Chapter 4

Fisher

"Thanks for the ride, man."

"No problem." Sawyer slowed the Regal cruiser as we neared Hudson's houseboat anchored a few miles down the shoreline from town. It bobbed peacefully in a quieter spot not accessible by dock. Along its side, the name Over 8 Inches was painted in blue.

The name was a fisherman's reference to the size of a good catch, but my mind went directly to the gutter. I wonder what else might be Over 8 Inches?

Sawyer flashed me a grin. "If I'm late for my booze cruise pickup, make sure Hudson knows it's your ass on the line."

"If only," I joked.

Sawyer groaned. "Walked right into that one."

Hudson emerged onto the outer deck of his houseboat. "Hey, thanks for coming out. I really should have just met you in town."

I grabbed the rungs of the ladder that extended down the stern of the boat. "Are you kidding? I'm dying to see your place."

Hudson's gaze flicked to Sawyer. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

Sawyer tipped him a two-finger salute. "Sure do, Boss. I'll swing by after the cruise to give Fisher a lift home, unless…?"

"Unless what?" Hudson said as I inwardly cringed. I joked around, but was Sawyer seriously trying to ask if I was spending the night here? Like I told him earlier, if only…

"Nothing at all," Sawyer called, reversing the boat before he could dig a deeper hole. "See you later!"

Hudson took my hand as I reached the top of the boat and pulled me aboard. For a brief moment, we stood chest to chest, eye to…well, eye to chin because Hudson was tall as hell.

I tipped my head back, meeting his gaze, and the intensity there sent a shiver down my spine. Maybe Sawyer had the right idea, and I really should go for it?

"Hi, there," I said softly. "I hope you're hungry."

He blinked. "What?"

I raised the foil-wrapped fish and chips in my right hand. "I brought dinner. Remember?"

"Oh." He cleared his throat and stepped back. "Right. Let me give you some cash for that."

"Not necessary."

Hudson was already reaching for his wallet, as if I were some sort of delivery boy. I placed a hand on his arm. "Hudson, I got it covered."

"Sorry." He smiled sheepishly at my stern tone. "You're here to help me. It just feels like I should be the one buying you dinner."

"Well, you can return the favor another time," I said lightly.

"Okay." He stepped away instead of taking the bait and asking me out, dang it. "Let me just clear some space for us to eat and work."

Hudson stepped through the doors leading to the interior, ducking his head to avoid hitting the frame. I followed, eager to see how he lived out here. Once inside, it was larger than expected and Hudson could stand up straight.

To the port side, a small formica table folded out from the wall with bench-style booth seating on either side of it. A laptop sat there, along with a folder, a few posters and brochures from events around the lake, an open notebook with a list of notes scribbled in pen—the handwriting so small and cramped it was tough to read—and a chipped blue coffee mug with a big picture of a bass on one side.

Hudson continued on into a narrow, galley-style kitchen and opened his refrigerator. "Want a drink?"

"Sure, I'll take a beer if you've got one."

"Corona okay?"

"Sure."

"How do you feel about lime?"

"Hmm, tough question. I've never given my feelings for lime a lot of thought. Not sure I'm ready to define our relationship."

Hudson chuckled. "Can you at least say you're on friendly terms?"

"Yeah, I'd say I'm in a very friendly mood."

And not just with lime.

Judging by the red creeping up the back of Hudson's neck, he could read between the lines.

"I'll cut some lime wedges then. I've got all my plans, such as they are, over at the table. Why don't you set out the food while I do this?"

"Sounds good."

I knew I shouldn't flirt with Hudson. I'd been trying it for years with no success. I'd heard through the gossip mill that he hooked up with tourists, and not just female ones, which added fuel to my fantasies. But I'd never seen him involved with anyone local.

And that was all without considering the animosity between him and my dad.

I was pretty much screwed, and I knew it, but for some stupid reason, I couldn't kill my crush. It wasn't just that he was basically a fantasy come to life with his big, powerful body that could manhandle me, soulful eyes, and a sexy smile that sent sparks straight to my balls.

He was also genuinely nice. Every time we spoke, he really listened to me in a way no one else did. I just wished he'd see me as a man, instead of a boy. Then maybe I'd actually get somewhere.

I cleared the table enough to make room for our two servings of fish and chips, and Hudson joined me with the beers and a small bowl of lime wedges, our knees bumping under the table as we sat down.

"This is great," Hudson said as he dug in. "It's been a while since I've had it, so thanks."

Red Hot Cod Pieces was a food cart serving up fried fish and chips, and the seasoning was on point.

"Mm. Do you cook here? I noticed a grill on the deck, but I see you eating out a lot in town."

Hudson wiped his mouth with a napkin. "I do okay with the grill, but a lot of nights I'm just too tired to bother. Besides, I figure The Rusty Hook and Catch of the Day can use the business, especially in the offseason."

My heart swelled. That was just like Hudson to care about our local business owners, even when they gave him a hard time.

"Is that why you're doing this event?" I asked. "To help our small businesses? Because it didn't really look like they wanted the help all that much."

"Ouch." Hudson rubbed a big hand over his broad chest. "I thought you were here to make me feel better, not worse."

"Oh, I can make you feel good if you want," I teased. "I thought you might need honesty though."

He smirked. "Can't I have both?"

My heart skipped. Was Hudson flirting back? Hell, yeah.

"You know I'd give you anything," I said. "You don't even have to ask."

His eyes searched mine for a long, tense moment. My body heated from the inside out under that gaze. Just as the surging of my blood threatened to give me a very uncomfortable situation in my pants, Hudson broke eye contact. He lifted his beer for a drink. His lips were shiny and wet when he lowered the bottle, doing absolutely nothing to dampen the desire swamping me.

"Uh, so let's talk about this event then," he said, "and you can be as honest as you like."

I blinked back to reality. For a moment there, I'd gotten swept away in the fantasy of being with Hudson. There was just a look in his eye that made me think…

I shook the thought away. I was here to help him with a project, not nurture my obsession with the man.

"Let's hear it."

Hudson

Fisher and I finished dinner, and for the next hour I went over the details of the Dock Hop with him. "I'm basing it off these poker run events, with a few alterations. There would be a scavenger search at each stop, requiring people to stay and look around. Once they find the item, they're entered for a prize and get a token. At the end, they can submit all the tokens for a grand prize."

Fisher scanned one of the event flyers I'd handed him. "So you need business owners to offer a prize?"

"Well, they also need to contribute to the grand prize."

"Which is?"

"I'm thinking a three-night stay at the Treehouse BB, a six-hour leisure boat cruise around the lake, and possibly a few gift certificates to restaurants and pubs in the area."

"Hmm, I don't know, Mr. Nash. Your favoritism for Swallow Cove is showing in this grand prize."

I grinned sheepishly, liking the way Fisher was calling me out tonight. He'd always been sweet and friendly, but this was the first time I got to see his feisty side.

And his flirty side. He'd shown that a few times too, not that I should be noticing.

"I do have a soft spot for Swallow Cove," I admitted. "But the few folks I've talked to about it aren't exactly thrilled. Maybe I'm wasting my time."

"Hey, no." Fisher stood and joined me on my side of the table, body pressing in close as he laid a hand on my arm. Goosebumps prickled my skin at his touch. "It's a good idea. You know how people around here are."

"They hate me, you mean?" My chuckle had a raw edge, and damn, what was this guy doing to me? My emotions were never this close to the surface, but suddenly, I wanted to cry in my damn beer over the mean business owners in Swallow Cove? Ridiculous.

"They don't hate you," Fisher said. "Well, my dad hates you, but the rest don't. I definitely don't."

My heart quickened. I should not be so damn glad to hear that, but I was.

"People are just scared of change," Fisher continued, apparently unaware of how he was affecting me. "They don't really like the tourism, but they need it. Some of them want to stick their heads in the sand, but I think what you're doing is important."

"Thanks."

"I just don't know why you're doing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Your business isn't really dependent on Swallow Cove, right? You pick up people all around the lake."

"Well, we do a bit of that, but our home base is Swallow Cove." I hesitated, wondering how much I wanted to reveal. "This is home. Even if some folks wish it wasn't my home—"

"Don't," Fisher said softly. "I'm really glad it's your home."

I met his gaze, dark blue with emotion, full of unspoken truths that hit me in the pit of my stomach. I sucked in a breath, caught off-guard by how deeply his words burrowed under my skin.

"Fish—"

His lips collided with mine.

It was sudden and clumsy, but it still sent a frisson of excitement through me. My heart kicked so hard I wondered if he might give me a heart attack.

That thought sobered me. I was too old for this young, vibrant, gorgeous guy.

His tongue feathered over my bottom lip, a small whimper of need escaping his mouth.

I broke the kiss, even though it was damn hard. "Wait. Stop."

Fisher leaned in toward me eagerly for a second more, his eyes wide and fogged with lust. Then my words landed with a thud and he jerked back.

"We can't do this," I said as gently as I could.

"Sorry, I thought…" Fisher blushed bright red and scrambled from the booth, nearly falling on his ass. "I'm stupid."

"No." I followed him from the booth. "There's just a lot of reasons it would be a bad idea."

Fisher nodded, no longer meeting my eyes.

"You're a great guy," I added, desperate to salvage this moment in some way. I hated the look of embarrassment and disappointment on his face. "If things were different—"

Suddenly, he looked straight at me, a fierceness to his eyes that nearly knocked me on my ass. "What would it take? Is it my age?"

"You're very young," I said cautiously. "And your dad would have my balls if I messed with you."

"Messed? Is that what you'd be doing?" he challenged.

"I don't date, Fisher. I figured out I make a shitty partner when I was married. Even if dating you was a good idea, and it's not, I learned my lesson years ago."

"Fine, so don't date me." He moved closer, the sweet scent of his sweat a temptation I didn't need. "Just fuck me."

Oh, damn.My cock liked the sound of that. My blood rushed south, and I swallowed hard, wondering if I had the self-restraint to resist a no-strings offer like that.

If it was just sex, I didn't have to worry about being a bad partner. Didn't have to worry about our age difference or Boone's reaction. I could just enjoy a beautiful man.

"I want you to be my first," Fisher said into the tense silence between us. "I want it to be you."

Shock hit me like a cold bucket of water.

"You're a virgin?" I choked out.

"I've been waiting for the right guy," he said, a defensive edge to his voice. "Waiting for you."

I shook my head regretfully. "I'm not the right guy, Fisher. If you think about it, you know that already."

"You want me," he said, though some of his confidence slipped. "I know you do."

"I won't be the man who hurts you."

He took a big step back, blinking hard.

"Too late," he muttered, the words a parting shot that would echo in my head the rest of the night.

In the distance, the motor of an approaching boat sounded, right on time.

"Sounds like Sawyer's just about here," Fisher said. "I should go."

"Okay."

"I'll talk to some of the business owners in town. Stop by my dad's shop in a couple of days and I'll give you an update."

"If you don't want to do that now, I'll—"

"I said I'd help, so I'll help," he said shortly. "I didn't offer just to get laid."

"No, of course not," I said, flustered. "Thank you."

"I'm happy to do it," he said, sounding completely sincere. "I know you see me as a kid, and the virgin thing doesn't help, but the fact is, I'm an adult. Maybe someday you'll realize that."

He slipped out the doors to the outer deck before I found a response. I let him go, figuring he'd want the space.

I'd done the right thing. I couldn't offer him anything except a great night in bed. Fisher deserved better than that. It wasn't his virginity that stopped me, but the realization he'd been waiting for something special.

And no matter how much I wanted him, that wasn't me.

That didn't stop the regrets from swamping me. Didn't stop me from replaying his words, too late, after I said I didn't want to hurt him.

Didn't prevent the what-if fantasies from playing out in my head as I licked my lips, tasting the last traces of his kiss.

I was sure I'd done the right thing, but as I headed to my empty, lonely bed, it sure didn't feel like it.