Chapter 16

Fisher

Hudson:

Meet up at same place tonight?

Fisher:

If by place, you mean your bed, I'm there. I might even edge you this time ;)

Hudson:

You think the student can surpass the master?

Fisher:

I think the student will ace this test

Hudson:

You have so much to learn lol

Fisher:

Hey! Have I not been edging you all day?

Hudson:

Touche.

"Fisher!"Dad called out from his office, making me jump and nearly drop my phone. I was counting the hours until I got to meet up with Hudson again, and teasing the crap out of him was my new favorite pastime. "Do we have any more pallets of bottled water in the back?"

"I'll check!"

I stepped into the stockroom and walked past the crates of paper towels and boxes of snack foods to find our inventory of bottled water. While I was there, I checked a few of the more popular sodas and energy drinks as well, recording the numbers on my phone to give to Dad.

I couldn't help but think about what we weren't offering while I did it. We had the basics covered, but we could do so much more.

I reached into my shorts pocket and fingered the list I'd printed out, just one of several pages I'd done for my business class project.

I'd been thinking a lot since Scott bought me that beer and asked me about becoming a local representative for the resort project.

Thinking about how much more I had to offer. About how it was time to tell Dad, really make him hear, my ideas.

I went to Dad's open office door and tapped it to get his attention. He grunted in reply. "Well?"

He had a ledger open in front of him, the single computer on his desk dark. I fought not to roll my eyes. The man insisted on doing everything he could by hand. He ordered new stock with the computer, and our fuel tanks were on an automated system—because there wasn't much choice—but he wasn't a fan of technology.

He swore by his handwritten logs and a system that only he understood. I was a close second, being here so often, but not even I could make sense of it all.

I rattled off the inventory numbers I'd just taken, so he could write them down.

"Hey, since you're making plans for inventory, I wanted to run an idea by you for some orders we could make for the Dock Hop."

It took him a minute to drag his eyes from the ledger in front of him. Then his forehead furrowed. "Dock Hop?"

"The big boating run that's going to bring tourists to more remote areas of the lake?"

It seemed best not to mention Hudson in relation to it, but Dad scowled anyway. "I don't have anything to do with that."

"I signed us up as a participating business."

"Well, unsign us up," he said bluntly. "There's no point in it. We get our business from the folks who know what they need. These tourists are gonna come through for their silly game and prizes, then never come back."

"Dad, the whole point is to show them what they're missing so they'll come back!" He made a scoffing noise, and I rushed on, sensing the time limit for this discussion was closing fast. "And even if they don't, we could get a nice boost during the event."

Thousands of people turned out for The Shootout boat racing event in the Ozarks. This would be nowhere near that scale, but it had the potential to bring hundreds of new people into Swallow Cove. And if it became an annual event, it could grow each year.

Dad shook his head. "Look, maybe if we ran one of the restaurants, but these folks aren't all that interested in bait and tackle. We might sell extra drinks, sure, but they can get those anywhere."

He'd given me the opening I needed to pitch my idea.

"This event is the perfect time to diversify our inventory and offer more things that help us stand out."

I pulled the list from my pocket and gave it to him.

He scanned it. "High-tech gadgets and a bunch of lake toys and souvenirs." He tossed the list down in disgust. "Are you kidding me with this? We're a lake supply store. We're here to give folks what they need, not sell a bunch of overpriced crap to idiots with more money than brains."

He went back to the ledger, effectively dismissing me.

"I think you're making a mistake," I said, unwilling to give up that easily. "Our store is often the only place people stop during a day spent out on the lake. We could be a one-stop shop for them if we offered more selection. Swallow Cove is small and has limited offerings, but that means there's a void we can fill with more sporting goods—both for fishing and for playing on the lake. You need to start thinking beyond old-school fishermen, Dad. I've researched the demographics of the people visiting the lake and what they want, and there's a lot of opportunity here."

"I heard you," he said, "but when I want advice on how to run my business, I'll ask for it."

"You're the one who paid for me to take business classes."

"Something I'm beginning to regret," he muttered.

That hurt. "What did you expect? That I wouldn't learn anything? That I wouldn't have a single opinion about running the business? What was the point, Dad, if all you want is an employee to do menial tasks?"

"Fisher…"

I shook my head, eyes stinging. "You know, you might not think I have any good ideas, but other people see what I have to offer."

"Like who? Hudson?"

That threw me for a loop. I didn't think Dad had any clue we were hooking up, and this wasn't about Hudson, anyway.

"No, that's not—"

"That man's just saying whatever he needs to get you to help him with this cockamamie event."

"This is not about Hudson," I insisted.

He frowned, forehead creasing. "Then what is this all about, Fisher? I don't understand why this event is so damned important."

"It's not about the event. It's about my future. I didn't take all those business classes to package lures and sweep floors, Dad! I want to take our store into the future."

There were so many things we could do that I hadn't even mentioned. We could expand to include charging stations for electric boats. There were more of them on the lake every year, and it if we got on the leading edge of the technology, we'd draw the owners directly to us. We could create an app so folks can order what they need and pick it up at the dock without leaving their boat.

"You've just got to be patient, son. It's not the future yet."

"But it is," I argued. "You're living in the past."

His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared, a sure sign I'd hit a nerve.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped. "It's foolishness to chase idealistic dreams that won't pan out."

"Just because you failed in your dreams doesn't mean—"

"That's enough," he bellowed, face red. "If you don't like how I run my business, you can leave!"

Shock hit me. "You want me to quit?"

"No," he said. "Just…clock out early and cool off. Let's both just…stop before we say something we regret."

"Too late."

I closed the office door behind me, heart heavy, and left the store. It was like walking out of my own home. I'd worked there in some capacity since before I'd been able to reach the counter without standing on a stool.

I slumped back against the store, hurt and indignation growing as I replayed the argument in my head. It was a few trial items to stock for a special event. If Dad wouldn't even do that, he'd never listen to me about anything significant.

I'd be nothing but a glorified employee until he retired—which could be decades from now.

Another text came in from Hudson.

Tonight can't come soon enough.

Just minutes ago, I'd been happily flirting with him, anticipating our night together. Now I just wanted to get out of my head.

Fisher:

What if we didn't have to wait?

Hudson:

What do you mean?

Fisher:

Play hookie with me? I can be at your office in ten.

It was reckless to meet him there, maybe, but I didn't care. Hudson must have been on the same page.

Hell yeah. Get over here.

Hudson

Fisher's text couldn't have come at a better time.

I closed out of my accounting software with relief. Nothing there was making me feel great about the future of Swallow Adventures. There was a reason my investor was breathing down my neck. I'd put him off for the moment, but as soon as he saw the latest numbers, he'd be back to hounding me about finding a more profitable location.

Five years was supposed to be the magic milestone where everything took off and you reaped the rewards of your investment.

We were getting by. Without relocating or expanding our services—and spreading myself even thinner—we couldn't do much better. Not in Swallow Cove. Not as things stood.

The Dock Hop might boost our numbers enough for Addison to give me more time. But it was just one event.

The knock at the office door was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard. I hopped out of my chair and practically skipped across the room.

Fisher stepped straight into my arms, and nothing had ever felt so good. "Hey, you."

"Hey."

He sounded off somehow. I drew back to look at him more closely. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine. Just kiss me."

It didn't sit right. Fisher always had a brightness to him. It was what drew me in initially, that light, that warmth.

I couldn't see it. Couldn't feel it.

Still, I wouldn't refuse him. I bent to kiss him, my mouth gentle. Fisher gripped my shoulders, fingers digging in, mouth opening in a sweet invitation.

I got lost in the taste and feel of him, swept up by the kiss, but Fisher kept pushing. He pushed my shirt up and pulled at the ties on my board shorts. "Let me blow you right here," he said. "In your office. I can kneel under the desk. It'll be hot."

"Fisher, wait…"

He cupped my cock through the fabric, and damn, my body was betraying me. But this wasn't how I wanted tonight to go. I didn't want a quickie with Fisher in my office, as hot as that might be.

I wanted him in my bed again. If we got off here and now, what reason would I have to take him back to my place? To sleep with him in my arms? I couldn't ask for that, not when this was supposed to be sex-only. But after days without him, I craved it.

He reached for my waistband, and I caught his wrist. "Hold up a minute."

He huffed an annoyed breath. "What's the problem?"

"You." At his indignant look, I added more gently, "Something's wrong. What is it?"

He stepped back, raking a hand through his hair. "Shit. I'm ruining this."

"You're not ruining anything."

"I had a shit day, but you don't want to hear about that. That's not why we hook up. This is supposed to be fun."

Now I was a little indignant. "I can be more than fun, Fish."

He chewed his lip, gazing at me uncertainly, and I realized he didn't think he could talk to me. And after keeping him at arm's length for days, why would he?

It was just one more reminder of why I'd make a shitty partner.

"This is casual, but we're still friends," I said. "If you've got something that's bothering you, I want you to talk to me. I'm here for you."

He slumped into the chair in front of my desk. "I had a fight with my dad."

I crouched in front of him, taking his hands in mine. I didn't want this to feel like a business meeting with me behind my desk or looming over him.

"Tell me what happened. If it was about us—"

"It wasn't."

I nodded. "Either way, you can talk to me."

"I feel stupid for being so upset over it. I don't know. I just had an idea for the store, and he shot me down. But he always shoots down my ideas. Not just this one. Anything different or new is a no-go with him."

I squeezed his hands. "He seems pretty set in his ways."

I didn't know Boone well. He'd made sure of that. But even I had noticed in my five years in Swallow Cove that nothing ever changed at his store.

I didn't mind it. There was a comfort in knowing what to expect. But then, it was Fisher who drew me to the store most often, not the inventory. His friendly smiles, his upbeat energy and enthusiasm.

If Boone killed that, it would be a damn shame.

"He's so freaking stubborn," Fisher said. "I just don't think he'll ever listen to me." He looked at me, eyes bleak. "What if he never respects my ideas? What if he never gives me a say in anything? What am I even doing there?"

"You're being a good son," I said.

"What if I want to be more than a good son? What if I want to be my own man?"

My chest tightened, his words hitting a little closer to home than he could possibly know. "Family is complicated, Fish. I learned the hard way that you have to make your own happiness. You can't live to please someone else."

He gave me a searching look. "Is that why you don't have relationships?"

"No." I hesitated. "Well, partly, I guess. My marriage ended badly, and I was mostly to blame for that. But I was talking about my career. I worked for my father-in-law, and I hated every minute of it, and I let that hate poison me. Misery is like a virus. It'll spread to all parts of your life. You don't want that. Trust me."

"What did you do? Before you were a boat captain."

"I managed the manufacture and distribution of boat parts at my father-in-law's company in Olympia, Washington."

Fisher shook his head. "That doesn't sound like you at all. You belong outside, on the water. You love it."

"I do," I admitted. "What about you? What do you love?"

My heart skipped a beat, even though I wasn't asking him if he loved me. Maybe a part of me feared he'd say he did. Or even wanted him to say it.

It was selfish to want that, knowing I had so little to offer in return.

"I love turning ideas into a reality," Fisher said after a minute of thought. "I love the work I've done on the Dock Hop."

"You're good at it," I said.

"I'm going to business school, and I want to pursue new opportunities. I want to be an entrepreneur, you know? If Dad wants only a store employee, then…maybe I have to explore other options."

"Maybe you do," I said gently.

He exhaled. "It's going to suck if I leave. Dad will be upset, and I'll feel like a shitty son."

"It's never easy to put yourself first, but you deserve to be happy. Whatever that looks like."

"How did you do it?"

I smiled grimly. "I didn't. My wife filed for a divorce."

"Oh." He tensed and pulled his hands from mine. "Do you, uh…still love her?"

"No."

"Nevermind. I shouldn't have asked."

He stood up, and so did I, gripping his shoulders and looking straight into his eyes.

"I was a coward, Fish. That's why I didn't leave until I was pushed. That's why my marriage disintegrated and I didn't try harder to fix it. I stuck my head in the sand, and I avoided the hard choices. Choices like the one you'll have to make. You're twenty years younger and already so much smarter than me."

"I'm not."

I squeezed his shoulders. "You really are. You fucking amaze me, don't you know that?"

He looked so surprised I had to kiss him.

Then kiss him again.

When he opened that sweet mouth, a broken sound of need escaping, I drank it down greedily. These kisses felt right. Cleansing, even.

Thinking about my failed marriage always came with a heavy dose of guilt, but relief replaced it. Maybe the guilt was like a poison too, and I'd let a small bit of it out by sharing with Fisher.

I broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Come back to my place for the night? I want to do this properly. More than once."

He groaned. "Please, yes."

I kissed him again, unable to resist, then forced myself to step away and collect my keys so we could head out.

"Hud?" he said, sounding tentative.

I turned. "What is it?"

His eyes were serious, a little sad. "Thank you for listening."

"Of course."

"Maybe you wouldn't be so terrible at being a boyfriend after all, huh?"

I gaped. "I just told you that I destroyed my marriage."

"Well, I know you think you did. I've yet to hear any real evidence."

"Fish…"

"I'm not saying you should date me," Fisher said.

Why did those words sting? It was good we were on the same page.

Fisher continued, "I just think you should open your heart again. For your own sake. You gave me a great speech about making your own happiness. That goes for you too."

I didn't know what to say. I swallowed hard. "See? Smarter than me."

He smiled weakly. "If only Dad agreed."

I put my arm around him, walking us toward the door. "One day, he will. Don't give up on him just yet. He's still your dad."

"Yeah." Fisher laughed then. "Maybe he'd hate you a little less if he could hear you now, huh? Hudson Nash saying nice things about Boone Riggins. That has to be a record."

"Hey, now. He hated on me first."

"You stole his dream," Fisher said.

"By accident!"

"You know really, this whole predicament is your fault. The cruiseline was his retirement plan. The store would be mine by now…"

I looked down at him, horrified, to see the little shit laughing at me.

"I'm kidding," he said. "But your face, oh my god."

I dipped down to bite his neck, making him gasp. "I'm going to enjoy making you regret that."

He gazed up at me, his eyes hot. "I'd like to see you try."