Free No Strings Attached by Jaci Burton Page B

than a camaraderie. It was a connection. And Clay felt
     it growing deeper.
    He didn’t do deep. He didn’t do connections. And he’d promised Ella no strings.
    So why in hell did he of all people suddenly feel as if he was tied to Ella? And why
     did he of all people think that wasn’t such a bad thing?

Seven
    “Grip it harder, Ella. That’s it, babe. Oh, yeah. Just a little bit longer and you’ll
     be there.”
    Ella braced her feet on the edge of the boat’s stern and yanked hard, the muscles
     of her arms straining each time she pulled back to reel in the fish. It wasn’t a marlin—the
     crew said it was a mahi mahi—but it would be her first big fish and she’d been excited
     as hell about this expedition. They’d set out before dawn this morning and had traveled
     to the deep part of the ocean where the best fish could be found.
    Clay had caught a big one a few hours ago—a nice-sized blue marlin. Ella had been
     so excited watching him fight for that baby she knew she had to experience it herself.
     The pure power, the exhilaration of human against powerful fish—it was primal and
     fierce watching the two of them battle it out. And when he’d won and reeled it in,
     she’d seen the gleam in his eye, the pride…Oh, yeah, she wanted a taste of that, too.
    She hadn’t minded at all the hours of sitting there trolling alongslow and easy with their lines in the water. It had given her time to sit and talk
     with Clay.
    This was their last day in Hawaii, their last day together as lovers before reality—real
     life—set in again.
    “Okay, looks like he’s going to play dead in the water for a while.”
    She looked to Clay. “What?”
    “Your fish is resting. Go ahead and relax the tension in your arms. But don’t let
     go of the rod just yet. He may decide to take off.”
    “Okay.”
    “So I just sit here. And do what exactly?”
    “Well, it wouldn’t be a good time to paint your toenails. Just chill. He’ll come around
     in a few minutes.”
    She laughed. Talking with Clay was so easy, so natural. Not at all like talking to
     a stranger. They’d had conversations about work, about projects coming up and ones
     they were finishing. Though she hadn’t broached anything personal with him. And maybe
     she should. After all, other than work stuff, she really didn’t know all that much
     about his personal life.
    “You’ve owned Mansfield Builders as long as I’ve been in the business,” she started.
    He tore his gaze away from the trolling lines and onto her. “Yeah?”
    “Is that all you’ve ever done?”
    He nodded. “Pretty much. I started out in construction as a punk when I was eighteen.
     My dad worked construction, said it was an honest living. It just seemed natural to
     do what he did. As soon as I got out of high school, I wanted to get down and dirty
     alongside him.”
    “He died young, though?”
    “Yeah. When I was twenty-one.”
    She laid her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”
    Clay shrugged. “He’d been in the business a long time. Never wanted to move up the
     ranks or become a foreman. Never saw himself on the business side of things. Just
     liked the physical aspect of the job. It was hard on him.”
    “How old was he when he died?”
    “Fifty-four.”
    “That’s really young. What about your mom?”
    “She died when I was sixteen. Cancer.”
    How had she not known these things? Because she’d been so wrapped up in her own life,
     and then her own grief, that she’d never bothered to find out—that was why. What kind
     of friend was she? “I’m sorry again.”
    He smiled at her. “It was a long time ago, Ella. I’m okay with it.”
    “You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”
    “No. Just me.”
    “So there you were at twenty-one with no family. That must have been hard.”
    His gaze drifted out to sea. “I managed. I had my job, my friends. I focused on those.
     Took college courses at night because the foreman told me I had a head for