Chapter 4
In a world full of fish, be a mermaid.
Flynn
W hen I open the door to Bootlegger and the noise hits me, I nearly turn around and go back home. I completely forgot it was Mermaid Karaoke Week.
Weston spots me and waves. Damn. I can’t run away now. He’ll want to know what’s bugging me since Mermaid Karaoke Week is usually my favorite part of tourist season.
“Hey, Flynn,” a woman I don’t recognize purrs at me.
I keep going, but she grabs my bicep to stop me.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“Meeting a friend.”
She bats her eyelashes at me. “I’m your friend, aren’t I?”
I peel her hand away from my bicep. I don’t want any woman touching me except the one woman I cannot have. “Not tonight, darling.”
“But,” she pouts, “I can’t give you my vote for sexiest man on the island unless I taste the goods.”
She rakes her gaze over my body as she licks her lips. Usually, I can be tempted by this kind of display. Not tonight. Not when a vision of Sophia covered in nothing but a towel is seared into my brain.
“I guess another man will have to win this year,” I say and leave before she has the chance to grab me again.
“Five Fathoms Summer IPA,” I order as I sit down on a barstool next to Weston.
He claps me on the back. “The women still throwing themselves at you?”
“I’m going to kill Lana for coming up with the sexiest man on the island competition.”
“What’s wrong? Not winning this year? You’re lucky I can’t compete, or you wouldn’t have a chance.”
As a police officer for Smuggler’s Rest, he’s ineligible. Initially, there weren’t many rules about who could compete to be the sexiest man on the island. The only rule was you had to kiss the person you voted for.
No one expected women to start speeding so they’d get pulled over by the men on the police force. All men in the service industry were disqualified before women started setting fires.
“Be my guest. I’m not interested in being auctioned off like a piece of meat at the end of the summer.”
Part of the whole sexiest man on the island competition is a charity auction at the end of tourist season. You can’t win unless you agree to be auctioned off. It was fun for the first few times, but I’m over it.
I’m over tourists throwing themselves at me. I’m over waking up next to a woman whose name I don’t know. There’s only one woman I want to wake up next to.
“I heard you saw my sister today.”
I grunt. I saw entirely too much of his sister today.
“You didn’t tell me she moved home.”
He shrugs. “I figured you knew. It’s the talk of the town.”
I frown. Sophia hates being the subject of gossip.
“You know I don’t pay any attention to the gossip.”
“You and your loathing of gossip.”
I hate gossip. It’s what caused Sophia to flee to Atlanta where I couldn’t keep an eye on her.
“Your sister needs a new place to live,” I say instead of getting into another discussion about gossiping.
His brow wrinkles. “Why? I thought she had an apartment in one of your buildings.”
“Plumbing’s messed up. I need to gut her bathroom, but I don’t have time for it. I’m on a deadline to finish the project at the resort.”
“Plumbing? What happened?”
I scowl. Your sister answered the door in a towel and my cock nearly exploded.
“Shit. Sophia didn’t throw herself at you again, did she?”
I wish she had. I could have ripped her towel off and seen all those curves I’ve been dreaming about for years in the flesh. Touched every single inch of her skin. I bet it’s soft as silk.
I’d fist her long, blonde hair while I devoured her mouth. I’ve been dying to get my lips on her pink, pouty ones since the last time she kissed me. It’s been over a decade, and I can still taste her strawberry flavor.
I long to watch her hazel eyes flare with passion. I bet she’s wild in bed. The woman doesn’t hold back when she wants something.
“Nah.” I force nonchalance. “She was too busy dealing with her eyes. She got shampoo in them.”
I’ve imagined grasping her hand and leading her to the shower to rinse the shampoo out of her hair before taking her against the wall of the shower about a million times since this afternoon. I had to rush home after work and jack off in the shower or I would have shown up to meet Weston with a raging hard-on for his sister.
The bartender slams two bottles of beer on the counter in front of us. “Two Five Fathoms Summer IPAs. Courtesy of the ladies over there.” He nods to a group of women sitting at a table near the stage.
Weston raises his bottle and salutes them with it. “I do love tourist season.”
It’s barely June and I’m already over it.
“Are you coming to the poker game next week?”
And be forced to spend the evening fighting a hard-on every time I catch a glimpse of Sophia? “Nah. I’m backed up at work.”
He frowns. “You’re never too busy for a family gathering.”
“It’s not my family. It’s yours.”
He scowls. “What the hell are you talking about? My family is your family.”
Which is the reason why I need to keep my grubby paws off of Sophia. Weston is my family. My only family. He’d castrate me if I touched his little sister. It’s why I told him about the kiss in the first place. I didn’t want him to hear it from someone else. He would have decked me before I had the chance to explain.
I didn’t expect him to tell the entire island his little sister had a crush on his best friend. Does he not realize how he humiliated Sophia? How he drove her away? My hand tightens on my bottle until my knuckles ache.
“The deadline for the resort is looming. I can’t come to work hungover.”
He chuckles. “If your poker skills were better, you wouldn’t end up drunk.”
“We could play normal poker instead of drunk poker.”
“Normal poker’s boring.”
I don’t know why I asked. The Milton family doesn’t believe in doing anything normal. Sunday family meal? Nope. They’d rather play drunk poker.
The Milton family may be crazy, but they’ve always been there for me. They even let me live with them in high school after my mom died and my dad took off.
Beating up a kid who was picking on Weston in second grade was the best decision I ever made. Weston joined me during my month of detention, and we’ve been best friends since. He isn’t just my best friend. He’s my brother in all but blood.
Which is why I am never going to touch Sophia. Her older brother would kill me. And I’d let him.
“Incoming,” Weston mutters.
I glance over my shoulder and watch as two women approach us. Their smiles are predatory, their boobs are fake, and I want nothing to do with them.
“The blonde is mine.”
Good. Because I can’t touch blonde women. Not when every blonde reminds me of Sophia.
“Who says the blonde wants you? Maybe they both want me.” My words are all bluff. Since I don’t want either one of these women.
He stands. “I guess we’ll find out.” He grins at the women. “Hello, ladies. How may we be of service to you today?”
The blonde rakes her gaze over him. “I can think of a way or two for you to be of service.”
Weston wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s discuss further.”
They wander away, and I face the brunette. I lift my bottle. “Want a drink?”
Her nose wrinkles. “Not a beer. Beer’s gross.”
I open my mouth to ask her old she is – adults shouldn’t use the word gross – but I shut it again when I realize it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know how old she is. We’re not going to end up tangled between the sheets anyway.
“What can I get you instead?” I motion to the bartender.
She draws a finger down my arm, and I have to lock my muscles before I shiver in disgust. I don’t want anyone touching me but Sophia.
But I can’t have the woman of my dreams. I would never repay the kindness Weston and his parents showed me by disrespecting them. They took me in when no one else would. When everyone else on the island said I was a problem child and should go to juvie.
I push thoughts of Sophia out of my mind. It should be easy enough. I’ve been doing it for more than a decade now.