“You too, Ridge.” He answers like we’re old friends, giving me a wave.
Don’t get me wrong; I want to see young fishermen come up and make a go of it in the fishing industry because that’s the only way we’ll keep the fishery going. But they can’t only want to do it because they look at what some of the more established fishermen have and want that for themselves. They have to do it because they genuinely love working on the water. Which I can say with my entire soul that I do. On the Atlantic is where I feel most at home.
I walk through the automatic doors, instantly feeling the warmth of the heat after being outside in twenty-degree air. Christmas music plays faintly through the extremely decorated store—because one thing this town loves is the holidays.
Reaching for a basket, I head toward the produce first to get myself some apples and bananas. I don’t need much today, just some shit to throw in my lunch box for tomorrow. I planned to get stuff to make a sandwich, but now that I’ve invited myself to my parents’ for dinner, I’ll for sure be taking some of that lasagna to heat up instead. My dad makes fun of me and my brothers for having microwaves on our boats, but I bet he won’t be laughing tomorrow when he’s forcing down his ham and cheese sandwich and we’re all eating hot lasagna.
I put some apples into a bag and drop them into my basket before heading toward the bananas, but just as I go to reach for a bundle, someone’s hand bumps mine, and I look up into the prettiest hazel eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Sorry,” she says, pulling her hand back and lifting her other one that’s holding a piece of paper. “I was looking down at my list and not paying attention.”
“No big deal,” I drawl, grabbing a bundle of bananas and stepping back while keeping my gaze on her.
She doesn’t look like she’s from around here, and if she were … I would have known about her before now.
Her brownish-red hair falls past her shoulders in big waves and has this sort of shine to it. Her skin is porcelain, but her cheeks have a hint of red in them, and I don’t know if it’s from our hands touching, the cold air outside, or makeup.
“Well, I’ll just …” She bites down on her bottom lip, grabbing a bundle and throwing them into her basket. “Have a good day.”
She turns away from me, and my eyes involuntarily fall to her ass and then her legs. I’ve always been an ass and legs man—I like something I can hold on to. And she sure as fuck has that.
Shaking my head, I focus my eyes on the back of her head, not wanting to be a pervert when I’ve only exchanged a few words with the woman. I need to be respectful.
I open my mouth to ask her where she’s visiting from, but I’m stopped quickly.
“Hey, Ridge,” a voice says, followed by a giggle.
For a moment, my eyes stay on the redhead until she rounds the corner and falls out of sight. Slowly, I turn around to find two girls from in town, smiling at me. They can’t be much more than eighteen, and at twenty-eight, I’m not interested.
“Hey,” I say, smiling but then turning away from them.
It may seem rude, but I can’t seem too friendly. Both of their dads sell their lobsters to my family’s pound, and I don’t want to come off as a creeper.
“Ugh, he’s so hot,” one of them whispers. “One night. That’s literally all I want.”
“One night? I’d want, like … twenty,” the other adds. “He’s straight-up freaking sexy.”
“Even his boat’s name is hot.” Her voice grows smaller, the farther away I get. “Eastern Outlaw… even saying it makes me squirm in need.”
I don’t know whether to be flattered or mortified. Either way, I just keep walking and head toward the next aisle to get the hell out of here.
Teenage girls who giggle and turn red when they talk to me are nothing I’m interested in, so even if they are of age, I don’t care. I’ve had my fun with sleeping around, and sure, I’ll still bring a woman home now and then and show her a good time, but all of that just doesn’t sound interesting anymore. In fact, it’s pretty fucking old.
Wow. Is this what it’s like to grow up?
Fuck, I hope not.
Who would have thought that this sleepy little town in Maine would have such delicious eye candy?And that’s exactly what the dude at the banana rack was. Delicious eye candy. And did I fight back a growl when he grabbed the bananas? Yes. Yes, I did.
He probably has a big banana.
Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me? I’m here on a business trip. I don’t have time to be thinking about some random guy’s banana.
Besides, just because he was a big, muscular man doesn’t mean he’s packing a large banana anyway. It could be more like one of those tiny ones. I’m not even quite sure of their real purpose. You can’t really eat them. I mean, they are cute and everything, but that’s all.
All right, seriously, enough with the bananas.
I grab the rest of the items on my list in a hurry, not wanting to run into him again because, clearly, I’m not thinking straight right now, and I head to the register.
