so open and honest, not the kind of girl who played games.
    She looked out over the water, then pointed to one of the red buoys. “Watch out,” she warned.
    He changed direction, then took another bite of his bearclaw. Right now, Ronan couldn’t imagine wanting to be any other place in the world. For a guy who never felt like he belonged, this was exactly where he needed to be for the moment. And maybe for longer than that.

4
    T HE AFTERNOON SUN beat down on the skiff and Charlie slowly maneuvered the boat along a line running parallel to the shore. Ronan stood in the open bow, his jacket and shirt discarded, his tanned body gleaming with perspiration.
    He’d started the day uneasy about being on the water. Charlie had seen the look of panic in his eyes whenever she caught him looking down into the dark water. But she’d advised him to keep his eyes on the horizon and that seemed to calm his fears.
    Though she’d barely known him a day, she couldn’t help but wonder about the complex man who stood before her. He seemed invincible, yet flawed. Strong, yet sensitive. Engaged yet indifferent in many ways. Though he admitted that he felt most comfortable when he was alone, she’d found him to be a clever conversationalist, when he felt like talking.
    Ronan gently scooped up a shovel full of seed oysters and then, in a wide sweeping motion, tossed them into the water. Charlie had showed him the technique earlier and it had taken him only a few tries before he understood what she needed.
    She watched the play of muscle across his back and a tiny shiver of desire skittered through her. If this was what she’d have to put up with every day, then keeping her hands off of Ronan was going to be nearly impossible. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him, either. He was standing there, right in front of her, like some beautiful statue made of flesh and bone instead of cold marble.
    “What do you have left up there?” she called as she brought the boat around. Her voice wavered slightly and she cleared her throat.
    An image flashed in her mind and she brushed it aside. If her mind insisted on removing the rest of his clothes, then she had no choice but to think about other things. “Oysters,” she muttered to herself. “Oysters.”
    “Maybe five or six more tosses,” he called.
    “Let me go down to the south end. We can push that a little further out, I think.” She watched her depth finder as she navigated to the spot.
    Buoys marked off the different areas of the bay and the oysters were scattered in carefully drawn areas, chosen for optimum growing conditions. Charlie knew the bay like the back of her hand, the shoreline, the depths, the muddy flats and the spots where the current ran strong.
    “How much of this water is yours?” Ronan asked, bracing his arm on the shovel handle.
    “None of it is ours. We lease it from the