18. I’m Going to Get Naked #3
Matt shifts on the bench and it creaks. “Festival in Dillingham. Named after those tiny bugs that end up biting you before you can see ‘um. That’s where the name comes from.”
Now that he mentions it, I’ve felt bites but haven’t seen too many mosquitoes.
“And,” Matt goes on, “that’s where the fish-filleting contest is.”
“Oh, yeah! The competition your wife is the champion of,” I say, snapping my fingers at the memory of that conversation.
Tuma shakes his finger in the air. “Not champion. Reigning queen. I have to correct you because she will correct you, and I’d rather you hear it from me.”
“Because he’s nicer,” Jesse says.
Tuma elbows Jesse in the side. “My wife is nice.”
“To you,” Jesse spits in return. “She’d slice me up with an ulu faster than she can fillet a salmon if I say the wrong thing.”
“Have you ever considered you deserve it?” Matt heaps on his own insult to the pile.
Jesse grits his teeth toward his brother. “Bite me.”
I laugh into my hand. Are all little siblings like this? I bet Sarah and Jesse would have a field day together. They’d either tear each other’s heads off or be a duo as dynamic as Team Rocket from Pokémon. “What’s an ulu?” I ask.
“So many questions,” Jesse responds.
“I’m curious! So what?”
His lips twitch. Is that a smile? Did I make the ice king smile?
I’m not the only one who notices. Matt does too. His hand lands against my thigh, and he squeezes it. My stomach swoops in response. He’s making it difficult to keep my feelings at bay.
Tuma, thankfully, circles back to the subject at hand. “It’s a traditional Alaskan knife with a curved blade. It’s perfect for filleting fish and dressing other animals, but you can use it for other stuff too.”
“Tuma gives great haircuts,” Matt says.
I laugh.
Jesse gives a small shake of his head. “He’s being serious.”
My jaw falls open, and my eyes fly toward Tuma. The Aleut man gives a small shrug. “I’m still learning how to do layers,” he says as if it’s not impressive enough he cuts hair with something other than shears.
Our conversation is interrupted when a bottle lands harshly at the end of the table, and a man with a pompous chest and scratchy-looking facial hair looms over us. “I’m going out for Dolly Varden tomorrow.”
Matt chuckles. “How about a ‘hello,’ Lefty?”
Lefty’s lip curls as he appraises Matt and then me. “Been hearing you’ve been taking this one out on your boat.”
“This one has a name, and she’s right here. So, you can be an adult and treat her with some respect,” Matt says without batting an eye.
I don’t demure except wanting to giggle and flush at Matt’s defense of me. “Lillian,” I say, holding out my hand to Lefty.
He isn’t happy about shaking my hand, but he does it. And when his hand retreats, he wipes it on his pant leg. Wow. “You two going out tomorrow? I could use some extra hands.”
“Are you trying to poach my crew?” Matt balks, leaning his forearms on the table, his hands turning to fists.
“You’ve been out doing God knows what with Little Miss Climate Change,” Lefty says with a sneer. “You’re not using your men. They need to eat, don’t they? And they don’t make money when you’re off doing . . . whatever you’re doing out there.”
“Hold on,” I interrupt. “What do you think we’re doing out there?”
Lefty scoffs. “I know what it means when you take a woman out on your boat and don’t come back until the next day. Wasn’t born yesterday.”
“It’s not like that,” Matt says, calm, but agitated. “She’s working.”
“Sure, she is,” Lefty says under his breath.
Suddenly, Matt gets up from his seat and squares up with Lefty. “You want to say that a bit louder?”
My eyes are so wide they might fall out of my skull. I glance at Tuma who is just as surprised, and Jesse, whose hand is flat on the table, no doubt ready to launch himself up to intercede if he must.
“Oh, come on, Benton, you’re being a drama queen,” Lefty says, smacking the back of his hand against Matt’s chest.
“Look, Lefty, you’re the last one I’m gonna let get away with being a fucking jagoff about her, because she’s trying to help us.”
Lefty groans. “That’s what they all say. You know how they are.”
“I do! Because I’ve had a firsthand account of what she’s doing. She’s smart. She’d run circles around all of us. And she cares, she’s a—Lillian’s a good person. And you can take that back to your cronies,” Matt says, tossing his hand down toward one of the other communal tables.
When Lefty says nothing, Matt turns back to us. “We’ll go out tomorrow for Dolly Varden. On my boat.”
“Ah, dammit, Matt, don’t be spiteful!” Lefty exclaims.
“And you—” Matt points a finger at me, his fiery gaze meeting mine. “You’re coming with us.”
I realize the entire diner is quiet. They’re listening in, wondering what kind of drama the outsider is causing. “A-are you sure?”
Matt scrubs his hand down the lower part of his face and doubles down with a firm nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
If I wasn’t just one of the guys, I’d leap up and kiss this man. In fact, I’m not convinced I can resist kissing him much longer.