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“Absolutely. Go. We’re going to have a great weekend,” she said with what might have been forced enthusiasm—he couldn’t be sure. He really couldn’t read her at all. Seeing her for the first time after the kiss had been as awkward as he’d thought it would be. He was torn between wanting to talk about it and wanting to pretend it hadn’t happened. Torn between wanting to avoid her at all costs and grabbing her and getting another taste of those lips.
Luckily, he’d been saved from having to make any decisions because Marissa was around, listening and watching. Closely.
“Okay…” He didn’t move. His gaze shifted from his daughter to Sarah and back again.
“Go!” they both said in unison.
Right. He was worrying for nothing.
The two of them would probably be glued to computer monitors all weekend and not even notice the time passing. It wasn’t the ideal way he’d like Marissa to spend her weekend, but she’d have a much better time there than she would at her grandparents’ place.
Unfortunately, his in-laws hadn’t been thrilled about this change of events. Carolyn’s “Well, if you think that’s a wise decision…” response had him questioning it even more. Especially when he couldn’t exactly dismiss the woman’s concerns about Sarah’s potential feelings for him, since his own feelings for Sarah were confusing the hell out of him. That kiss had been anything but friendly. But this was about Marissa, and how he was raising his daughter was his call to make.
“Why are you still here?” Marissa asked.
“Okay, I’m gone,” he said, actually walking toward his truck this time. “I’ll have my cell. Reception is usually pretty good at the lodge, a little dicey out on the water, but call Bridget at the desk of Blue Moon Bay Sportfishing if there’s an emergency; they can radio out to the boat.”
Both of them looked bored as he rambled on.
“Okay…bye,” he said. “Love you…Marissa,” he said quickly, as though he needed to clarify, then feeling like a fool, he climbed into the truck and gave a quick wave as he backed out of the driveway.
He sighed as he rested his arm outside the window and honked the horn twice as he drove away.
Marissa would be fine. Sarah was the one he should be worried about. Nine-year-olds had a lot of energy, and Sarah had never been around a lot of kids. But so far, she’d been a pro at keeping Marissa both occupied and content while he’d worked, and he knew he could trust her.
What was actually bothering him was that he’d almost wanted to stay and hang out with them that weekend instead of going fishing. Which was a new feeling. He looked forward to this weekend’s fishing trip every year: getting together with his best friends from high school for the once-a-year boys’ weekend. They rented out the private charter, and there was more fooling around and drinking beer than fishing, but their annual competition for the biggest rockfish added a competitiveness to the weekend and kept them all coming back year after year.
He cranked the music as he drove along the coast toward Blue Moon Bay Sportfishing. It was about forty minutes outside of town, but the owners were originally from Blue Moon Bay and had kept the name when they’d relocated down the coast years before. The sun reflecting off the ocean and the mild breeze blowing through the cabin of the truck made him feel good. Better than he had in a while.
Pulling up into the lot of the dockside sportfishing outfitter almost an hour later, he grabbed his tackle box, rod, and reel and headed down to the pier where the other men were waiting.
“Hey, man…thought we were going to have to leave without you,” Phil Parker, his best friend from high school, said as he approached. The man was dressed in a pair of fishing coveralls, rubber boots, and a Boonie hat, looking the part of a fisherman, at least, even though he held the record for no rockfish caught six years straight. The guy had as much interest in fishing as Wes had in crunching numbers, but his accountant-desk-job friend came to hang out with the old gang every year.
Wes returned his fist bump and waved to several of the others still inside the shop, buying new gear and bait. “Ran a little late dropping off Marissa.”
“How is she?”
“Nine going on thirty,” Wes said as he climbed on board the charter.
“I hear that,” Phil said. Phil was on his second marriage with seven children in their new blended family. All girls, ranging in age from eleven to six months old. If Wes enjoyed this free-from-obligations weekend, Phil needed it to survive.
“How’s the family?” he asked.
“Good. The oldest ones are doing a spa weekend with their mom, and the baby is with the grandparents.” He reached into the cooler and handed Wes a beer.
“Thanks.” He cracked the seal and took a gulp as he stared out at the water. “Perfect day for this.” The conditions looked pristine out on the water. Soft waves crashed against the boat as they baited their hooks with squid, attached the appropriate amount of weight, and prepared to drop their lines to the bottom of the ocean floor once the rest of the group boarded and the captain set sail.
“Hey, man, any day away from work is the perfect day,” Phil said, sitting on top of the cooler.
“How’s business?”
“Same old thing.” He shrugged. “Steady work, so I can’t really complain. I hear you’re renovating Dove’s Nest.”
“Yep. Luckily I was able to talk Sarah Lewis into not immediately demolishing it.”
“Sarah Lewis?” Phil asked with a note of interest in his voice. His buddy had once had a crush on Sarah in junior high. Unfortunately, Sarah hadn’t returned the interest. Or she’d been oblivious to it. Or she’d had a crush onhim, the way Carolyn had suspected. Did she still? “She’s back in town?” Phil asked.
Back in town and unexpectedly messing withhisemotions this time around. “She inherited the place from Dove.”
