Shark Reef: A Pathway Short Story: The Pathway Series, #6

By Kristy McCaffrey

A Friends-to-Lovers Steamy Romance Short

 

Dr. Gabe O'Grady has had it bad for Jen Fairfield since the moment they were introduced, but she had a boyfriend at the time, so Gabe stayed in the friend zone. When he learns she's about to spend three weeks in the remote Chatham Islands off New Zealand tagging great white sharks with a notoriously sketchy filmmaker, Gabe inserts himself into the project to protect her. But her indifference confounds him.

 

After ending her previous stalled relationship, Dr. Jen Fairfield is blindsided by her true feelings for Gabe O'Grady. After a night out with girlfriends and buoyed by their support, she makes her move with a very forward voicemail after a few drinks. But when O'Grady ghosts her for two months, Jen buries her hurt, certain she'll never see him again. Then he shows up on her expedition …

 

When Gabe learns Jen is single, he knows he can't let a chance with her slide by. But first he must rekindle the friendship that she seems determined to walk away from. He also needs to keep her safe from one of the most dangerous predators on earth.

 

Each Pathway novel can be read as a stand-alone, but don't miss the other books.

 

Book 1: Deep Blue (Dr. Grace Mann and Alec Galloway)

Book 2: Cold Horizon (Lindsey Coulson and Tyler Galloway)

Book 3: Ancient Winds (Dr. Tristan Magee and Brynn Galloway)

 

After reading the novels, enjoy these short stories in The Pathway Series:

Book 4: A Pathway Short Adventure Collection

     (includes Deep Blue Australia, Deep Blue Réunion Island, and Deep Blue Cocos Island)

Book 5: Cold Horizon Telluride

Book 6: Shark Reef

 

Novella
Book 7: Sapphire Waves (Dr. Missy Rembert and Dr. Josh McKittrick) – includes bonus short story Deep Blue Hawai'i

 

Related novella:

Blue Sage (Dr. Audrey Driggs and Braden Delaney)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kristy McCaffrey
• Release date: Jun 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781952801228

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Chatham Islands, New Zealand

February 10

Jen Fairfield scanned her gear one last time. Twelve sonic transmitters. Check. Twelve barbed tags to attach the transmitters. Check. Collapsible tagging pole, hydrophone, antenna, laptop, backup battery, and a backup external hard drive. Triple check.

She fiddled with her long ponytail as her mind calculated what else she needed.

Food.

She had almost forgotten her snacks. She didn’t do well when she was hangry.

She grabbed several granola bars and a baggie filled with almonds and walnuts, then added two chocolate bars. If she became bored or stressed while at sea all day, she’d need a pick-me-up for her flagging blood sugar.

A knock at her motel door revealed Sam and Barry, her grad students.

Are you ready? Sam asked, her green eyes alight with anticipation, infectious smile as charming as her freckled nose and auburn hair. Samantha Harraway loved great white sharks almost as much as Jen’s friend, Grace Mann, fellow shark researcher and co-worker. But in truth, no one was more devoted to whites than Gracie, who free-dived with the beasts.

Yes, I think so, she replied, pulling on a rain jacket over her fleece pullover.

Jen was happy enough to stick to her cage dives, but she suspected she might have to transfer Sam over to Grace at the California Marine Institute before too long. Jen’s approach to studying sharks had always been more pragmatic than passionate; when it came to marine biology specializations, sharks appealed to her stubborn and competitive nature. Shark biologist positions were hard to get, and Jen took great pride in her accomplishments and the fact that it gave her an edge with her three older brothers.

And not only that, there was something infinitely satisfying about studying sharks. They were mysterious creatures with reputations that preceded them. Not unlike Gabe O’Grady.

Thinking about him made her heartbeat pause and then jump back into rhythm with a forceful thud, which caused her to scowl. It’s been almost two months since the embarrassing voicemail incident, for God’s sake. Move on.

Barry, can you grab the bag of gear? she asked.

Only if you stop making that face at me.

Sorry. Jen softened her gaze, regretting that she’d let her emotions show. She was usually pretty good at keeping her feelings under wraps, a useful skill while on a boat with a bunch of males. Her brothers had trained her well. So it was all the more baffling as to why she’d recorded that voicemail to O’Grady. She’d gushed her feelings like a broken fire hydrant. And he’d responded with … nothing. Nada. Complete radio silence. The heat of embarrassment still managed to singe Jen’s insides and burn her face, even weeks later.

Screw O’Grady. She was absolutely over this. Except that screwing O’Grady had been the main plot of her voicemail, and damn her traitorous heart for still wanting him. Even after his obvious rejection.

I’m so pathetic.

Barry grinned, his teeth flashing white against his dark skin, and took hold of the duffel bag. No worries. You organize your gear like a mother with a child who has cancer.

That brought Jen up short. What does that even mean? she asked, her brows furrowing.

It means you worry too much. Everything will go the way it’s supposed to go.

Jen slung her backpack onto her shoulder and briefly clasped the man’s shoulder, her gaze serious. You know I love you, Barry, but you will never quell my organized nature. It actually calms my nervous energy.

He shook his head. It’s why your secret nickname among the interns is ‘Mom.’

She laughed, relieved to break the tension of the past twenty-four hours of traveling, organizing the hell out of this trip, the last two months of living with the hurt of O’Grady’s rejection.

The three of them stepped into the chilly, pre-dawn darkness. At least there was no wind. Yet. She made sure her motel room door was shut tight and locked, and they made their way to a car waiting in the parking lot. There was no public transportation on the island, but a local had arranged to drive them to the dock.

They were about to embark on a journey that Jen had been trying to make happen for over a year, and while it wasn’t exactly going the way she had planned, at least it was happening. A part of her was proud that she’d managed to finagle the funding for the flights for her and two grad students from LAX to New Zealand, and then a two-hour flight from Auckland to the Chatham Islands Tuuta Airport on a propeller plane. She’d negotiated lodging for three weeks, per diems for food, and most importantly, a permit to tag white pointers—or great white sharks as the Americans liked to call them—around Chatham. All she had to do was agree to be filmed by Len Moreland. It seemed a small price to pay.

Thanks for the ride, Jim, Gabe said as the car pulled up in front of