Chapter 4
Four
Reef
Tidying the slips in this humidity is like moving through chowder. Tasks like coiling ropes usually don't bother me, even in this heat, but it’s especially oppressive today. I go into a meditative headspace and think about nothing. Today, all I can do is think about Quincy.
I’m half-listening to the whine of a boat engine in the distance, wondering what she’s thinking about, when that familiar high-pitched laughter echoes across the water.
I look up, noticing Quincy standing in the covered area of the dock, her hair loose around her shoulders as she chats with a pair of boaters who’ve just pulled in.
A couple of the younger marina workers hover around her, too, leaning on pilings, grinning at her like a couple of fools and nudging each other.
Is that one checking out her ass? Don’t they know she’s a teacher?
It’s wrong of me to assume that, but my throat tightens in consternation anyway. They’re probably just socializing, but in my body, it feels like there’s a crowd of men flirting with her.
The sound of Susan’s sneakers on the planks pulls my attention. I know the sound of everyone’s walk, and their moods to boot. I can already tell Susan has bad news.
Whatever it is can wait. I’m keeping my eye on Quincy around all those friendly boaters.
“So the mayor’s office just called,” Susan says.
“Yeah?”
“Both she and the other judge for the boat race are sick. They both got a raging case of something from the oysters at Magpie last night, and they are on an IV drip right now in the ER.”
“You’re kidding me,” I mutter, my stomach churning at the thought. A good reminder why I don’t eat seafood unless I cook it myself. Then it hits me that I have a big problem. “You can fill in as judge, right? We don’t really need two.”
Susan shakes her head. “You promised I could man the starting line and fire the pistol this year.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Of course I did. “Great. Perfect.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Quincy tossing her head back, laughing loudly. Something hot and irrational flares in my chest.
“I’ll figure something out,” I say. “Thanks, Susan.”
I stride over to the covered area of the dock. The other workers, Devin and Wes, straighten their spines and drop the shit-eating grins when they see me coming.
“What’s the status of the buckets at the fish cleaning station, boys?” I ask.
Devin blinks at me. “I’m not sure.”
Wes nudges him. “He means we’re supposed to stop hanging around and go clean it out right now. Come on.”
Excellent use of context clues. Not all hope is lost with this crew. The workers scatter and the boaters wander off toward the Minnow Bucket.
Quincy blinks up at me. “Everything okay, boss?”
I hate to put a damper on her holiday weekend by asking her to work on the Fourth. I hate anything to take the smile off her face.
“Want to earn some overtime?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says, taking a barely noticeable step toward me.
I catch the whiff of her shampoo and breathe it in.
Every particle of her in the air, I want all of it.
That’s all I can allow myself to take. “What is it? Need me to stay late and practice tying something down?” She brushes a strand of hair from her cheek.
She has no idea what images just popped into my gutter brain.
“Congratulations,” I say gruffly so she can’t see how flustered I am when we’re this close. “You’re the new judge for the boat race tomorrow.”
I’m expecting disappointment at me ruining her holiday weekend. Instead, her smile brightens. “Does this mean I get a megaphone?”
“The megaphone’s mine,” I blurt without thinking.
Quincy blinks at me. “But you said I’m the judge.”
I nod. “You can’t drive the speedboat alone. For safety. I’ll be there with you, since Susan will be at the starting line.”
This is, of course, a lie. Wes or Devin or a handful of other kids who work for me are perfectly capable of driving the boat. But I don’t trust them around her.
As for Quincy, I know she’s a good person. I know she would never entertain the thought of flirting with anyone young enough to be her student. That’s not in her nature.
But if someone has to spend all day in a boat with Quincy for safety reasons, it’s going to be me.
The only liability in that scenario would be my mental and emotional wellbeing, knowing I need to be close to her but not being able to have her.