Laiyla hadn’t thought she could feel any worse, but the condition of the houseboats was atrocious.
“Cecelia Rose’s got plumbing issues,” he went on. “Theresa Rene is being used for storage of water equipment, and Georgie Pie has cracked tanks.” They reach the end of the dock, and he faces the last boat in line with his hands on his hips. “Roxie Blue.” He nods, pulls a toothpick from a pocket, and sticks it into his mouth. “I reckon y’all could stay on Roxie Blue.”
Roxie Blue is ancient. I can’t tell where the faded paint ends and the rust begins. The canopies on the decks are torn and threadbare. “If I’m remembering correctly, this model Sunfish only has one bedroom.”
“Ah, yeah, but you got a pull-out in the salon and a screened-in porch. Plenty of room for three little fillies.”
My shoulders slump, and I close my eyes on a sigh. When I was a kid, sure, I would have thought this was a castle. But I’m not a kid. I’m thirty years old—tomorrow—and I bust my ass at work, so I have a beautiful place to live in the city and comfortable accommodations on the road. This is the furthest thing from what I envisioned for my get-together with my best friends.
“Mr. Artega,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “What happened to all the really nice boats my grandfather had? You know, the ones that were three stories with slides and big swim platforms?”
“Oh, yeah, I remember. They were nice, for sure. He fixed ’em up and sold ’em to make way for new fixer-uppers. He liked to tinker, you know. Had a lot of time on his hands.” The older man scanned the boats. “A shame, really. He passed away before he had time to start on these.”
That was just like Grandpa. Buy shitty boats, fix ’em up, and sell them. He made as much doing that as he did the rental business.
Someone squeezes my arm. Chloe, wearing a sympathetic smile.
Right beside her, KT nods, always seemingly in control. “It’s all good,” she says, then gets a playfully evil glint in her eyes and adds, “Give me a few hours with her, and she’ll feel like a yacht.”
I break out in laughter. I laugh so hard, I double over and tears spill from my eyes. I’m resting my hands on my knees when I get control of myself again, and everyone is smiling.
“Sure, okay, fine.” What the hell do I care? All I want is to be with KT and Chloe. I turn to Mr. Artega and walk him toward the parking lot. “Thank you. Will you be around this week? I’d like to get together with you and go over the condition of the property.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He squeezes my hand and gives me a warm smile. “Sure thing.”
When I return to the girls, KT’s got her arms crossed, her brow furrowed. “How’d these boats get their names?”
I smile. “They’re all named after one of my grandfather’s many girlfriends.”
“That is your first order of business,” KT says. “Change these old-lady names.”
“Oh,” Chloe says, “we should totally give them amazing names, like Trinity and Sat Nam.”
“Sat what?” I say.
“Don’t ask,” KT says. “Just don’t ask.”
4
Levi
I drag myself into Aiden’s Pub and search out Mitch. The place is busy with the dinner rush, but my partner is easy to find. He’s always got the rear corner booth.
As I approach, someone behind me catches my arm, and I turn to face Tina, most definitely one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made. I deliberately pull away and put as much room between us as possible.
“Hey.” I purposely don’t fake a smile. This woman will turn everything back on me in a heartbeat, and I can’t express how disappointed I am to see her in town after only three weeks away. “You’re back.”
“Yep.” She gives me that cute smile, the one that’s got dirty undertones. “Dad’s up and about again.”
“Good to hear.” I turn away and start toward Mitch, praying she lets it drop.
“Sam Adams?”
I cringe and cut a look over my shoulder.
“I’ve got your table with Mitch,” she says.
I’m just so fuckin’ lucky today, I can’t stand it. “Sam Adams.”
I’m rolling my eyes when I slide into the booth opposite Mitch, who’s smirking.
“Shut the hell up.” I drop the folder of invoices on the table.
Mitch shakes his head. “She may be pretty on the outside, but she’s batshit crazy on the inside. I told you and told you and told you.”
Mitch had, but I’d had an unusually long dry spell, way too much alcohol, and just wanted a warm body. That one-time fuck has been costing me for nearly a year. And, no, it hadn’t been worth it. “I really don’t want to hear that the rest of my life, dude. It was one time.”
Mitch gives me a look that tells me he’s trying to puzzle me out. “Other than Tina, what’s buggin’ you?”
Tina drops off the beer with a flourish. She leans her hip against the table and twirls a piece of her long, dirty-blonde hair around her finger. “I’d love to get together. When can we make that happen?”
“It won’t happen. We’ve been over this. It will never happen.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” Tina puts her hand out, wiggling her fingers. “You owe me twenty bucks and a twelve-pack of Firestone Walker IPA.”
I was drunk when I made that bet too. It was after Otto died and everyone in town was both reeling from the loss and worried about the future of such a big, valuable piece of land in their community.
Disgusted, angry, I lean back and reach for my wallet, but Mitch slaps the table. “No.”
His bark is all for Tina, but she snarls right back. “A bet is a bet, and he lost—I knew the ice princess would come back someday, even if it was only to sell the place. I’d be willing to go double or nothing, but we’d have to renegotiate those terms. Let’s guess how long she’ll stay. That pampered princess won’t make it a week.” She leans in with an all-knowing expression. “Even if you rekindle things, she’ll just dump you again. If you expect a princess to settle in a commoner’s village for a man, you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Mitch says.
“Terry, from the market, told me two out-of-towners came in and were talking about the marina and seeing Laiyla.”
Mitch’s jaw drops. I ignore the burn of his gaze. All I can think about is the look on Laiyla’s face when she heard about Otto’s cabin.
“I’m not doing this.” I pull out my wallet and look through the fold. “Shit. I don’t have a twenty.” I look at Mitch. “Spot me, man. I want this over.”
“You’re not getting any money here,” Mitch tells Tina. “Now get the fuck away from this table and stay away, or I’ll have a private talk with Craig, and you’ll be out of a job.”
God damn, I love this man.
“You oughta tell that wifey of yours you need more sex,” she says to Mitch, “or better sex.”