Chapter Eighteen
Parker
“H er father hates me.”
I went home and managed to get four hours of sleep before Anson woke me up. We had a large charter to take out at nine. I have no one to blame but myself for convincing Audrey to go to breakfast; I just wasn’t ready for the night to end. She had been standoffish all night after my mistake on Sunday, and I knew I could win her forgiveness with a trip to Waffle Castle. She has had a weakness for that place since we were kids.
“Can you blame the man?” Anson asks. “I mean, Seb, what would you do if, on Leia’s sweet sixteenth birthday, you found out some horny asshole—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” Sebastian hisses.
“My point exactly,” Anson says. “The man has a right to want to castrate you.”
“She’s not a little girl anymore,” I remind him.
“She’ll always be his little girl,” Sebby says.
My eyes go to him. He’s quietly been taking in the conversation as he sits in the stern, sorting and inventorying lures.
“And I’ll bet that when he saw her sitting in that booth and you seated across from her, all he saw was a brokenhearted teenager that he couldn’t help.”
“So, not only do I have to convince her I’m a different man, but I also have to convince Rand?”
Sebby nods. “He’ll be tougher than she will be.”
“Fucking great,” I mutter under my breath.
Sebby sets the lure in his hand aside and focuses on me. “Did it ever occur to you to reach out to the man? To afford him the respect of looking him in the eye and apologizing for hurting his daughter?”
“No.”
He shakes his head.
“I wouldn’t know what to say,” I tell him.
“In my experience, it’s always best to start with the truth.”
“He probably wouldn’t listen.”
“He might not forgive you, but you won’t know until you make the effort. You’ve been saying that you’re no longer the boy you once were, so it’s time to prove it because they both deserve that much from you. Even if you don’t succeed in winning either of their forgiveness, it’s important to try.”
I know he is right. I should have marched into Rand’s office the day I returned to Sandcastle Cove, faced him man-to-man, and taken responsibility for my actions because they’d affected more than just Audrey and me.
“I know you are a good man, son. I also understand your father’s abandonment of the family affected you profoundly and made you doubt yourself. However, you’re not your father. You returned to make things right. It won’t be easy; it will be painful and humbling. But in the end, it will be worth it.”
“Damn, Sebby, coming in with the sage old man’s advice,” Anson says.
Sebby cuts his eyes to Anson. “Better than your immature prick advice.”
Anson grabs his chest. “Ouch, Sebby. That hurt. I was trying to tell him the same thing you did. It just sounds wiser coming from an old fart, I guess.”
Sebby grins. “This old fart is the one who pays your salary, so you’d be wise to shut your trap and get back to work.”
“What’ll it be, ladies?” I ask as I place a couple of fresh cocktail napkins in front of them.
Tonight has proven to be even busier than last night. Brew booked a new band from Nashville for a three-day engagement, and they have attracted a crowd from as far as Charleston.
The blonde leans over the bar as far as the wooden barrier will allow and smiles.
“What would you suggest?” she asks as she tucks her elbows in, hoping to bring my attention to where her ample breasts threaten to spill from her tiny tank top.
Keeping my eyes on hers, I glide one of the black menus with Whiskey Joe’s signature cocktail lists printed in gold lettering between them.
“If you’re a fan of sours or fizzes, the ones on the left are great. If you prefer something a bit sweeter, the ones on the right,” I say.
“What if we just want to get drunk and cut loose?” the brunette asks.
I slide my gaze to hers.
She’s more my type—beautiful in a soft, natural way. Her cream-colored sweater fits her perfectly.
“Shots with a beer chaser,” I answer.
She wrinkles her nose in disgust, and I chuckle.
“How about lick, slam, suck?” the blonde shouts, bringing the attention back to herself. “Tequila makes my clothes fall off.”
She gives me a seductive grin.
I feel a warm body press against my back and turn to see Audrey, a bottle of Grey Goose in one hand and a chilled martini glass in the other. And she’s scowling at me.
“Hey, Casanova. We have other customers. Shake a leg,” she bites out.
I glance around the bar, and the crowd is indeed four rows deep, but I linger with the two girls in front of me for a few more beats just to get under the fiery redhead’s skin.
“Lick, slam, suck it is,” I say with a wink before grabbing the Patrón off one of the back shelves.
As I place the shot glasses and lemon down on the napkins, the blonde makes a show of licking her wrist. Her tongue flattens out as it travels slowly toward her palm. Then, she sucks the tip of her thumb before extending her arm to me.
I shake salt onto her moistened skin and turn to her friend, who simply licks the side of her hand.
The two of them lick the salt, sip the tequila, and then take the citrus wedges between their lips, garnering every man’s attention.
Lifting the bottle, I ask, “Another?”
“Yes, please,” the blonde answers before repeating the seductive sequence.
“Parker!”
I look up to see Audrey glaring in my direction. And I can’t help but smile to myself.
“Will you be starting a tab?” I ask, but before the brunette can hand me her credit card, the guy behind speaks up.
“I got them. And I’ll take two Jack and Cokes.”
He hands me his card, and I quickly make his drinks. He takes the glasses and leads the giggly girls to a table where his buddy is seated. The blonde looks back at me with a pout as they go.
“Get your head in the game,” Audrey hisses as she reaches over me to grab the bottle of Patrón.
“I’m just doing what you told me to do, boss,” I say.
“And what is that exactly?” she asks as she makes four margaritas on the rocks without even taking her eyes from me.
Damn, she’s talented.
I step behind her, lean in, and run my nose up her neck as she finishes adding lime wedges to the edges of the glasses. “Flirting fills the tip jar,” I whisper before playfully nipping at her ear.
She sticks me in the ribs with an elbow, and I grunt as she takes the drinks and walks over to Heather, who is waiting at the end of the bar.
The rest of the night flies by in a blur, and by the time we reach last call, the four hours of sleep I got last night are catching up to me.
“You all right?” Audrey asks as she sits on a stool, calculating the night’s tips.
“Just beat. We had an early charter this morning.”
“You should head out. Leonard and I will finish up and leave your tips on Brew’s desk.”
I start to argue, but she shuts me down.
“I don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.”
“You worried about me?”
She gives me a teasing smile. “Of course. Who’d I get to work the weekend if you died?”
I set the towel I’m using aside and untie the apron at my waist before grabbing my belongings.
I round the bar and stop at her. She glances up from the bills she’s sorting.
“Don’t leave without an escort,” I say.
Her eyes move past me to where the band is packing their equipment. The lead singer smiles.
“I’m sure I can find someone.”
Fuck that.
I toss my keys and wallet onto the bar.
She rolls her eyes. “Leonard will walk me to my car.”
I’m unconvinced, so I drop onto the stool beside her. She jerks her head, gesturing over my shoulder. I glance back and see the singer with his arm wrapped around Heather’s waist. He says something to one of the other guys and then leads her toward the door.
As they pass us, Heather waves and turns back to Audrey, saying, “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“You’d better,” Audrey calls after her, then focuses back on me. “Go.”
Leonard appears from the back with freshly hosed trash cans.
“You got her if I leave?”
“Of course,” he says.
Satisfied, I stand and kiss the top of her head, and she flinches.
Dammit.
Whenever I think I’ve made progress, she reminds me that I’m nowhere close.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”