"Hey, Wendy, be right with you soon as I get Mrs. Hubbard's order here." The young man behind the counter waved her way as she walked down the main aisle of the Marina store.

"No problem, Jim, take your time." She was looking for the weatherproof caulking; one of the windows had a draft and, with winter coming, she needed to get it fixed. Maintaining a boat took a lot of time and effort, but the rocking of the water was worth it, even when the cold seeped up through the boards. Taking a left and winding through the overstocked shelves, she made her way to the back, picking her way past the bins of nails and brads. She got distracted on the way, picked up a small basket and started dropping odds and ends into it as she found them.

"And what have we here?" He was rummaging in her basket before she could stop him. "Rope. Oh, very nice choice of high-resistant shackles. Should withstand just about anything."

"What the hell are you doing?" She demanded in a whisper, glancing around to see who was in sight, and then really looking at him. He was in snug jeans and a black Henley under a leather jacket; where had he picked up that, she wondered.

"I believe it's called working. They pay me for it. Not much, but enough." He caught her arm with his hand and pulled her even further back into the recesses of the cluttered store. "Seems all that sailing experience was useful after all." Pressing her back into the corner, he stole a quick kiss before she pushed him back.

"There are people here. People I know." She couldn't deny that there was something a little exciting about the possibility of someone seeing his hand catch the material of her skirt and begin to bunch it up.

"No one comes back here. Look at all the dust," he snagged her coat with his hook and pulled her against him, lips tasting the curve of her neck, causing her breath to hitch.

"I came back here," she protested, but only half-heartedly as the warmth of his hand touched the skin of her thigh; she splayed her hands on his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt beneath her fingertips. "The point was to pretend to woo me, not push me against the wall at the first chance."

"Woo?" As he laughed against her skin, the brush of his beard, even trimmed, was enough to make her shiver and heat pool between her legs. "What a wonderful word. Shall I woo you until you beg for more?"

The voices came from one aisle over. "No, Mrs. Hubbard, I'm afraid you can't return the stain after you've put it on the deck. I will be glad to give you a discount on a new color if you'd like to make a change. Again."

"Killian," Wendy whispered as his hand continued its upward slide to the curve of her buttocks, stroking along the silky edge of her underwear. "You are such a pirate …" He cut her off with his lips, an open mouthed tasting that caused her whole body to flush with need.

"Now you look flustered and upset," he murmured, as he pushed back; Jim and an older black woman came around the end cap filled with cleaning supplies, so Wendy tried to pull herself together, but it was difficult when she could still feel the impression of his fingers and the scratches of his stubble.

"Wendy," Jim came to her side, leaving Mrs. Hubbard to watch them suspiciously. "I'm sorry. I didn't know he was here. I would have warned you." Concern colored his eyes, and Wendy could see he was worried about her.

"It's alright. We were talking about my brothers." She was sure she was blushing and could only imagine that her face spoke volumes about what she was feeling. "Killian … Hook saw them not long before he left Neverland."

At the dark look Jim sent his way, Killian backed off, a charming grin that Wendy knew all too well on his face. "Well, I have a work to do. Put the supplies on the Marina's tab, would you?" He winked at Mrs. Hubbard, who actually tittered at the attention, then raised Wendy's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Ladies," he bowed to them both before he left.

"Why did Regina hire him?" Jim complained. "I can't imagine trusting him to manage the harbor."

"I don't know," Mrs. Hubbard said, a hint of interest in her eyes. "He's very charming. Reminds me of my John. If I were a few years younger. . ."

"You have no idea what he is."

Wendy picked the caulk off the shelf and dropped it into her basket. "We could say that about any of us, Jim Hawkins. I think we all deserve the benefit of the doubt, don't you?" She turned back towards the register. "Can you ring me up? I've got a puppy that's probably making a mess as we speak."

As a start to their little charade, it wasn't a bad start. Not bad at all.