CHAPTER FIVE #3
“It is. I do what I can to cheer him up when he comes into the Rusty Anchor.” She sighed, avoiding my gaze. “You know, as a friend.”
“Of course.” It was hard to keep a straight face. The intimacy I’d seen between her and Gil hadn’t been platonic. I was sure of that. And the way she was speaking so carefully about their “friendship” made me positive they were sleeping together.
I cleared my throat. “Eddie and Gil split the profits fifty-fifty, is that true?”
She nodded. “I believe so.” She frowned. “Why?”
“Oh, I was just curious.” The day I’d interviewed Rosa, she’d stressed how broke she and Eddie had always been.
If Gil had a big savings account, and they’d split the profits fifty-fifty, why hadn’t Eddie had any money saved up?
Sure, Eddie had been supporting a family, and a single guy would naturally save more.
But enough to make a generous offer on a commercial fishing boat? That was a big gap.
“Hopefully it all works out for Gil.” She set some romaine lettuce in her basket, looking a bit distracted. “Anyway, I… I should finish up my shopping. It was nice talking to you, Spencer.”
“You too, Tess.”
She walked away toward the checkout, and I headed toward the meat section.
I wanted to get some fresh fish for dinner.
I was kind of tempted to go to the Rusty Anchor, just in case maybe Declan was there, but thought better of it.
The more I saw him, the more I’d like him, and that was dumb.
I didn’t need to get attached to him. That was the last thing I needed.
Plus, there was a good chance that if Declan did show up, he’d have some chick on his arm.
That idea sounded about as fun as a toothache.
No thanks. I’d just make some fish for dinner and hope one of the avocados was decent enough to eat.
* * *
The week passed uneventfully, and when Friday once more rolled around, I ended up at The Salt & Cleaver for dinner.
It was a trendy place, down by the harbor, with a wraparound deck that overlooked the boats.
It was kind of a date spot and farther for me to walk home from after I’d had a few beers, but I was trying to avoid running into Declan.
I wasn’t in the mood to pretend I wasn’t attracted to him, and since it was Friday, the probability of running into him on a date was higher.
I didn’t have the stomach for that tonight.
So I veered from my normal routine and went to The Salt & Cleaver instead of the Rusty Anchor.
The vibe at The Salt & Cleaver was very different from the Rusty Anchor.
There were exposed brick walls and industrial lighting.
The kitchen was open, and you could see the chefs working.
A chalkboard at the front listed the fresh catch of the day.
Overall, it was a more sophisticated place to dine, with a menu that matched.
They didn’t serve fish and chips here, so I opted for the fish tacos.
They arrived on a matte black plate, two of them lined up side by side.
The tortillas were small and charred in spots, still warm, with just enough give to fold without breaking.
Inside, thick pieces of grilled rockfish sat in flaky layers, the edges kissed with a little smoke from the grill.
Instead of the usual shredded cabbage, there was a crisp slaw of shaved fennel and red cabbage, bright with citrus and just a hint of heat.
The tacos were served with truffle fries, thin-cut, crispy, and dusted lightly with parmesan.
As expected, I was the only person eating alone.
It was mostly couples, some relaxed and established and some new and obviously nervous.
I tried not to feel self-conscious. After all, I should have been used to eating alone by now.
There were far worse things in the world than eating a delicious meal solo.
I was drinking my second Vortex IPA when Declan walked into the restaurant.
I almost choked on my beer, seeing as the whole reason I was eating here tonight was to avoid him.
He was wearing a white shirt with a dark suit jacket and jeans, and he looked sexy AF.
My heart stuttered as I waited for whatever woman he’d have on his arm to make her appearance.
But no one joined him at the host station.
Was she meeting him here? He looked too nicely dressed to be eating alone. He had to be on a date.
Feeling frustrated, I looked at my half-full plate of food.
I tried to gauge whether I could possibly stuff down the rest of my food, slam my beer, and get the hell out of the restaurant before his date arrived.
I resented having to do that, seeing as the meal was pricey and I’d been enjoying the atmosphere.
When I looked up, Declan was staring at me from across the room.
Fuck.
Since he’d already seen me, I gave a half-hearted wave, and he shook his head and started for me.
He stopped near my table, smiling sheepishly.
I had no idea what to say, and I felt a little pathetic sitting alone at my fancy table.
I peered around him, still expecting the blonde from the other night to materialize, but there was no one there.
“We just can’t seem to avoid each other, can we?” he asked huskily. Despite his words, he didn’t seem unhappy to see me.
“I, uh, just thought I should try a new place for once. Man cannot live on fried fish alone.”
He smiled, and I noticed dimples that I’d never noticed before. Of course he had dimples. The man was fucking physical perfection.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked.
“Join me?” I repeated as if I didn’t speak English.
He gestured to the empty chair across from me. “Yes, there’s this thing where two people sit together at a table and eat. Perhaps you’re not familiar with the custom?”
My cheeks warmed. “I have had dinner companions before. I don’t always eat alone.”
He frowned. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean that.” He sighed. “I was just making a joke.”
“Oh.” I gave an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry. I thought you were mocking me.”
He grimaced. “I wasn’t. I’m here alone too. I thought maybe we could eat together, and then it would be less awkward than eating alone.”
“Of course, go ahead and sit.” I was shocked that he wanted to join me. The last time at the Rusty Anchor, it had just kind of happened that we ended up eating together. This time, he was making a conscious decision to eat with me.
He slipped out of his jacket and put it over the back of his chair.
I couldn’t help noticing how nicely the shirt fit his muscular arms and lean torso.
His jeans fit his firm ass very nicely as well, I foolishly noted.
Spending more time with him was definitely playing with fire, but what could I do?
He’d asked to sit with me, and I secretly wanted him to.
He took his seat, and when the curly-haired waitress came over, he pointed to my beer. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
“Yes, sir.” She smiled. “Do you know what you’d like to have for dinner?”
Declan grimaced. “I’ll need a menu. This wasn’t planned. Sorry.”
“No worries.” She gave another warm smile. “I’ll go get your IPA and a menu.”
Once she was gone, he met my gaze, leaning back in his chair. “So, how come you’re eating here instead of the Rusty Anchor?”
I gave an unsteady laugh. “Oh, I just wanted a change of scenery.”
He didn’t look like he believed me. “Come on, admit it. You were avoiding me.”
I leaned toward him. “Why are you here?”
His jaw tensed. “Change of scenery?”
I smiled. “See, it’s a thing.”
He gave a grudging smile. “Apparently.” The waitress returned with his beer and a menu. He scanned it quickly and said, “I’ll have the filet, medium, with the charred shallot butter, and grilled veggies, please.”
“Of course.” She beamed and took his menu. “A man who knows what he wants.”
Declan seemed to blush a little. “That’s true. Although I don’t always get to have what I want.”
She laughed and left us alone.
“I thought you’d be on a date tonight,” I said, sipping my ale.
“Nope.” He tasted his ale and nodded as if he approved. “That’s nice.”
“It’s brewed in Astoria.” I smiled. “I didn’t know that off the top of my head. The waitress told me.”
“And here I thought you were an ale expert.” He sighed. “How disappointing.”
“Oh, trust me. There’s a lot more disappointment coming where I’m concerned.”
I expected he’d smile, but he frowned. “You put yourself down a lot.”
“I’m just joking.” I avoided his gaze, fiddling with the salt shaker.
“I hope so,” he said softly. “Because all I see when I look at you is a very accomplished guy.”
My stomach swirled a little at his compliment. “Well, that’s kind of you to say.”
“I’m not being kind.” He examined his glass of ale. “I’m being truthful.”
Our eyes met over the rim of his glass, and I hated how my body warmed. I didn’t want to be attracted to him, but I seemed incapable of staying neutral. I was going to get hurt if I got too close to him. I’d want more than just friendship if we kept hanging out. It was unavoidable.
I pulled my gaze from his, trying to think of something to say that would get him to stop watching me so intently. A thought came to me and I said casually, “I think Tess and Gil Moran are having an affair.”
His gaze immediately sharpened. “Why?”
I was relieved when he took the bait. “The other night, when we had dinner at the Rusty Anchor, they were flirting with each other before you got there.”
He frowned. “But her husband was there.”
“Yes, but when he arrived, Gil split.” I took a bite of one of my tacos.
“Are you sure they were flirting? Tess is a bartender. Talking with customers is how she makes good tips.” His expression was very serious.
“I’m sure this was more.” I wiped my mouth with my linen napkin. “The way they were with each other, it was intimate. I have no doubt Gil is grieving and maybe she was comforting him, but it was more than that.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “I trust your instincts.”
That pleased me. “Maybe that’s what Gil and Eddie were fighting about before Eddie died.”
Declan’s face tensed. “I can’t discuss the case with you, Spencer.”
I frowned. “I’m not asking you to. I’m telling you what I think. I already know they were fighting. You didn’t tell me that. I found that out from Rosa and everyone else in town.”
He nodded politely when the waitress set his plate in front of him. When he glanced up again, he looked uneasy. “Okay, I guess it is common knowledge Eddie and Gil were having issues.”
“It sure as hell is.” I went back to eating my tacos, and he picked up his fork and steak knife and cut into his filet. We were quiet for a while, just focused on eating.
Eventually, when his plate was almost clean, he set his knife down and met my gaze. “I like spending time with you.” He said it so matter-of-factly, I just stared at him silently, assuming he’d continue. He laughed gruffly when I didn’t speak. “I guess it’s not mutual?”
I grimaced. “No, it is. I… I like hanging out with you too.”
He looked pleased, but then his expression became serious again. “It’s hard though because you’re sharp. You know how to read between the lines. When I’m around you, I have to be careful not to say something that could cost me my job.”
My stomach dropped because I knew what was coming. He was about to deliver a speech about how he really liked me and all, but he couldn’t be around me because it was too risky to his career, blah, blah, blah. I’d known this was probably where we’d end up, but that didn’t make it any less painful.
I took a deep breath and met his uneasy gaze. “It’s okay, Declan. I understand.”
He wrinkled his brow. “What is it you understand?”
“Why you can’t hang out with me. I get it. It’s okay.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You think I’m saying I don’t want to keep hanging out?”
Now it was my turn to frown. “Well, obviously. Why else would you tell me how much you like spending time with me, but then list all the reasons it’s a bad idea?”
“I guess I wasn’t as clear as I thought I was being.” He glanced around and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I can’t talk to you about Eddie’s case.”
I laughed gruffly. “Yeah, I get that. I didn’t ask you about the case. I know how it works, Declan.”
“Okay.” He studied me as if he was looking for some sort of tell. “And you still want to hang out with me? Even though I’m not going to give you any details about the case?”
“I’m sorry.” I gave a confused laugh. “Are you under the impression I’ve spent time with you to get information on Eddie’s case?”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s not inconceivable.”
“Even though I’ve never asked you about the case either of the times we had dinner together?
” I stared at him for a second, trying to decide if he was serious.
“Have you just been waiting for me to ask stuff? Is that it? You actually thought I was pretending to enjoy your company so I could eventually get some details about the case?”
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Feeling hurt, I asked, “Do you think I’m that devious?”
Guilt shifted through his eyes. “Devious isn’t the word I’d use.”
“Jesus, Declan. I… I honestly don’t know what to say.”
He swore under his breath. “You’re misunderstanding me.”
I laughed harshly, scooting back my chair, and stood. “I actually don’t think I am.”
“Spencer.” He stood too, and he moved closer to me. “I wasn’t trying to insult you,” he rasped.
“Well, you did,” I retorted, pulling my wallet out of my back pocket.
“I swear, I wasn’t trying to do that.” He surprised me when he took hold of my arm and said near my ear, “The truth is, I was trying to invite you back to my place.”