Chapter 7

Fisher

Everyone talkedabout butterflies in their stomach when they were excited, but writhing worms had overtaken my gut by the time I made it to my date at The Savory Swallow. I was low-key nauseated. Was this how it felt to move on? If so, I wasn't a fan. Maybe I could keep my teenage crush forever.

"There you are." Noah's smooth, cultured tone cut through the buzzing in my brain. "You look great."

I took a deep breath and focused on my date. Noah could pose as a catalog model in his preppy Ralph Lauren polo and white pants. His overly styled hair rivaled that of a B-list celebrity.

I preferred Hudson's more natural wind-tossed waves.

Butwe're not thinking about Hudson tonight, Fisher.

Of course, that sent my mind directly down a rabbit hole of Hudson thoughts. I thought about how tall he was, how strong, how I could feel dwarfed by him but still incredibly safe. Hudson was larger than life, and Noah was…

Waiting for me to answer him.

"You look great too."

It wasn't a lie. Noah might be my height and on the slender side rather than brawny, but he was a good-looking guy. Plus, he was only five or six years older than me, so he had no reason to say nothing could ever happen between us.

That was good, right? Moving on was good.

The nerves in my stomach twisted a notch tighter.

Noah touched my arm, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. He cocked his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do I make you nervous?"

My cheeks heated. I probably looked like the flustered virgin I was. "Maybe a little. I don't, uh, date a whole lot."

His eyebrows went up at that. "Really? I'm sure you get offers."

I shrugged.

"Hmm." He put an arm around my waist and urged me toward the entrance. "You'll have to tell me why a hot young guy like you isn't dating every man who passes through."

"Maybe I have taste."

Noah laughed. "In that case, I feel special. Thanks for deeming me worthy."

Noah had made a reservation, so the hostess led us directly to a table next to the window. He ordered a bottle of wine before she left.

"So, what's good here?" Noah asked as he lifted the leather-bound menu embossed with the restaurant's name.

The Savory Swallow had always been a touch fancy for my taste. It was more upscale, with white tablecloths, fine china, candlelight, and ridiculous prices. I could count the number of times I'd dined here on one hand: my sixteenth birthday, my high school graduation, my parents' 25th anniversary, and the one year my mother had been too ill to cook for Thanksgiving.

"Um…" I scanned the menu. "The salmon cakes look good."

"I thought you'd be more familiar with the dishes. You live here, right?"

"I don't eat here often. It's more for formal occasions, you know?"

Noah didn't look as if he knew, but our server arrived with the wine. He uncorked it for us, then poured a glass for Noah, and turned for my glass.

"Oh, I don't drink wine."

"Try it," Noah urged. "Wine is an acquired taste. You have to give it a chance and really savor it."

I hesitated.

"It might help with those nerves," he said with a wink.

What the hell? I needed something to ease the tension that pulled my shoulders tight. I nodded to the server and accepted the glass.

I took a tentative sip and wasn't impressed, but as Noah began talking about his tech company, it began to taste better. I took a bigger gulp and a bigger one, and pretty soon I'd finished one glass and he poured me a refill.

Noah wasn't a terrible bore. He was charming, in fact. Maybe too charming. He flattered me with compliments and marveled again that I had been nervous about the date at all.

"You didn't seem too interested in me the first time we interacted," he mused. "I thought for sure you had a boyfriend."

"Nope." I gulped the wine, trying not to think about the man who'd occupied all my head space for the past few years. But that was a fail. I knew instinctively that Hudson wouldn't bring me to a restaurant like this.

He wouldn't wine and dine me. Wouldn't try to charm me.

He'd just talk to me and really listen. He'd see me.

He always had.

Problem was, he didn't like what he saw.

I took another swallow of wine and tried to focus on the man who did.

It wasn't easy, with my mind and my heart full of Hudson.

When Noah shifted to the chair beside me, when he put his hand on my thigh and leaned in to murmur softly in my ear, I fought the urge to tense up and push him away.

I smiled, let the wine soften me, let it lower my guard and open me up to new experiences.

Noah would take me home. He wouldn't tell me to stop when we kissed.

But suddenly, I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Hudson was a gentleman. Hudson was who I wanted. Maybe this had all been a big mistake.

Sex wasn't some magical solution to ending my crush on Hudson. I couldn't go through man after man like Cash.

"Fisher, did you hear me?"

"Hmm?"

Noah chuckled. "That wine really hit you, huh?"

"I guess it did."

Noah brushed his fingers over the back of my neck. It sent tingles rushing over my skin, but I didn't want them. Didn't want him.

"You're unbearably cute right now," he told me. "I can't wait to get out of here."

Neither could I, but for an entirely different reason.

I needed some air, some space. Needed to think about what to do about Hudson.

Because this crush wasn't going anywhere.

Hudson

Declan met me outside The Savory Swallow. "What's the special occasion?"

"No occasion," I said. "Just felt like a change of pace."

I was much more likely to eat at The Rusty Hook and Catch of the Day. They were both a little more casual, which I preferred, even if one of them did torture me with the sight of Fisher with his friends pretty regularly.

He was like a mirage: I knew I shouldn't chase it, knew it was just an appealing image that would evaporate if I ever did reach it, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

"We could have just grilled at your place," Declan said as he walked into the restaurant and waited at the hostess stand. "Surely, that's better than this tourist trap."

Declan wasn't the biggest fan of people in general, so I wasn't surprised by his attitude.

"I'm craving something else tonight."

I scanned the room until I caught sight of Fisher and his date.

That Noah schmuck was looking far too smug for my liking. Arrogant too. Like he was a rich, handsome man with a gorgeous date.

All true, dammit.

Beside me, Declan huffed. "I see exactly what you're craving."

"Hmm?"

He poked me in the side. "Did you really bring me here to spy on Fisher Riggins?"

"Shhh," I urged as the hostess approached. "We're just eating dinner. It's no big deal."

"You're buying my meal then."

"Sure, sure." My eyes were so fixed on Fisher—and the schmuck Noah's hand on his arm—that I almost let the hostess lead us right to a table within clear view of his.

I didn't want Fisher to see me and think I was spying. I wasn't. I was just…making sure his date treated him right. You couldn't be too careful with these tourists. They came here on vacation and treated it like a freaking Rumspringa, boating while drunk, flashing people, hooking up willy-nilly as if life's consequences didn't exist because they were on vacation.

"Wait," I told the hostess. "Can we sit at the bar? I'm not really dressed for fine dining."

That much was true. Delcan was wearing nice navy slacks and a button-down, but I'd rashly decided to call in a reservation without returning home to change. As a result I was rocking board shorts and a gray T-shirt with the Swallow Adventures logo on it.

She hesitated. "If that's what you'd prefer."

"Please."

"I don't prefer it," Declan grumbled as he trailed along.

"You're getting a free dinner, and it isn't cheap, so suck it up, buttercup."

He sighed and shook his head. "You're hopeless."

That was probably true. I should have been relieved that Fisher decided to let go of his little crush and date someone. This was my chance to stop fixating on what happened that night on my boat and get back to my comfort zone of casually hooking up with tourists where there were no expectations and no certainty of failure.

Even if Fisher wasn't so young, even if his father didn't hate me, I'd already discovered relationships weren't for me. I didn't like who I was when I'd been married. I'd felt trapped and resentful and bitter. I'd been a bad husband to Karen as a result, and the couple of relationships I'd tried after my divorce confirmed that I should remain single.

I wanted a simple, uncomplicated life. I was too selfish to be a good partner.

And being with Fisher would not be simple.

Then Noah shifted to the seat beside Fisher. He brushed his fingers along the nape of his neck. Fisher smiled, but there was something about his smile that struck me as odd.

He swayed in his seat when Noah pulled away, and I realized what it was.

Two wine bottles stood on the table. Damn. Had they drunk both of those?

That Noah shit really was loaded if he was throwing down for two bottles of wine. No doubt to loosen up his date.

"Hudson." Declan gave my arm a shake. "It's time to order."

Noah stood up, held out a hand, and Fisher took it. When he stood, he swayed even more.

Noah leaned in and whispered in his ear, then wrapped an arm around his waist and began to lead him out of the restaurant, Fisher on wobbly legs.

I stood up, intent on following them when Declan's voice cut through the worry and jealousy filling my head with white noise.

"Hudson! You invited me for dinner, and you can't just—"

I threw down my credit card. "Your dinner is on me."

Then I charged after Noah and Fisher, unsure of what I was going to do. I only knew that Fisher was too drunk to go home with that man, and I wouldn't stand by and let him be taken advantage of like that.

When I reached the deck that surrounded the restaurant, I heard Fisher's voice, slurred but intelligible.

"I'm not interested."

"C'mon, babe. I just spent like three hundred bucks on dinner."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"You didn't stop me, either." Noah looked pissed, leaning in and lowering his hand to grip Fisher's ass. "You let me think—"

I snatched his arm and yanked it away from Fisher. "Get your fucking hands off him."

Noah's eyes widened. "Whoa. Sir, I don't know what you think is happening here—"

"I know he said he wasn't interested."

Noah's eyes narrowed. "Hey, I've seen you. The big guy who was glaring at me the other night when I talked to Fisher, right? Listen, dude. I'm sorry he doesn't want you, but back off, okay?"

"Hudson doesn't see me that way," Fisher said, his voice sad and small. "He's just looking out for me."

Noah glanced between us, scoffing. "Yeah, right. Keep lying to yourselves. I'm over it."

He stormed off, leaving Fisher swaying on his feet, and I stepped into the space he'd occupied. "Are you okay?"

"I drank too much wine."

"I noticed."

He sighed and leaned against me, and when I raised my arm, he snuggled in like he belonged there. "Will you take me home?"

"Of course."

A few steps down the road it became apparent Fisher wasn't going to be able to walk the distance to his apartment. I led him around to the dock instead and helped him aboard.

"Is it okay if you sleep it off at my place?" I asked.

I was pretty sure if I had to carry a passed-out Fisher to his house, Boone would murder me first and ask questions later.

"Mm, yeah." He giggled. "Always wanted in your bed."

"Bet you didn't think it would be like this, huh?"

"Nooope."

I chuckled. "Well, don't worry. I'll take good care of you. You're safe with me."

"I know." He closed his eyes as I settled him into a seat on the boat, head lolling back. "You'd never hurt me."

He sounded utterly certain. Even drunk, I was pretty sure Fisher had the self-awareness to know who to trust, and he trusted me.

My heart swelled in my chest, and my stomach did an unsettled flip.

I liked that he trusted me. That he knew I'd keep him safe.

But it wasn't true that I'd never hurt him. I already had. And if I gave in to my desire to keep him in my bed for more than one innocent night, I'd risk hurting him even more.

My head was a mess of what-ifs, but I pushed them away and focused on getting us across the lake to my houseboat. Once there, I had to follow Fisher up the ladder, half afraid he'd fall into the lake and drown, then helped him stumble his way to my sleeping quarters.

When we reached the bed, he fell onto it with a grateful sigh. "Never knew wine made you so tired."

"Well, maybe don't drink the better part of two bottles next time."

He made a face. "I don't even like it that much. But it got better as I went."

"Most alcohol does," I said with a chuckle.

I pulled off his shoes, then caught my breath when Fisher unbuttoned his jeans and squirmed out of them. He wore tight-fitting boxer briefs beneath, and I had to drag my eyes away before I became more like Noah than I'd like.

"I can sleep in my other boat," I said.

"No," Fisher said. "Sleep with me."

"Fish…"

"Just sleep," he said. "Please? I'll feel weird being in here alone."

His voice was pleading, as if he wasn't offering the very thing I desperately wanted.

"Okay, sweetheart." I stripped down to boxers and a T-shirt and climbed into the bed that was barely big enough to fit me.

Fisher turned on his side, laid his head on my shoulder, and promptly fell asleep cradled in my arms.

But I lay awake a long time, wondering what I was going to do with the feelings that kept crowding in for this beautiful boy—and whether Declan would ever talk to me again after the way I'd ditched him.

I was pretty sure he'd forgive me if I paid for a few more of his meals. If only it was as easy to figure out what to do about Fisher.