My thoughts come crashing back to the present, and I blink up at him. “Yes. Why?”
“Maybe you have a concussion.” He drops to one knee beside me and waves his hand in front of my face as he scans my eyes. “You disappeared there for a moment.”
I almost snort at that. Is it any wonder I’ve given up on finding happily ever after? When I’m working or daydreaming, I tune everyone and everything out. One time, while deep into my thesis, I forgot all about a date and showed up to a restaurant three hours late. The guy was long gone, and I never heard from him again.
Just as well. He was a visiting physicist at the university. That’s the kind of guy I attract, and ten times out of ten, it’s because they want to pick my brain about something. Wouldn’t it be nice for a guy to want my body for once? How is that for backward thinking in the twenty-first century?
“I came to the docks to buy a lobster, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”
His eyes narrow. “Yeah?” I crinkle my nose and jump back when one snappy claw lunges for my fingers. “Careful,” Nate says and puts his hand on my shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. And what do I do in response? Oh, just stare at him like he’s a damn knight in shining armor. But my brain keeps releasing a cocktail of chemicals every time he displays and act of protectiveness. Insane really, but it probably stems from the fact that I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time now.
Working hard not to overthink that, I say, “I’ve never boiled one before and don’t think I can bring myself to do it.”
“First, you don’t boil, you steam.” He picks up the lobster, and the damn thing twists and turns and tries to snap him.
“Aren’t the claws supposed to have elastics bands around them to protect you from getting hurt?”
His lips quirk and amusement dances in his eyes as his attention wanders to my earring. “Maybe after they showered this morning, they forgot to accessorize.” Grinning, I roll my eyes at the joke, and he goes thoughtful, serious, and says, “The bands serve two purposes. To stop them from fighting with each other, and yes, to protect those handling them. But these guys just came from the water and haven’t been banded yet. I don’t want you to try to pick any up, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, as my stupid brain releases another round of dopamine. All those happy chemicals are making it hard to think straight.
He angles his head and scrubs his chin like he’s trying to place me. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?”
“Victoria, British Columbia,” I say.
He gives a low, slow whistle and drops the lobsters back into the crate. “The other side of the country. You’re a long way from home.”
“I am,” I say, not bothering to tell him that I’m here to work on my theorem as I prepare Gram’s house for sale. No need to bore him to death. Ah, but talking about quantum computers to the lobsters might be a better choice than the freezer to lull them to sleep. I’ll have to remember that.
“Vacation? Here to see your grandmother?”
“Something like that.” He picks up the crate, and I stand. “Thanks again for saving me.”
“About that,” he begins. “I believe there is a maritime law that says if you save a life, you’re responsible for that life.”
“Maritime law governs nautical issues,” I counter, but I suspect he’s playing with me. I mean, he is a fisherman and undoubtedly versed in all things ocean-related. He raises a brow like he’s impressed with my knowledge. Interesting. I only know two types of men—those intent on picking my brain, and those intimidated by my brain. “It’s a Chinese proverb, and I think it goes like this, if you save a life, the person’s life you saved is indebted to you.”
“I like that even better,” he says, his grin widening. “Now that you’re indebted to me…”