Chapter 12 #2
Duke affected a crushed expression. “He’s absolutely no fun.”
“She knows otherwise,” Jace said with a smile and a wink for Cindy, who turned bright red. God, he loved that blush.
“I should’ve been a massage therapist.” Duke held up his hands. “I have the hands for it.”
“If you say so,” Sierra said, rolling her eyes.
“Let me ask you something,” Duke said. “What do you do when a client farts during a massage?”
Everyone around him lost it laughing.
Jace shook his head. Leave it to Duke. He had tattoos on every square inch of skin, right up to his jawline, where he seemed to have come to his senses just in time. The art was colorful and interesting. Jace had to give him that much.
“You act like it didn’t happen,” Sierra said, responding to Duke’s question.
“So it happens a lot?” Duke asked.
“From time to time. It’s no biggie. Everyone farts.” Sierra leaned across Cindy, lowering her voice. “You want to hear the craziest thing that’s ever happened?”
“Uh, yeah?” Duke said, brows raised.
“I once had a guy who was so relaxed, he crapped himself right on the table.”
“Stop it!” Cindy sputtered with laughter. “No way.”
“True story.”
“What’d you do?” Duke asked, wide-eyed.
“I had to nudge him to let him know something had happened. He was mortified and apologized profusely. I gave him towels to clean himself up and then rolled up the bedclothes and threw them in the dumpster. Shockingly, he never came back.”
“I would literally die of embarrassment,” Cindy said as she rocked with laughter.
“It was pretty funny,” Sierra said. “We laughed about it for weeks.”
“I’m sticking with tats,” Duke said. “Ain’t never had anyone crap themselves in my chair.”
“Yet,” Sierra said.
“Don’t jinx me, woman!”
Jace loved this bar and the people who came in to keep his evenings entertaining. Not even a looming hurricane could dampen the fun at the Beachcomber. He delivered chowder to Cindy as Sierra moved over to talk to Duke and the guys with him. “That was hilarious,” he said.
“I’m dying just thinking about it. I may have to give up my massage habit.”
“Don’t do that. You enjoy it too much.”
“Still… I can’t believe that can even happen.”
“Sierra said it’s happened once in what I assume has been a long career.”
“She’s been doing massage for twelve years.”
“There you have it. Once in twelve years. I think you’re safe to continue getting massages.” He placed a rolled napkin containing silverware for the rest of her meal in front of her. “Any word on Deacon?”
“Not yet.”
“How’s Julia?”
“Not good. She’s with Katie and Shane. I asked Katie if I should go over there, but she said they’re trying to encourage Julia to get some rest.”
“That’s probably not going to happen.”
“That’s what I thought, too. I feel so bad for her. She’s so, so happy with him. If anything happens…”
“He’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”
Cindy’s phone chimed with a text. “It’s from Katie. They found him. Oh my God. Joe and Seamus spotted him floating at sea on his upside-down boat.”
“Wow. He got lucky.”
“Thank goodness. Julia must be sick with relief.” Cindy typed a response to her sister. “Katie says Julia can’t stop crying since Deacon called her.”
“I’m so glad he’s okay.”
“Me, too.” Cindy released a deep breath. “All I could think about was what would happen to Julia if he didn’t come home.”
Jace put his hand over hers. “It’s okay to exhale. Everything is okay.”
“When these things happen… It’s sort of triggering for us.”
“I understand, but Deacon is okay, and Julia will be, too.”
She nodded and took a sip from the fresh glass of water he handed to her. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I hate to see you worried or upset about anything.”
“It helps to have someone to lean on at times like this.”
“I’m happy to have you lean on me any time you need to.”
“That’s apt to be a lot.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m worried about what’s to become of our island after this storm.”
“Whatever happens, we’ll rebuild better than before. That’s what Mac told us at work earlier. He said there’s nothing that can’t be fixed except loss of life. He said to stay safe and to keep the faith.”
“Good advice.”
“I was comforted by it. I hope you are, too.”
“I am. It’s true. If we’re all safe, we can fix what’s broken after the fact.”
“That’s right.”
He no sooner said those words than one of the large plate-glass windows rattled from a particularly strong gust of wind. The rain was coming down so hard, he could barely see through it.
Matilda, the Beachcomber’s night manager, came into the bar. “Let’s start to shut down, Jace. The storm is getting closer, and we need everyone to get home safely.”
“Will do,” Jace said. “You heard the boss. Last call.”
Much moaning and groaning greeted that announcement.
Jace was busy for the next few minutes, pouring refills and settling tabs. He made multiple runs to the kitchen and delivered food to Cindy and several others.
“Oh, that looks good,” she said. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Enjoy.”
While she ate, he moved quickly to get the bar cleaned up and more tabs settled as the crowd started to thin out.
“Go with God, y’all,” Duke said when he stood to leave. “And come in afterward for your ‘Fuck Ethel’ tats.”
“We’ll run right over,” Jace said, grinning.
Thirty minutes after the last call, everyone was gone except for Cindy.
Jace cleared her plate and pushed her credit card back toward her. “All set, love.”
“You can’t keep paying my tab!”
“Says who?”
“Says me. You’re working to make money, not spend it.”
“I’m making plenty working for Mac. I still do this gig one night a week for fun, as you know.”
“Still… You shouldn’t be paying for me all the time.”
“Why?”
“Because!”
“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” He grabbed the cash bag and shut off the lights over the bar. “Let’s go home and continue this argument naked.”
“We will continue it,” she said when he came around the bar and took her hand.
“I can’t wait.”