Chapter 5

Fisher

"What areyou doing here so late?"

Brooks's nosy question made me roll my eyes. "I'm not here by choice, that's for sure."

Sawyer had taken one look at me when I came off Hudson's houseboat and promptly called a friend intervention. A friendervention, I'd dubbed it a couple of years ago, but that was when we were frienderventing Cash. It was less funny when my friends were gathering the forces to confront me.

Brooks raised an eyebrow at Sawyer, who leaned against The Rusty Hook's bar beside me. "Should I ask why you're dragging Fish here so late?"

"I'm not a child," I said sullenly.

Brooks and Sawyer ignored my muttering.

"We're meeting up with everyone. Can you take a break and join us?"

Brooks surveyed the interior of the pub, gaze catching on the same slender blond guy I'd seen in here the other night. "Yeah, I could use a break, actually. What's going on?"

"A friendervention."

I scowled. Nope. I definitely did not appreciate my own joke being used against me.

"I'll grab a pitcher and join you in a minute," Brooks offered.

"That sounds great," Sawyer said.

"That sounds great," I mimicked in a falsetto tone.

Sawyer nudged me as we crossed the pub toward the only open table in the center of the room. Great. My humiliation could be on display for the whole town to see.

"C'mon. You know we just care about you," Sawyer said.

I sighed. "You could have given me a day or two to wallow, you know? Interventions are meant as a last resort."

"You've been wallowing for the better part of a year." Poppy announced her arrival with one of those little gems of wisdom she liked to dispense.

"Have not."

She scoffed. "You know the whole reason you took that trip to see your cousin in Granville last fall was because you were sulking over the gossip about Hudson hooking up with that loud-mouthed tourist."

I grimaced. That had been a particularly difficult time for me. I'd still been living in my bedroom in my parents' main house, feeling smothered, while burning the candle at both ends to keep up with my business courses and work. And then Hudson had called me kid with barely a second glance.

I'd needed to get away and find a fresh perspective. And I had. I'd come home and told my parents that I was an adult and needed my own space. We'd converted the space above the garage into a more proper apartment. I'd adjusted my school and work hours to give myself a little breathing space. And I'd told myself I'd move on from my crush to dating a real guy.

Two out of three wasn't bad, right?

Cash arrived, looking as if he'd rolled straight out of bed, which he probably had. Since it wasn't yet ten p.m., I was pretty sure he hadn't been sleeping.

Brooks was right behind him. He set a pitcher of beer down in the center of the table and began passing out cups. "All right, I don't know how long I'll be free. I assume this has something to do with Hudson?"

I huffed. "It could be something else."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is it?"

I slumped down a little farther in my chair, my bottom lip sticking out. "No."

Pouting like a little kid probably wasn't the best way to show my friends I could handle my own life. But maybe I couldn't. Kissing Hudson had been incredibly stupid. Sure, I'd thought we'd had a moment. I thought he'd moved into the kiss at first.

I'd seen the interest flare in his eyes—and watched it die when I told him I was a virgin.

Rookie mistake.

"So, what happened tonight?" Sawyer prompted. "When you came off Hudson's houseboat you looked…" He hesitated and shook his head. "Heartbroken."

"I don't really want to talk about it," I said, raising my glass to take a fortifying swallow of beer. This was looking like it was going to be a long night.

"Did you fuck him?" Cash asked bluntly.

I spluttered on my drink, choking as I inhaled some of it, rather than swallowing it. After a few minutes of coughing, while Brooks smacked my back, I managed to answer. "No."

"Something happened," Sawyer said.

I didn't answer, which with my closest friends, was answer enough.

"Aw, Fish," Poppy said, rubbing my arm where it rested on the table. "Did he—"

"He said nothing could happen, okay?" I blurted, unable to take the prolonged interrogation. "I finally made a move, and it failed. I made an ass of myself. Is that what you want to hear?"

All my friends stared at me with varying expressions of pity, and I thumped my forehead onto the table. "Can I go home now?"

"Not yet," Poppy said. "We need to talk about how you can find some peace. Unrequited love isn't a pretty thing."

I raised my head. "I'm not in love."

Four skeptical faces looked back at me.

"Normal crushes don't continue in the face of rejection. It's either love, or…"

"Or what?"

"Unhealthy obsession," Brooks said flatly.

I grimaced. "Well, that sounds bad. I'm not a stalker."

"Of course you're not," Poppy soothed.

Was I in love with Hudson? I didn't think so. But I liked him. Admired him. Not just his looks, but his personality. Even though my dad hated him, Hudson had never been anything but nice to me.

Over the years, my dad had fully snubbed Hudson, making me wait on him every time he came into the store. I could see that it bothered Hudson. He'd flinch when my dad's office door slammed shut. But he always had a smile for me.

Fuck. Maybe I was in love with him. It was probably some lingering puppy love though, right? Like Poppy said, unrequited love wasn't pretty.

My cheeks heated again as I remembered the way Hudson stopped the kiss. The certainty he'd enjoyed it while it lasted was little comfort, considering what came after.

I won't be the man who hurts you.

Ugh.Even his rejection was swoony.

"I want to move on," I told my friends, "but I don't know how."

"Well, that's easy," Cash said. "Just find another man to get under. Or on top of. Whatever your flavor might be."

"That's my cue to return to the bar," Brooks said, pushing back his chair. "I've got customers. Hang tough, Fish."

Cash leaned in over the table as Brooks walked away. "So, as I was saying, you need to find a cute guy and work Hudson out of your system."

"It's not that easy."

"Sure it is," he said earnestly. "You don't have to look far."

Sawyer smirked. "Are you volunteering?"

Cash's eyes widened. "What? No!"

I shook my head with a little laugh. "I'm desperate, but I'm not that desperate."

"Hey," he protested. "I'm a catch."

I raised an eyebrow. "It'd be like incest."

He wrinkled up his nose, which admittedly, was as cute as the rest of him. Maybe if we hadn't known each other since we were little kids, it would be different. Even though Cash was a few years older than me, we'd hung out because there weren't all that many young people in town.

But he was no Hudson Nash. And that was the problem, wasn't it? No one else was Hudson.

Damn, I had it bad.

"No hooking up in the friend group," Poppy said. "It'll make it weird."

"Agreed," Cash said, "but there's plenty of tourists out there. Go find someone to punch that V-card."

"Thanks," I said dryly. "Your waters run deep."

"He's got a point," Sawyer said. "You've been hung up on Hudson for way too long."

"I know," I muttered. "It's just…I know he's interested. I'm not totally off-base, right? The way he looks at me sometimes…"

"Interested or not, he refused what you were offering," Cash said. "And I don't think it's healthy to keep waiting around for something that might never happen."

"That's…oddly insightful." Poppy leaned across the table to feel Cash's forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

Cash batted her hand away. "Shut up. I can be wise!"

"He does have a lot of experience with not waiting around," Sawyer joked.

"What does that mean?" Cash asked.

Sawyer and I exchanged a look. Cash seemed to be unaware of the way his gaze followed Declan Hughes, the owner of the BB, every time they were in the same room. I didn't think it was a coincidence he met so many hookups there. Yes, it was the only BB in town, but it also paraded Cash in front of Declan.

I couldn't imagine flaunting hookups in front of Hudson, but…maybe I should flirt and date. If Hudson really was interested in me, he'd finally see what he was missing and act. And if he wasn't…well, then, it was time to cut bait, and what better way than cashing out my V-card with someone else?

Hudson

I shuffled through the expansion plan paperwork for the third time, aware that I was just procrastinating at this point. Fisher had told me to check in at his dad's store for an update in a couple of days.

It had been three.

I needed to pull up my big-boy pants and face the man—even if I felt like the gum on the bottom of someone's shoe after shutting him down after that kiss.

I slid the papers back into the blue folder. This, too, was another topic I was avoiding.

My investor approached me a few weeks ago about expanding my boating company to a second, more profitable location on the lake.

Well, no. First, he suggested I pull out of Swallow Cove and relocate entirely.

I'd said no. Swallow Cove was home, just as I'd told Fisher.

But truth was, the event I was organizing wasn't just for shits and giggles. My investor had a certain amount of sway over my decisions due to his stake in the company. I needed to demonstrate that I could bring in more revenue—one way or another.

Expanding wasn't out of the question, but it would mean managing more boats, more employees, and more locations. Not to mention splitting my time between Swallow Cove and another location.

I didn't want that—which meant I needed to stop avoiding Fisher and get back to planning the Dock Hop. It was a long shot, but if we could draw more people with a new annual event, then I could boost bookings this summer and show my investor that I was where I belonged.

Lake of the Ozarks thrived on shit like this. The Shootout boat races brought out a hundred thousand spectators. This would be on a much smaller scale, but that was better on this quieter end of the lake, anyway.

Assuming Fisher had better luck than I did in getting local businesses to sign on.

I packed up and headed out for the marina store, my heart lodged in my throat.

My lips still tingled with the kiss Fisher had laid on me.

Damn, that kiss had been sweet. But far too brief. The memory of it was elusive, teasing me as much as Fisher himself these past months. A hint of something delicious that I didn't quite get to taste.

And whose fault is that?

I docked at Bait Swallow, and I didn't have to look far for Fisher.

He was out front, with that same handsy customer as last week. Only this time, Fisher was wet, his shirt clinging to him in delicious ways, and his hair dripping down the side of his face.

The two of them held a water hose between them, wrestling over it.

I hopped out of my boat and stormed toward them, all set to rip that hose away and tell that guy where to shove it.

Halfway there, I realized Fisher was laughing.

Two-thirds of the way there, Fisher playfully put his hand to the guy's chest, lingering a moment before he pushed him.

I stuttered to a full stop before their words could reach me. Body language was more than enough.

I whirled around, neck hot, intent on escaping. I braced myself for Fisher to notice me, to call out my name, to see the jealousy in my face.

He didn't, and somehow that was even worse.

I returned to my boat and was nearly free and clear when I heard Fisher's voice. "Hudson?"

I waved a hand, feeling like the biggest idiot who'd ever lived. "Forgot something!"

Forgot something, like my fucking brain.

It turned out that when you rejected gorgeous, smart, funny men, they didn't pine for you. They didn't sigh wistfully while waiting for you to change your mind.

They moved the fuck on.

Which is a good thing,I reminded myself. It's for the best.

But that didn't stop it from feeling rotten.

I detoured out of my way to fuel up at a different station, then headed for my office at the opposite end of the marina.

For the next few hours, I operated on autopilot as I took out a business group doing some corporate team-building shit. My mind kept replaying what I'd seen out in front of Bait Swallow.

Fisher sure had baited me, hadn't he? He'd gotten me on his hook, and I couldn't shake free of the memory of another's man's hands on him.

"How long have you been a boat captain?"

I surfaced from my internal torture spiral to see one of my passengers, an attractive brunette with a Courtney Cox vibe, smile at me. The sun had brought out a dusting of freckles across her upper cheeks, and her shoulders, exposed by her tank top, had taken on a rosy glow.

"Sorry? My mind was drifting."

"Boating," she said. "I was just wondering how long you'd been living this life? It must be amazingly free."

I smiled as I gazed out on the horizon. No matter what internal turmoil I felt, there was something calming about the water. The increased boat traffic and tourists didn't bother me, either. They were all escaping their day-to-day lives to find a bit of happiness and relaxation.

I was lucky to live here year-round. Lucky to have this job.

But I wasn't free. Not of my own hangups and experiences. Those were harder to shake.

"I've been here for five years," I told her. "But I grew up going out on fishing boats with my dad."

"Do you do fishing charters too?" she asked, leaning a little closer. "I'd love some lessons."

"Afraid not. I only fish for my dinner."

"Well, maybe—" We hit a choppy bit of water and she fell half into my lap with a laugh. "Oh, shoot! Sorry. I'm so embarrassed."

I throttled down. "Sorry. You should probably return to your seat. The waves are choppy today."

She nodded. "All right. Maybe we can talk later?"

"Sure," I said, mind already wandering back to Fisher and the way that T-shirt had clung to him, transparent and outlining every muscle.

I could have appreciated the view, if not for the fact it wasn't for me. It was for him.

Whoever the hell he was.

I docked the boat, thanking the passengers and accepting their compliments—though I'd been far from the most charming of captain today with my brain only half-engaged—and started toward the office.

Sawyer was there, getting one of the boats ready for the booze cruise he'd head out on later. He raised his eyebrows at me. "Not interested?"

"What?"

"The pretty tourist back there? She was practically begging you to take her to dinner."

Was she?

We'd talked about how I fished for dinner, and how she wasn't nearly so capable and needed someone to take her to dinner, and—

Oh.Normally I wasn't so oblivious to the cues.

I glanced over my shoulder, and she was halfway down the road. I could catch up with her, but then what? I couldn't honestly muster any enthusiasm for a pretty woman when all I wanted right now was a gorgeous man.

And not any gorgeous man.

But the only one I couldn't have.

"Not interested," I confirmed for Sawyer.

"Uh-huh," he said, seeming to inject that small, throwaway word with a lot of meaning.

But for once, I didn't take the bait.

I headed inside to deal with paperwork, which had become less painful than dealing with my life.