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“There, with interest. Can I help you with anything else?”
She swiped the buck, gave me a scathing look, and made her way to the bar to torment the poor barkeep on duty. I gave her the finger behind her back.
“Elias,” my father chided when he hustled up to the desk, his arms filled with wet towels.
“Sorry.” I lowered my hand. “Dryer issues?”
“Yes, of course. Things always break down when you need them the most.”
“I can run them to the laundromat on the tip.”
“Thank you. I’ll work the desk. It appears I have a better temperament for it.”
I thought he did as well. So, ten minutes later, I was loading wet towels into the back of my father’s old Subaru hatchback, the official car of the Kesside Inn. Judging by the bags of soggy towels, I would be in town for a while. Which was fine with me.
Traffic slowed to a crawl the closer I got to the southern end of the island. About half a mile out, I just pulled off the road the best that I could, hoisted the wet cloth bags over my shoulders, and walked to the tip. Tourists were packed into the small town, the shops were overflowing with patrons, and the sound of boat motors and horns filled the air.
Toting my booty like a pirate, I slipped into the nearly empty laundromat. The smell of bleach and soap reached me as I emptied the bags into four massive dryers. The front door was open as people passed by steadily. Women chatting, men laughing, and children shouting.
Smiling to myself at the noise, for it meant money in the tills of all the stores that lined the harbor, I changed a twenty into a ton of quarters and got the loads tumbling. Cussing at my memory, I rushed to buy some dryer sheets from a coin-operated machine on the wall by a bulletin board. After tossing the sunshine-fresh strips into the dryers, I started the machines again and headed out into the street. My sight was set on the pottery shop.
Gibson was ringing someone out when I entered. Ten or so customers were milling around. He glanced up to see me, a smile splitting his face when our eyes met. I grinned and ducked my head, easing around the tourists who were whispering praise over the items for sale.
“Hey, you,” I said in a low tone when I neared the register. He looked a little tired but still magnificent. I loved seeing he had on a soft lime green tee and bright yellow shorts. No leather apron today. Instead, he had donned a soft blue one made of cloth with SEA SONG CERAMIST on the front.
“Hello, handsome,” he replied, tucking a squat round bowl of burnt sienna clay that had been deeply glazed into a small box filled with tissue paper. “What brings you to town?”
“The dryer at the inn went on the fritz,” I said, moving out of the way when a couple of millennials came up to pay for their vase. Under the counter were scores of boxes already made and sheafs of tissue paper at the ready.
“Oh no, what a weekend for that to happen,” he replied as he handed over change to one customer and began ringing up another. A woman with red hair by a shelf filled with plates and bowls called out with a question. Gibson glanced around and looked at me. “Would you be willing to ring them out?”
“Of course.” I nudged him aside with my hip. He gave me a grateful look, then a peck on the cheek before heading off to speak with his potential customer. “This is so pretty,” I said as I packaged up the deep red bud vase.
“Are you two dating?” the man asked as his wife tapped in her PIN number.
“We’re…” I paused to look at Gibson. His head turned the moment my eyes touched on his wide shoulders. Oh yes, there was something special between us, but I didn’t want to say what it was before we ourselves had discussed it. “We’re special friends.”
“Ah, gotcha.” The man smiled knowingly. The next twenty minutes raced past as people came and went, spending as if there were no rumors of an impending recession. Of course, these were mostly wealthy people. They owned summer homes and speed boats. So what was a few hundred spent at a pottery shop to the elite? Hell, I’d spent what Gibson had just made on socks. That felt all kinds of elitest now that I thought about it.
“Shall we take a lunch break?” he asked as he flipped the lock on the front door.
“Sounds good. I could go for a lobster roll at Rowdy Ralph’s.”
“Me too.” He untied his apron as he walked toward me. He didn’t stop walking, not until I was pressed flat against the counter with the cash register in my lower back. “I’m also rather hungry for a taste of your bewitching lips. I’ve missed you, Elias.”
I loved how he said my name. So filled with emotion and passion. “I missed you too.”
My arms went around his middle. His mouth slanted over mine. Our tongues tangled as I reacquainted myself with the width of his shoulders.
“Mm, that was lovely.” He sighed when the kiss ended. I buried my face into his neck, enjoying the hell out of the crackle of beard on beard. “Maybe we should skip the food and just stay here and get randy?”
I was about to say yes when my stomach rumbled. “Ah well, perhaps we should feed you and then come back and get randy.”
“That sounds like a plan.” We snuck out the back, locking the screen door, and made our way around the front, hand-in-hand. As we hit the sidewalk, I had a moment of panic. I yanked my hand from his. Gibson waited for me, his fingers dangling by his side, patiently giving me time to come to grips with this new reality. “Damn it.” I shoved my hands into my hair with an exhalation. “Sorry. That’s…I’m stupid.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just conditioned. We’ll work on that.” He offered me his hand once more. I took it, wiggling my fingers between his.
He smiled at me lovingly, then we made our way to the pub holding hands so the world could see us. Imagine that. I hated to let go when we were shown to our table on the second floor. A long outdoor patio looked out over the harbor and we were happy to get a tiny little table for two. While the exhausted server rushed to clear the dirty dishes from the previous patrons, we sat there watching the boats moving slowly out to sea, flags dancing in the brisk wind. When the table was wiped and reset, we both ordered some lemonade and the Rowdy Ralph’s lobster roll platter and an appetizer dish of shrimp dip with crudites.
