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He pulls the enormous rumbling shiny black Ford pickup into a space by a small building with Broke Jack Charters painted on the front window, and it makes me smile remembering his story behind the name.
When he started out, he was way broke, just arrived here in Cherry Falls, spent nearly every cent he had on the land where he built his house. He’d always loved the water, loved the idea of having a boat but had zero experience.
But, he wanted to chase his dream so he bought his first renovation boat, named Chaos and started his business. He’s far from broke now, I’m certainly not privy to his bank account status, but from his house, the other boats he owns, and the way Arianna talks about his investments and how she never wants for anything, he’s done well for himself. I’m secretly proud of him. And Carter of course. They booth paid for the crimes and turned their lives around.
He shuts the engine off and opens his door. I do the same, but before I can get out he’s right there, glaring at me, holding the door so I can’t push it open any farther.
“You should always have the door opened for you.” He grunts on a sniff, that pained look back on his face as he pulls the handle and I step onto the running board as he extends his other hand to help me step down.
The touch of his hand sends a zing of energy through me and I can’t believe I’m the only one of us that feels it. It’s palpable, making me nearly gasp like I’ve been zapped by a lusty sort of taser, and I stumble on the step down.
Jack’s arms are around me in an instant, my chest pressed against his side as my hands fly out to grab his iron-hard forearms.
“Sorry,” I half mumble, setting myself back right, looking up with an awkward smile. “Guess I have sea legs on land.”
“They’re great legs,” he replies softly, like he’s talking to himself. He clears his throat, brushing his hands down my arms, then nods down the dock. “Come on. I gotta take care of this shit. Then, we can go get something to eat maybe.”
“I’m not hungry.” He shoots a stern look at my automatic reply but he turns and starts lumbering down the wooden dock toward where voices and music drift on the breeze from a large white moored boat at the end of the walkway.
As we approach, a large man dressed in a tropical sort of shirt and black trousers throws his arms in the air when he sees Jack.
“You trying to cheat us?” he bellows, and Jack looks my way as we get close to the group on the dock.
“Wait here.”
His back is straight, shoulders back as I watch him walk toward the angry man. The customer is gesturing, talking louder than necessary, like a scene fueled by a bit too much alcohol. Jack’s got that perfectly imperfect swagger, a little more weight on his left leg but there’s no hesitation. He’s fearless, calm and I can’t imagine not feeling safe with him, no matter what the circumstances.
As Jack and the man start to talk, a young woman wearing one of his red charter t-shirts and white shorts joins them. I listen to the sounds of the water, the boats in the slips swaying, hardware clanging on aluminum mast heads and seagulls squawking overhead, then wander a little closer, wanting to hear what’s going on, but more than that I just have this pull to be near Jack.
The conversation with the customer seems to calm as Jack taps a clipboard, showing the man something on the paperwork as a group of five younger men and women a bit older than me come stumbling off the boat, laughing and carrying red Solo cups. They see me as they approach and one of the guys smiles, holding up his cup.
I nod, realizing they probably think I’m part of the charter crew.
“We gonna get underway now the rest of the crew is here?” one of the girls asks. She’s wearing a skimpy, skintight pink and black leopard-print mini dress with Kat Von D eyeliner and Tammy Fae mascara.
“I’m not sure…I’m not—”
“Are you part of the crew?” One of the guys gets within a few inches of me and I can smell the alcohol on his breath, his eyes glazed as he sways unsteadily.
“No, I’m just—”
“Hey, hold on…” He doesn’t let me finish, narrowing his eyes then looking at the girl standing next to him. “She looks like that girl…you know. That one you make me watch all the time. Give me your phone.”
He holds out his hand and she pulls her phone from her cleavage, handing it over.
He taps the screen as some of the group keeps walking, leaving me with just the guy and pink leopard girl, who doesn’t say anything but is giving me the hard stink eyes.
