Page 36 of Alonzo

“Miles. His present was for me to give you…” Jesse smiles at me. “Wait for it…”

“I don’t want to wait for it. Tell me what the fuck is going on or I’m going to toss you overboard.”

He presses the air with his palms again. “OK. Fine. Love lessons.”

I blink at him. “What? Are you having like… some kind of episode right now? Love lessons?”

“Miles. He told me you were having trouble in the girl department. And you need some pointers.”

“I need pointers?” I point to myself.

“Yeah.”

“From you?”

“From me. Because I’m like… all smooth and shit.”

Quint looks at me and laughs. “Well. What do you want to do?”

I look out the window at the yacht filled with girls shaking their tits at me. Then back at Jesse. “You brought me out into the ocean to set me up with a yacht filled with naked girls?”

“Yeah.” He laughs. “Take your pick. Hell, take two. They’re all interested. Miles made up a little résumé highlighting all your strengths and they bought it. He’s really good at downplaying weaknesses.”

I look at Quint. He’s not even bothering to stifle his laugh. Then back at Jesse. “Jesse?”

“Lonz?” He’s fucking grinning. Like this whole expedition is just one big box of fun.

“Are you a moron?”

“What?”

“Number one.” I hold up a finger because I’m about to make a list. “I do not need love lessons. I’m a six-foot-four, yoked-out, hot-as-fuck, tattooed fisherman. Girls follow me around begging me to fuck them.”

He makes a face. “You sure about that?”

“Two. You’re not charming. You’re a dick-face, douchebag yachter who got lucky one time thirteen years ago with my sweet sister.”

“Hey, I’d like to think we both got lucky that day.”

“Three. Even if I did need love lessons, I would not go to you.”

“I don’t know, man. I might be off the market now, but back in the day, I was a top-notch player.”

I blink at him. He blinks back. “You know what? I’m done.” I pick his ass up, throw him over my shoulder, walk out to the cockpit, and toss him overboard. Then I turn back to Quint and point. “Let’s go home. I have a date.”

Two fucking hours later I’m finally walking through the door of my cottage, still pissed off that I fell for Jesse Boston’s idiot plan.

Love lessons. The nerve of that dude. I’m just about to call Emma up and tell her to divorce his ass when a call comes through on my phone.

Tara. She’s early.

I grin as I accept the call, forgetting all about Jesse Boston. “Lonnie Derringer’s accounting service. How can I help you today?”

“Oh, my God. I have had the worst fucking day.”

“You too, huh?”

“You had a bad day?”