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Miri
My good mood sours with each step that sinks into the sand. Damn Anthony. Not only did he ruin my running high, but now I have to go to dinner with someone I really don’t want to spend time with. Or figure out a way to get out of it. I’ve been in town less than a week, I’m not exactly ready to ostracize the townies quite yet and I definitely don’t want to get my business license denied because Anthony has some kind of anger boner for me. I wonder if asking Davis to come would cross some invisible line we’ve drawn in the sand.
After dinner at Birdie’s, things are even more complex between us than I could have imagined. I have an equal desire to punch his face and possibly sit on it. Okay, calm the hell down, vagina.
I follow the beach around a large outcropping of rock and find the docks where I’d gotten off on the ferry a few days before. There are slips for dozens of boats that run the gamut from dingy to luxury yachts. Most of the spaces are occupied but a few are empty, and I wonder if their tenants are out on the water.
As my eyes scan the waterfront, I spot a familiar face coming out from the cabin of a fishing boat. I slow, contemplating if I should stop or just breeze on by. The little devil on my shoulder wins, insisting I say hello to Davis.
He’s like a prickly bush that’s hiding something interesting, and I have this need to shove through the barbs to see what it is. That is probably an idiotic desire, but no one has ever accused me of making good decisions. I’ll never admit it to Davis, but that night when he drove me away from my mom, he sparked something inside me. I liked his grumpy exterior; it made me want to peel back the layers that everyone gets and find a gooey middle that is just for me.
After that night, any guy I met got compared to Davis. It’s ridiculous that he had such an impact after so little time together, but he became the stuff of my fantasies for years after that. Only, I never could have imagined he’d grow into the raw, masculine powerhouse in front of me now. It’s disturbing how handsome I find him.
My feet decide that I’m going to go say hello before my mind catches up. I hop up on the dock and head toward his boat, pulling my headphones back out and slinging them around my neck. Davis spots me before I get to his boat, his eyes watching me approach like I’m going to bring a bomb on board.
“Come to do some fishing?” Davis asks, his face remaining completely blank as he coils some rope.
“I’d probably cry if I caught one.” I grin, thinking about Birdie’s story from the other night.
“Birdie.” Davis curses her name and I chuckle. It’s obvious Birdie can get away with embarrassing him when no one else would ever be allowed.
“I’m just out for a run. You heading out?”
“Not today. Just checking my supplies.”
Davis pushes the sleeves of his Henley up, revealing tanned, muscular forearms that make me want to bite him. When did a forearm become a sexy body part? There are scars and tattoos scattered over the skin of his arms, and I lean forward to get a better look at the ink.
“Why do you have the same kind of tattoos as Anthony Hatcher?” My head jerks up and my eyes dart back and forth between his face and the ink.
“Why the fuck have you seen Anthony’s tattoos?”
“Is it like an island specialty? Do you guys just have one tattoo guy who only does one style?” My forehead creases, totally confused by the similarity. It slowly dawns on me that maybe I shouldn’t be asking about their matching tattoos.
“Get on the boat, Miri.” Davis stomps forward and opens up a swinging gate at the back of the boat. He holds out a hand to help me traverse the gap between the dock and the boat. There’s definitely something wrong with my sense of self-preservation because I don’t even consider not getting on.
There’s a flash of heat when our fingers touch, but Davis doesn’t react, so I pretend the world doesn’t quake when he touches me. Once I’m on board, his eyes scan up and down the dock, like he’s about to do something nefarious.
“Are you going to murder me and throw me off the boat or something? Why do you look like you’re checking for witnesses?” I settle on a bench, keeping Davis’s agitated form in sight.
He swings annoyed eyes at me and glares.
“You are going to be so much trouble,” Davis groans, his fingers scratching at his dark scruff that’s about a day away from being a full-on beard.
“Um, thanks?” I grin, stretching out my legs and crossing them at the ankle. The boat is rocking gently, but not enough that I’m worried about tossing my cookies over the side.
“Why have you seen Anthony’s tattoos?” Davis picks up a net, running his hands over it, looking like he’s checking for holes. Which is probably exactly what he’s doing.
“I’ll answer one of your questions if you answer one of mine. Tit for tat. Get it?” I wink, but Davis does not find me amusing. It only makes me want to antagonize him more. He’s so growly and… manly. Scars litter his tan hands and I bet they’re rough, calloused, and strong. It would be obvious he’s turning me on if I started fanning myself, right?
“Sure, fine. Whatever.”
“Alright. I was out for a run.” I hold up my phone with the headphones connected like they’re proof. “And the jerk was finishing up a swim and decided to rip my headphones off. I saw his tattoos when he volun-told me I was coming to his house for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Christ, what?” Davis looks up at that, his eyes dark and stormy. He’s gripping the net so tightly I’m pretty sure it has holes in it now if it didn’t before.
“Am I missing something? Granted, Anthony sets off my creep meter, but he asked me over for dinner. He didn’t ask me to hold his gloves while he dissected kittens or some shit.” I tip my head back, letting the sun warm my face while the frosty ocean breeze cools my sweaty skin. It feels nice now, but it won’t be long before I’m shivering from the cold.
“What the hell, Miri. Where did that even come from? Whatever. I told you last night to stay away from Anthony.”
