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“Under the cover of darkness? Should I wear a disguise?”
“Geez, Rory. Don’t be dramatic. A disguise isn’t necessary. We could just stay inside.”
“Behind locked doors and closed blinds?”
“Of course—”
“Not interested. And if I were you, I’d quickly come down with a stomach bug because Sherry is itching to cause you bodily harm and I’m certainly not going to stop her.”
His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something, but I turned and dashed back around the corner and out onto the bar floor.
A moment later, I saw Thaddeus and his date headed for the door, Thaddeus clutching his stomach dramatically, his face twisted in mock-agony as she trotted next to him, wide-eyed and appropriately worried. But I didn’t miss the glance she threw Romeo over her shoulder, obviously wanting one last look at the raven-haired, blue-eyed Dionysus serving libations from behind the bar. And I didn’t miss the fact that Romeo threw her a wink and his famous half-grin, causing her to trip and fall against Thaddeus, both of them lurching over the threshold.
The door fell shut behind them just as Romeo flipped a bottle behind his back, caught it with his other hand and was rewarded with a robust round of applause that would have fed the ego of the most jaded Hollywood star.
I quickly checked on my tables and then walked toward the front door. “I’m going to get some air,” I called over to Romeo. He tipped his chin at me as he filled a line of shot glasses in front of him. Once outside, I took a moment to look up and down the docks but when I saw no sign of Thaddeus and the woman, I let out a sigh of relief and walked across the street where there was a railing that looked out to the sea.
I leaned my elbows on the sun-bleached wood, clasping my hands and staring out at the moonlit water, feeling that same pull I always did when I stood here just like this. What was that hollow longing that rose up whenever I stared over the horizon to places beyond? Generations of my people had felt drawn to the water itself, their sea legs strong and sturdy. The sea had provided them peace and purpose, and also a way to feed their family. For a long time, I wondered if that was the same pull I felt, and I kept waiting for the desire to be out on the water more often than on land. Unlike Romeo, my uncle Cassius had felt the call of the ocean and now captained a boat. I liked being on the water, but I was always eager to put my feet back on good ol’ terra firma. I much preferred to look out over the sea than to brave its choppy waters on any regular basis.
So no, that wasn’t it. And yet the nameless pull remained. It made me confused and frustrated and I had no way to respond, nothing to act on, because I didn’t know what it was specifically asking of me.
A nudge at my thigh scattered my thoughts and I looked down to see soulful eyes staring back up at me. “Loki,” I greeted the black and brown mutt, squatting down so I was at his level. “What are you doing here this early in the evening?” He stepped toward me and I took his head in my hands, leaning in and bumping my nose with his before leaning back to look him in the eye so I could gauge his mood and make sure nothing was wrong. “It’s not dinnertime yet. Come to the back door later and I’ll have your usual.” He let out a soft moan and nuzzled his wet nose against mine. I smiled. “Oh, I see, it’s just some affection you’re after. Well. We all need some now and again, even a tough guy like you.” He stared at me, his gaze so tender that I wondered if it was me who needed affection, and this gentle soul had known it.
I scratched behind his ears, dragging my fingernails over his head and then down his back. “Thank you for the love. I needed it. I tend to look for it in all the wrong places.”
Loki let out another soft whine, tipping his head so I could scratch his chin. “You could come home with me you know. The offer’s always open…regular meals…regular baths.” Loki let out a short growl, stepping back. I laughed. “Fine, then. You’re not ready to live by the rules, then you remain a free agent.”
I heard the door of the bar open and close and moments later, footsteps sounded behind me. I glanced over to see Romeo approaching and stood as Loki went trotting off, away from the threat of a bath. “Let me guess, table eight wants another round.”
He turned and placed his elbows on the ledge and leaned forward. “Yeah. I sent Sherry to take care of them.” He squinted at me. “Figured you needed another minute or two out here.”
I sighed, resting my hands on the railing as I again, stared out over the water, rolling and shifting under the moonglow. “Thanks.”
I felt Romeo’s considering gaze on me but didn’t look his way. “What are you looking for, Rory?”
What are you looking for? I glanced over at him. I knew he meant it as a general question. He was asking why I was always searching and never finding. He wanted to know where that pull I talked about might be coming from. He was suggesting that I was never satisfied because I was blindly reaching for something I couldn’t define. And he was right. “I don’t know,” I admitted. Myself, maybe.
Romeo turned and raised his chin as he gazed out at the sky, the stars milky and faded in the midst of the streetlamps. He let out a sigh. “Well, can we agree, at least, that it’s probably not in Claremont Landing?”
I let out a quiet laugh. “It doesn’t seem to be, does it?”
He flashed me that staggeringly beautiful smile of his. “No, it doesn’t seem to be.”
“Come on,” I said, pushing off the wooden rail and yanking on his shirt. “Your groupies are likely suffering from withdrawal as we speak. Last time they rushed me on this dock, I got a splinter in my ass.”
He laughed. “Storyteller,” he said, turning and walking with me across the street.
“Is that a nice way to call me a liar?”
He winked, and I grinned before I filled my lungs with a deep inhale of the briny air I’d been breathing all my life and then pulled open the door to the bar. My customers would all be banging their tables for another round soon enough, and at least that was one call that I knew how to answer.
CHAPTER THREE
Gage
The guys’ weekend was already a complete catastrophe. The four of us, completely drenched, stood in front of a sign that read: Mud Gulch, Population three thousand, seven hundred.
It’d taken us twenty miserable minutes to walk here after Trent’s car had blown a tire on the dark back road we’d found ourselves on after taking the wrong exit.
