Chapter Twenty-Two
Brandee
“H e’s taking you on a boat tonight?” Erin’s voice is excited.
I just told her I’m seeing Brew.
“You heard me,” I say, tucking the phone between my shoulder and cheek as I stir sugar into my coffee.
“Brandee,” she says, “that’s great. Now you’ll find out if the first night was a fluke or if the hot bartender has boyfriend energy.”
“I didn’t say anything about boyfriend anything,” I correct, cringing slightly. “But we’ve been texting a lot.”
“Texting …” She pauses. “How very high school of you.”
“Erin!”
She laughs, and I can hear her flop down onto something soft on the other end of the line. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just … you’re so cute when you’re into a guy. That man had forearms like a Greek sculpture and eyes that could melt panties. Texting isn’t what I’d be doing if I were you.”
“Yeah, well, he’s been working at the bar every night, so this is the first opportunity we’ve had to spend time together.”
“And now that we’re gone, you can spend time together all over the house,” she says smugly.
“Ew. I already feel bad enough that he slept in Aunt Ida’s bed.”
“The sleeping part isn’t what you should feel bad about,” she quips.
“Ugh. Gross. I hate past me,” I mutter.
“You love past you. You climbed that man like he was your personal Mount Everest,” she says.
I groan and cover my face with one hand. “I did not.”
“Whatever. Deny it all you want,” she says with a laugh. “If it bothers you so much, why don’t you just go to his place?”
“I suggested that the other night, but he got all weird and said something about it being messy.”
“Huh.”
“What?” I ask as I take my mug to the couch and sit.
“Every bachelor has a messy house. That usually doesn’t stop them from taking a willing woman home,” she says.
“So, you think he was lying?”
“No, not necessarily,” she says. “He could be the exception.”
“What else could it be?”
“The usual suspects. He lives with his parents. He lives with his wife. He’s a serial killer with bodies buried in the basement.” She ticks off the disturbing list.
“And you didn’t think to mention those possibilities the first night?” I accuse.
“I didn’t know he’d refused to take you to his place,” she says in her defense.
The line goes silent.
“Erin? You still there?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I’m just trying to calculate the odds that he has a wife and three kids he’s hiding from you.”
“Oh my God, stop.”
“Or a dungeon. Or, like, a bunch of jars in his fridge, labeled Past Relationships .”
“You’re the worst,” I say through a laugh, but I can’t help the flicker of doubt that shadows the edge of my voice.
“Seriously, the guy probably lives in some tiny apartment somewhere, maybe even off the island, and he was embarrassed for me to see it.” I sigh.
“I mean, it tracks. He wears shoes that are falling apart and drives a beat-up truck.”
“Yeah, but he also paid for our night’s drinks without blinking,” she says.
He did do that.
“I know. And I tried to give him my card.”
“Maybe he has an open tab that they let him pay off over time, and he just wanted to do something nice for you since he couldn’t afford much more.”
“I wouldn’t care about that,” I say.
“I know that, but he might be used to snobby vacationers who look down their noses at him.”
“That’s true …” I trail off as I think back to our lunch.
“What?” Erin asks like she can read my thoughts.
“I met him at a garage where he works, and he was wearing these jeans that were pretty beat up. Staples held them together,” I tell her.
“Staples? Really?”
“Yeah, I mentioned it to him. Just playing around. He said someone had ripped them at the bar, and he used the stapler to mend them.”
“He works two jobs, so it’s not like he’s a bum,” she says.
“Exactly. There could be a million reasons he’s struggling to make ends meet. He hasn’t got anything to be embarrassed about,” I say.
“So, maybe don’t press to go to his place tonight,” she says.
“Yeah, I think you’re right. But I’m moving my stuff back to the guest room, just in case.”
She whistles low. “You’re so in full Hallmark movie territory.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Oh, come on. A beautiful, single young woman goes to a small coastal town to house-sit for her elderly aunt, where she meets a mysterious yet incredibly attractive bartender with a tragic backstory. My friend, you’re just a few sad piano notes away from a Christmas special.”
I roll my eyes, but can’t stop smiling. “It’s not that serious. I mean, we’ve been texting. We’re hanging out. Some … extracurriculars.”
Erin laughs. “Yep, that’s how it all starts.”
“What? I thought you said I could have an island fling!”
She hums like she’s about to launch into a full romantic dissection, but changes course. “You can, and you should. Just be open—that’s all.”
“Open for what exactly?”
“Anything.”
“You’re crazy,” I mutter.
“All right, all right. When do I get to see this rugged heartthrob in real life again? I was talking to Taeli and Ansley, and we were thinking of bringing Caleb and Tucker down before Langford and Tuck head to Arizona and Caleb goes to his dad’s in Chicago for the holidays.
I told them about the WaveRunners, and the boys are all in. ”
“How about the first week of December?” I suggest.
“That works for me. I’ll ask them and let you know.”
“Okay.”
We say our goodbyes, and I click off the line.
I check the mirror one last time.
I pulled my hair back into a ponytail to prevent it from becoming wild and tangled on the boat. I chose to wear a thick, warm wool sweater with a cowl-neck, jeans, and ankle boots.
I twirl and decide that warm and comfortable is definitely the best choice. I grab my phone and keys and head out to Aunt Ida’s sundeck to wait for Brew.