28. Mac
I’ve never considered myself a particularly social person. Which is stupid, because I run a bar, a known social gathering spot. But I like seeing people enjoy themselves while I’m safely at a distance. I like hiring the best, most outgoing staff, who thrive when they’re covered in people.
Like this evening. Tonight is the first milestone in Shelby’s update to my bar, and somehow, the whole goddamn town seems to have heard about it.
Tourists too.
The new patio, which fills what used to be a grassy, empty spot between the bar and the boardwalk that lines this end of the beach, is jammed full of people, half of whom I’ve never seen before. There are several tables full inside too. The heat lamps are fired up outside to ward off the breeze coming in off the ocean even now as the sun’s starting to come down. String lights crisscross across the space, and baskets filled with spring blooms hang on every post. I’ve hired two new servers, plus a handful more kitchen staff, and they’re all working like a well-oiled machine.
If we stopped here, I’d be fuckin’ tickled. This is more business than the Dinghy has seen in years.
But Shelby’s got more plans afoot.
Lana comes up to me, an empty tray under her arm. “Hello, boss.”
I grunt, arms folded, as I look out across the crowd to where Shelby stands next to her friend from the city, who came up for the patio opening.
I’ve just finished an overly long conversation with Fred, before which I was speaking to her mother, who’s brought her surprisingly rowdy sewing circle. I need a little silence for a moment while I take it all in.
“I know I’m interrupting your staring at Shelby time,” Lana says, “but I wanted to catch you alone to tell you this is…incredible.”
I scowl. “I wasn’t staring.”
“You were staring.”
I scrub my face with my hand. “What’s wrong with looking at her?”
“Nothing at all.”
I look down at Lana. She’s probably the closest thing to my best friend, next to Cal, who’s currently yukking it up at the stand-up section of the patio Shelby insisted on including. I thought no one would use a bar area out there, but it turns out people like milling around with a drink where they have a view of the water.
I should know better than to doubt Shelby.
I should also know better than to ask Lana what the hell she’s after, since I know she’s not just making small talk.
I sigh and do it anyway. “Spit it out.”
“Have you told her?”
“Told her what?”
“Oh, you know. That you’re head over heels for her.”
My stomach flips. “Why do you think that?”
Lana gives me a look like I’m twice as stupid as she already thought I was. “Because my senses are all functioning normally, Mac. Besides, a brick wall could see that you’re crazy about her.”
I grit my teeth, then take a swig of the one beer I’ve allowed myself for this opening. “Fine. So what?”
“So she’s set to leave, isn’t she?” Lana asks. “When Chris and I were out for drinks with her and Deanie last night, we were all talking about our summer plans.”
I don’t look at Lana, just at Shelby. She laughs at something Deanie says. I raise a hand to my chest, rubbing involuntarily at my sternum.
“Shelby got quiet,” Lana continues. “She said she had to go back to Vancouver because she had an account she had to handle herself.”
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s important to her business.”
“It sounds like she’s important to her business.”
I grit my teeth. “What’s your point, Lana?”
“My point is that if you love her, you need to talk to her. I think she wants to talk to you about it, but she’s worried about bringing it up to you.”
“What? Why would she be scared to talk to me about anything? She can talk to me about anything.”
“She said you guys were still hiding your relationship from Nate.”
My stomach tightens.
“Why are you doing that?”
There are some days I wish I hired less smart women. I hate it when Lana gets like this. I feel like I’m being cross-examined.
“Because—” I grumble, then take a sip of beer. My hand feels sweaty on the bottle.
“Because you don’t want him to get attached, right?”
I glare at Lana. “That makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“It would if you didn’t want a future with Shelby.”
I sputter. Then I take another angry sip from my beer. Fuck her for being so fucking insightful. “I never should have hired you,” I say bitterly. My stomach feels scraped out. “So what the fuck do I do?”
“I don’t know, Mac. Talking about it’s probably a good first step.”
We both look at Shelby now. She’s lit up. She looks vibrant and happy and in her element. She must feel my gaze on her this time, because she looks up and meets my eye, waving. I lift my fingers. I want to go over there and scoop her up, tell her I’ll do everything I can to make her happy here, in Redbeard.
“Mac?” Lana says.
“Yeah, Lana,” I reply. “I know.”
I set down my beer bottle on the bus tray beside me. “Thanks,” I say as I stride across the patio.
“Mac!” Lana exclaims. “I didn’t necessarily mean right now!”
I ignore her, walking right up to Shelby.
“Hello again,” I say to Deanie. Easier than looking at Shelby.
Her friend swallows hard. “Oh. Hi!”
“Hey, you,” Shelby says, looking like she’s trying not to laugh. She rests a hand on my arm, and I almost chicken out.
Maybe Lana’s wrong—I can just spend the next couple of weeks pretending everything’s fine, and when the time comes, everything will just work itself out.
But I’m not an idiot, or at least not that much of one. I hope.
“Did you see Elizabeth came?” Shelby says, pointing out the older woman in a paisley onesie of some kind sitting with Beatrice and her sewing circle friends.
“Wow. I haven’t seen her here in years.” I’m impressed.
“Are they fighting?” Deanie asks. Bea and Elizabeth are exchanging words.
“Yeah, but it looks like they’re enjoying it,” Shelby says.
She’s right. The older women are sparring, but there’s a smirk on each of their faces.
“Reminds me of Clientzilla,” Shelby says to Deanie. “The woman loves to pick a fight.”
“Speaking of which,” Deanie says to me, “she’s at practically death-threat levels of trying to get Shelby back to the office.”
Shelby’s smile falters.
Deanie immediately backpedals. “I just mean, she really wants to see you face-to-face ahead of her event. But it’s totally fine. I told her she had to wait until next month.”
“No, you should see her,” I say to Shelby.
“What?” Shelby asks.
“I mean, let’s take a trip to the city. To celebrate CP3O.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Deanie asks.
Shelby covers her mouth to hide a laugh. “I think he means C3PO. But it’s R2D2, sweetie. And we’re only at the first stage.”
I scowl, even though her calling me sweetie makes me feel like I’m wrapped in a fuzzy blanket. “Yeah. That.”
“Are you serious about Vancouver, though?” she asks.
“Of course. You can show me all those restaurants you’re always talking about, and you can have a meeting with your client. Stave her off for a bit.”
“Oh my God,” Deanie says. “Honestly, even just twenty minutes of face time with her would be extremely helpful.”
“I can take Nate,” says a voice. I turn around to see Cal. How long has he been standing there? “I’ve been promising to take him surfing over in Tofino, and I don’t have anything going on this weekend.”
Deanie’s staring openly at Cal, who gives her his stupid woman-magnet grin, introducing herself.
Lana and I roll our eyes.
Shelby’s face is filled with hope. But she bites her lip. “That okay with you?”
“I’d have to ask Nate,” I say.
“Like he’d say no,” Cal says. “I’m like the cool uncle.”
I roll my eyes. But really, I’m grateful for his offer. I’d fully prepared for it to be a family weekend, but it’ll be easier to have the conversation we need to have on our own.
“I guess we’re going on a trip together, then,” Shelby says, finally relaxing. She makes a little eek sound, and I chuckle, despite the nerves still rattling through me. “I guess so,” I say, pulling her in for a kiss. Everyone around us cheers.
The ferry ride over is almost as beautiful as the woman next to me peering over the railing.
Shelby’s ponytail flies in the breeze, and she laughs as she points out to the ocean where, in the distance, the unmistakable shape of a dorsal fin emerges from the water.
“Did you see it?” she cries.
The captain made an announcement about a pod of orcas on the starboard side of the boat, and Shelby insisted we race out to see them. I knew there’d be a rush of tourists crowding the deck and reminded her that we can see them from the deck of my place.
But she gaped, already pulling on her jacket. “I will never miss an opportunity to see an orca whale,” Shelby admonished. “They’re my second favorite animal after my beloved goofy camel.”
I laughed and reluctantly followed her out onto the deck.
We found a spot with relatively few people, and I have to say, I’m glad now. Seeing her like this only cements what I know I need to do this weekend.
When we finally arrive in the city a few hours later, Shelby’s still got a skip in her step. Our first stop is her place. It’s in a downtown neighborhood away from the office district, with older buildings, leafy-treed streets, and a busy street nearby lined with restaurants and shops.
“It’s almost like a small town in the city,” I remark as we head inside.
“See?” She smiles, looking so happy. “It’s not all bad.”
The condo itself is so Shelby it makes the air leave my lungs. The furniture is soft and plush and in all bright colors. There’s a whole wall covered in different sized frames, filled with photos and paintings that don’t appear to have any cohesion—except for all the camels—but work all together. She’s got about a hundred houseplants, all lovingly cared for. “My neighbor,” she explains when I ask her how they’ve stayed alive. “She’s eighty-one and pretty much my best friend. We bond over trips to the garden store.”
I meet her neighbor. She’s an elderly Chinese woman with enormous glasses and short white hair. She comes approximately up to my lowest rib, but she still swears that if I do anything to hurt her Shelby, she’ll straight-up murder me. “I have plenty of shovels. And I know which endangered species to plant over your body. They’ll never find you.”
“Mrs. Liu!” Shelby says, but she’s holding her stomach she’s laughing so hard.
Luckily Mrs. Liu winks at me before she leaves, which Shelby assures me means I’m probably safe.
Shelby has her meeting with Clientzilla this afternoon. It’s Friday, and she says she wants to not have to think about it for the rest of the weekend. But as she gets dressed in a sexy power suit she pulls out of her bedroom closet, she hums what I swear is the Rocky theme. She doesn’t look like she’s particularly dreading the meeting. She looks like she’s in her element, sticking on these tasteful gold droplet earrings and straightening her suit jacket.
“What time is your meeting?” I ask from my spot on the bed. I’m lying back with my arms behind my head, watching her through the open door of the bathroom.
Watching her round ass, specifically, as she bends over and digs around in the lower cabinet.
“It’s in an hour,” she says. Then she turns around, batting her lashes. “Why?”
I rise up on my elbows. “Because I need to know if I have time to fuck you first.”
“Mac!” she says as if scandalized, but a moment later, she’s crawling onto the bed with me. “Twist my rubber arm. But it has to be quick.”
“You know I can do quick,” I say. “I shouldn’t admit that openly, should I?”
Shelby laughs. She’s told me a hundred times how she loves how I can’t control myself around her.
She moves to pull off her jacket, but I place my hand on hers. “Leave it on. I want to fuck you in that suit.”
“I can’t show up to my meeting with sex wrinkles!”
“Then we’ll just have to keep you on top.”
Her eyes flare.
I unbutton her shirt for her without sitting up, tugging her bra down. Even before her breasts are free, my dick strains hard against my zipper. When they are, I know I’ve got a full hard-on. Still, I’m a glutton for punishment, so I say, “Come here,” beckoning her to lean over me so her tits fall into my mouth.
“Oh, God,” Shelby says, dipping her body in a rhythm that has me licking and sucking at her will instead of mine. I fucking love it.
Finally I reach down between us and unbuckle my pants, needing to free my painfully constrained cock.
“Come up here,” I tell her, stroking myself.
“Where?”
I point to my face.
“You want me to?—”
“Sit on my face? Yes.”
“No.”
I frown. “Why not?”
“I’ll squish you.”
“I like being squished.”
“Okay, then I’ll suffocate you.”
“Shelby, I have my technical diving certification. I think I can handle it.”
She laughs but still looks concerned. “But what if you can’t breathe?”
“I don’t need to breathe right now.”
Done with her protests, I hook my arms over her thighs and pull her up and onto me before she can say anything else. She tries to hover, but I pull down, forcing her to set all her weight on me.
Fuck yes. My cock springs as her pussy bears down on my face. I pull one hand out to hold her open for me while I go to work on her clit.
She gasps, and I look up to the most incredible view. The underside of the most beautiful tits in the world, and above, her face, looking down on me, too consumed with the feel of me devouring her pussy to be self-conscious anymore. I work on her clit while my other hand finds my cock. I give myself long, languid strokes, only letting go when I know I’m going to come if I don’t stop.
When she orgasms, she grinds herself on me, and I really can’t breathe now, but I don’t fucking care. This would truly be the best way to go.
But a moment later, she’s off me, panting, and I reach into my pocket for a condom. I stuck them everywhere because I’m too paranoid about going without, despite that one fucking beautiful time I nearly came in her pussy bare.
While Shelby getting pregnant wouldn’t be the worst thing in my books, the last thing I want to do is tie her to me when she’s still figuring things out.
I slip the condom on, and a moment later, Shelby’s riding my cock, her hands still on the headboard as she bounces up and down with the help of my hands on her hips.
We come together only a moment later—I really am shamelessly unable to not come almost right away once I’m inside her. I usually do better with round two.
Finally Shelby collapses on top of me. “You’re ruining me, Alasdair,” she whispers in my ear.
Fuck, I love it when she calls me that. “I plan to ruin you several more times this weekend.”
She laughs, and I try not to fall into the sound.