20. Reid
“A little to the left.”
I move the painting to the left a solitary inch. “Good?”
“No, that was too far.”
So, I move it back to the right.
“That’s perfect.”
Right where I had it the first time.
I chuckle, marking the spot on the wall and grabbing a nail from my pocket. Nova’s gran is something else. I can see where Nova gets her fire from. She’s been having me help her with little odd tasks all day and despite my desire to run off and hunt her granddaughter down, I’ve done every one.
Gran is nothing like my grandma. Where Nova’s is feisty, but maternal, mine was cold and distant. She cared for me after Mom died, only because without her, I probably would have been dead. If living with Dad was hell, living with Mom’s mother would have been something like purgatory.
In the week since Nova’s parents were here, Gran and Pap started taking an interest in what I’ve been doing around the inn. Some days, pap will join me on the third floor, supervising, as Nova would say, telling me stories from out on the water.
I haven’t told Nova. I think he’s lonely. It’s just one more thing for her to have to worry about and with Tara and Manto’s wedding in a couple weeks being held at the inn and the end of tourist season bringing more guests than usual, she’s got enough on her plate.
I manage to get all the busted floorboards on the third floor replaced, as well as rip out the section of wall where a pipe’s been leaking, getting it patched up, too. Nova is ecstatic and I can’t say I’m not proud of my own work, seeing how big of a relief it is for her.
After Saturday night, I told myself I’d back off. Start removing myself from her life, but then I woke up Sunday to her soft and sweet and grinding against my cock. Then, Monday, I found myself searching her out because I couldn’t get her out of my head. Tuesday, we ended up going for a walk down the beach and somehow, it ended up with her on the sand underneath me, my fingers buried inside her and my lips swallowing the sounds of her moans. Wednesday, I gave up.
Now, I’m trying to fix the heat because Gran said she was cold this morning.
I fucking hate this boiler.
“She got you working off a debt or are you that whipped?”
I don’t have to look up to know Manto has just joined me in the little basement alcove that doubles—according to Nova—as a portal to hell. She’s convinced it’s haunted, though the only thing that’s been scary so far has been a spider the size of my fucking fist, just lurking in the background.
“It needs fixed,” I grunt, messing with shit I know nothing about.
I’ll be honest, when Sophie brought it up, I knew it wasn’t the job for me, but then Nova told me about how expensive it is to get people to come out to the island to fix things, I just . . . couldn’t let her do it on her own.
So, here I am, fixing a century-old boiler in an old and musty basement in the off chance it makes her smile.
Manto’s right. I am fucking whipped.
“I told her to hire someone,” Manto says, taking a seat on an old stack of lumber that looks like it crossed the Atlantic on the Mayflower. “She’s stubborn.”
I snort, turning some old nuts with a wrench so I can feel like I’m doing something, at least. “Tell me about it.”
“Saw you spent the day with her family yesterday. How did that go?”
Chucking the wrench down, I fall on my ass on the floor and rest my elbows on my knees, defeated. Might be time to have Beth look the boiler up on the internet and print me out instructions on how to bring the dead back to life.
“They’re good people.”
Manto nods, though his expression is anything but cheery.
“They are, I guess.”
I eye him as he runs his tongue over his gold tooth, seemingly lost in thought.
“You guess?”
He shrugs. “They were pretty hard on Nova about moving out here and taking care of the inn. Just didn’t sit well with me. She’s young, but she’s got a good head on her shoulders. She’s smart. Too nice for the likes of people like you and me.”
You can say that again.
“Have you ever thought about finding something else?”
“No. Cooking’s what I love. I told Nova, so long as she’s here, I’ll be here. This family’s done a lot for me. For the town. I want to be a part of that.”
“Sounds like a damn Hallmark movie,” I mutter, scrubbing my hands on my jeans. Beth is going to be pissed when I hand her my laundry—she’s been doing it for me, refusing to allow me to do it myself because, as she says, Old Clunk isn’t the easiest beast to wrangle.
Manto chuckles, running his hand over the back of his head.
“How you think I landed Tara?”
“Touché.”
“You hear about your boat, yet?”
I shake my head, moving back to the boiler. I can see a few disconnected lines hanging out in the back, right by the Godzilla of spiders.
“No, but I’m going to have to go out tomorrow. Already got a boat lined up with Al.”
“You need help?”
I pause, looking back at him. “You fish?”
“I know my way around the job. If you need help, I can come out with you.”
I almost tell him no. I’ve never fished lobster with another person, but . . . I’m pretty fucking far behind. It would take weeks on my own to catch everything up and with my helping at the inn, my time is getting limited.
Part of me enjoys that I’ve been able to keep busy while trapped on the island. I can fix things around the inn that most people probably don’t know how to do; help Nova. Maybe pull her in a closet like I did this afternoon, just so I can catch a few seconds alone with her.
The other part, the part of me that enjoys the freedom the water gives me, fucking hates it. It’s not what my life is. I’m not a schedule man. I don’t do anything by the book and that stagnant feeling I’m always waiting for will surely creep in when I’m least expecting it.
It feels like having my cake and eating it, too. I get a few weeks with the girl of my dreams, then I get to live the life I want, alone. It’s the alone part that’s gotten to my head the past couple days.
Nova still thinks I’m a good guy. She still thinks I’m nothing like Higgins, the vulture from Portland. In truth, we’re the same. He’s an asshole, looking to take the inn from her. I’m the asshole, looking to take her. We’re both monsters. Just with different faces.
“We’ll leave at five in the morning. That too early for you?”
“I’m an early riser. I’ll be there.”
He holds out his hand for me to shake and I do. As I’m doing so, a cord laying on the floor behind catches my eye.
“Plug that in.”
Manto reaches down, connecting the plug to the socket and the boiler whirs to life.
“Are you fucking shitting me?”
“See,” Manto jokes. “You need me around. I’ll tell Nova you fixed the boiler, though. Help you get laid. I’m going to get laid, regardless.”
I actually laugh at that because only he would say something so fucking stupid.
“Shut the hell up.”
“So, what are you going to do with all your money after you’re done crabbing?”
Manto showed up to the docks right on time this morning. Oddly enough, I like having him around, despite his never-ending need to make fucking small talk.
Usually.
Today, I’d much rather be out on the water by myself, so I can think. After last night when I found myself in her bed, again. . . shit’s changed between Nova and I. It’s not just sex and it’s not what I signed up for.
Unfortunately, I also don’t want it to end. Whatever the fuck it is.
I can recognize, with some annoyed clarity, that I’ve gotten attached to someone for the first time in my life since Mom died and with that, I’m pissed at the world. Pissed at her for being so goddamned perfect. Pissed at myself for being the way I am, also for the first time in my life. Pissed at Jack for existing.
If I was normal, maybe this could work. I’d come out on the water, maybe hire Manto to help out. I’d come home, Nova and I would have dinner and I’d bury myself inside her until neither of us could keep our eyes open. In the morning, we’d get up and do it all over again.
Fuck, what a picture.
She doesn’t even know me. Not the real me and the shit I’ve done. She wouldn’t want me for who I am if she knew the demons that chased me from North Carolina in the first place. More than a drunken bastard of a father. More than shitty foster homes.
“You good?” Manto asks, and I realize I’ve been ignoring him.
“Yeah,” I grit, hauling another trap up. “Sorry.”
“Something on your mind?”
“No. Just thinking about the trip.”
Manto nods, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me for even a second.
“You know, I didn’t mean to stay here.”
I pause, lobster in hand, and just stare at him, not sure what to say.
“Okay?”
“I’m serious. I was only going to work here for a while, but . . . this place sucked me in.”
“You mean, Tara sucked you in.”
He shrugs. “Her, too. She was a big part of it.” He tosses a couple lobsters that are too small to keep back in the water and moves the ones we can sell into the wet tank after he bands their claws. “This place, though. There’s something special about it. You know I did time in prison?”
Nova told me, but I shake my head. “What for?”
“Drugs. Got I with a gang down in Florida.”
“So, why did you come here?”
“Had to get away. Made my way up here. Came here on a lobster boat, a lot like this one. Pap hired me, knowing what I’d done and when I asked him about it later, he just shrugged. Nova says he knows good people when he meets them. He hired Crusty that way, too.”
That sounds like something she’d say. The mention of her name has me thinking about her husband and what Pap’s ideas of Jack were, but asking Pap may as well be the same thing as asking a brick wall. I’ve been talking to him. Just a bit every day, and while we swap stories of the water, our asshole fathers, and life on the island, I’m careful never to let it stray toward Nova.
“Manto . . . did you know Jack?”
I replace the bait in the trap and toss it back in the water as we move on to the next one. Manto’s quiet for a moment, thinking. Probably wondering what all he can tell me.
“Manto, I know. Just say it.”
“I met him once or twice. He was a real nice guy,” he nods, giving me this kind of solemn half-smile that doesn’t quiet meet his eyes. “To everyone but Nova.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, the pissed off animalistic side of me growling low and menacingly in my head.
When Manto realizes I’m waiting for him to explain, he lets out a sigh.
“Look, Jack was the golden boy. Mama babied him, so he never did anything wrong. He was always kind and respectful to me, but I didn’t like the way he would treat Nova. Just like . . . she was replaceable. She did everything for him and he still took her for granted. I think that’s why everyone’s so protective of her, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
Manto watches me for a moment later, studying me.
“Whatever you two got going on, it’s none of my business. As much as Tara would love for me to ask about it. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
I think I already have, but I don’t tell him that.
“Yeah,” I nod, moving back to the traps. “Got it.”
“You going to come to my wedding?” he asks, changing the subject. I’m glad. I need to get Nova off my fucking mind. At least, for as long as I can. I know it’s a matter of time before she’s right there, burning in the center of my brain.
“Are you inviting me?”
“No,” he taunts, chuckling as he tosses a crab in the water. “Yeah, I want you to come.”
“I don’t have anything to wear to a wedding.”
He shakes his head. “Wear what you got on. Be Nova’s date.”
I look down at the fishing gear covering my body and Manto chuckles.
“Okay, maybe not those. But, you know?”
“Alright. I’ll be there.”