2. Jack

2

JACK

I’m behind the counter, ringing up a customer, when a familiar car rolls into the station.

No, it can’t be. I haven’t seen that guy in months.

But it’s him. Aaron Edwards. Before I can rearrange my shocked face, his long legs unfold from the BMW and eat the distance toward the door.

“Uh-oh,” Frank says, standing beside me at the counter. “Is he here to complain about the service done on his car?”

“Guess we’re about to find out,” I mutter as the bell jingles and his broad smile makes my stomach clench. He was good in the sack, which I’ve revisited on plenty of occasions while jerking off.

But I can’t allow my thoughts to travel in that direction. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

He heads toward the vending machine with a fistful of coins. “I’m taking some time off and thought I’d spend it here.”

Frank and I exchange a look as he places his water on the counter. Sure, Aqua Vista has pretty scenery, whether beachside or mountain view, but there’s plenty of that between here and San Jose.

“What?” he asks, looking between us. “I didn’t get enough time to explore the town last time, so why not?”

I school my features. “Suit yourself.”

“Plus, I liked the work you did on my car,” he tells Frank. “Thought I’d ask for a tune-up while I’m here.”

“Sure, we can put you on the schedule.” I pull up the calendar on the computer. “How long will you be in town?”

“Not sure. A week, maybe two.”

When his hot gaze meets mine, I clear my throat. But before I can get my brain cells working again, the longing look is tamped down and he’s all business again.

I glance at the screen. “We can fit you in on Tuesday. How does that sound?”

“Great.” He gives Frank an up-nod. “Direct me to the inn? I thought I’d check that place out this time around.”

“Sure. Head through the center of town, past Johnny’s bar, and turn right. Can’t miss it.”

“Why, is it bright yellow or something?” he teases.

Frank chuckles. “She went more understated with that location. But the sign is pretty large, so it’s easy to find.”

“Plus, it’s the only thing out that way,” I add. “It’s in the foothills, so it feels more remote.”

“Sounds perfect. Thanks.” He grabs his water from the counter and cocks a brow. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

Is he flirting with me? Trying to play coy?

Fuck, why does he have to be so handsome?

I watch as he gets in his car and pulls onto the road in search of the inn.

“What in the world?” Frank asks.

“Well, like he said, he’s taking time off and decided to grace our little town with his presence.”

“Uh-huh.” Frank playfully knocks into me. “Bet you’re hoping he graces more than that.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t you have an oil change to get to?”

Frank goes to the garage, and I get busy with other things.

As the day wears on, I can’t stop thinking about Aaron and wondering what he’s up to. Is he exploring the town, or has he decided to just chill in his room? I can’t help but be curious about what prompted the vacation. Is he burned out? Going through a tough time? It's not my business, so I squash it down.

Frank and I part ways after I give the nighttime employee a rundown of the day. “Can you stock the oil cans when you get a chance?”

“Will do,” Mike says. He’s a good worker, reliable, and doesn’t try to pull any funny business by having his friends keep him company. A job is a job, not social hour.

I take the scenic route home—or at least that’s what I tell myself—and when I drive past the inn, I spot Aaron’s fancy car in the lot.

I have no good reason to stop, though the inn does have a bar. It’s normally filled with a mix of locals and travelers, but I’d look out of place suddenly showing up there. If Mae is working, she might wonder what the handsome stranger and I are up to. I already hooked up with him once in his motel room, and now he’s in town again.

I decide to drive home instead. Not that I care what people think of me, but I don’t always want the townsfolk to know my business. Everyone in Aqua Vista is too well acquainted with the McCoy family as it is. How could they not be when I own the only gas station for miles, my aunt Dina runs the general store, and my sister, June, works at the local diner. When my brother-in-law, Dan, passed, she grieved hard, then picked herself up and got back out there. My nephew, Cain, had been in high school at the time, so she’d needed to for him. And now he’s all grown and living his own life in Aqua Vista. Between the deaths and the heartache, our family has stayed close, and we try to get together whenever we can.

I pull into my driveway and park my truck. My house resembles a small cottage, which works for me since I don’t need much room.

I use the air fryer June got me for Christmas to heat leftovers, then sit on my back deck, absently eating the casserole Aunt Dina dropped off. This is one of my favorite places to decompress because I can see the mountains from my yard. I wonder what room Aaron was given and what view he has from his window. Fuck, why am I still thinking about him?

Maybe some porn viewing is in order, or finding an eager partner over in the next town. Truth be told, I haven’t been with anyone since Aaron, but it’s not that simple around here. Johnny’s bisexual and gets more hookups than me, and normally, I don’t mind. Besides, my brother has his own reasons for seeking out warm bodies late at night.

I push down on my semi with the heel of my hand. Something about seeing Aaron again and remembering how he felt and tasted gave me this boner nearly all day.

Maybe another hookup with him isn’t such a bad idea. If he’s willing.

I drink the rest of my beer, then clean up in the kitchen before heading to the repurposed shed in the backyard that houses my photography equipment. I pull the string on the light and sigh as I look around.

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve had the urge to take any snapshots, but I need to prepare for the upcoming Aqua Vista Art Fair. It’s a huge event in these parts, and I normally sell a good amount of photographs to tourists. But as I look through my stack of framed and unframed work, it feels uninspired. I have nothing new to add to the collection, not that the buyers will realize how dull and bland they feel to me. They just want affordable art of scenic views, and that’s what I provide.

Photography has been my hobby since my parents bought me my first camera as a kid. The McCoys are entrepreneurs, and I’ve been able to keep this as my side gig all along. Or maybe it’s just a pastime because, lately, the muse is dormant. Besides, how many times can I take photos of the same views? Suppose we’re spoiled in that way with the ocean and mountains as our backdrop.

I lift my camera, considering capturing the sunset, and then set it down. Instead, I organize the frames and develop what’s left of the film from my last outing a few months back. To me, it’s unremarkable, but it will likely do well at the fair.

The last time I truly felt motivated was directly after the accident that took my parents and brother-in-law. I was trying to capture what grief looked like while also giving myself a diversion, something to focus on. I was withering inside, absolutely heartbroken, and photographing felt like a task to complete on a checklist, so I got it done.

As the days dragged on, I took pictures of the boat that had drifted toward shore, empty, and the Coast Guard and divers as the search continued. Their bodies were never recovered, but I still sat for hours, hoping we’d get more proof they were truly missing. Though Dad always said he wanted a burial at sea.

None of it had seemed real. One day, they were there, and the next, they were gone. I’d lifted my camera and, either out of curiosity or disappointment, captured the people gathered on the beach. The crowd grew smaller every day, and I became increasingly frustrated that while my whole world had been turned upside down, people seemed to be losing interest.

Since then, I’ve rarely lifted my camera. Life has never been the same again for any of us. Not after the ocean showed us what it was capable of. The devastation. The desolation.

In the months afterward, even getting together felt painful. We were all carrying around so much grief we didn’t know what to do with it. Cain got into trouble at school, and Johnny kept himself busy repainting the outside of the bar—anything to keep our minds engaged with other things.

Tonight’s task complete, I click the light off, return to the house, and go to bed.