Page 73 of The Bartender Special

Jack's fake cheer disappeared as he went past him and into the house.

“Those damn Robertsons, I swear.” He muttered it under his breath. “I went to the store so Dixon could look at tampons—don't ask—and the next thing I know, your boy Marcus has me cornered in the shampoo aisle.”

Benny was glad for the AC again but still felt hot hurrying after Jack into the kitchen. Callum was already out of the house doing something with Justus, so he didn't have to remind Jack to keep his grumpiness down. If they wanted their shenanigans to work, he'd definitely need to stop saying stuff like “your boy Marcus.”

Jack threw his hands up and did a loud, long grumble.

“I used to be able to walk around town no problem, but now I step foot anywhere near Main and everyone wants a piece of me.” He turned to face him. “Us, I mean. They want us to go hang out on their boat with them. Heaven forbid they actually come to the bar and do it. But, Marcus said it would be nice to hang out in the sun before we get the life drained from us during the festival.”

“And you said yes. Before asking me. Again.”

The bartender had the good sense to look somewhat apologetic.

“What can I say? I now officially believe in the Robertson charm. It and all its steamrolling glory.”

Benny felt his eyes narrow.

And felt no humor whatsoever.

“I had things to do today. Important things,” he pointed out. “I don't have time to go boating with Queen Bee and your ex on the bay. We don't have the time. There's still the last coat of paint at Roger's, making a party plan for the bar, making a plan for the parade, and—” He threw his hands up. “Oh my God! The pageant! I keep forgetting that we're in it! Did I tell you that the mayor wants to meet us tomorrow afternoon? Holy shit sticks, Jack!” Benny dragged his hands down the sides of his face as panic rocketed through him. “We don’t have time to go boating with the mother flipping Robertsons!”

Jack sure had a set of brass ones on him.

He actually chuckled.

“Listen, it's not that bad,” he tried. “They'll probably have fancy beer and snacks and want to leave after an hour because they don't want their precious skin to burn. Before then? Why don't we use the time to see if we can't get the scoop on what they're doing for the parade and pageant? See how over the top they're planning on going so we can figure out how to be better than them. Then you and I can talk strategy.” He paused. “What do you say?”

Benny would have been nervous to go out with Marcus by himself. Add in Carol and her lackey Ruby, Felicity, and then Jack?

Benny definitely wasn't inclined to say yes.

Jack must have seen that.

He smirked.

“Think about it this way…” Jack pushed off of the counter and sauntered—actually sauntered—toward him. Benny fought the urge to reverse. Jack leaned over when he was close enough to make the biggest splash.

Jack’s voice went husky.

“We go to this thing, and you get to see me shirtless this time.”

Benny didn’t say it then, but he sure did think it.

Boating didn’t seem that bad anymore.

THIRTEEN

“I lost my virginity on a boat.”

Jack put the truck in park and turned his head with a Scooby-Doo huh sound.

The fact that he was dressed like an undercover cop from the early nineties in LA only made the move more comical. Benny had barely kept a straight face when Jack had come back out of his apartment earlier, sporting a pair of swimming trunks striped neon orange, green, and purple with a short-sleeved button-up left open over his torso.

And happy trail exposed and fantastically happy.

He imagined a tattoo on Jack’s toned stomach with an arrow pointing downward with text that said Ride at Your Own Risk.

An image that had him feeling all kinds of awkward on the drive between Jack’s apartment and Live Oak Launch.