Page 9 of A Shore Fling

NINA

O pening the Jeep’s door, I slip into the passenger side and smile at Willow. “Hi.”

“Damn, girl, look at you. Every man in the bar is going to swallow their tongue when they set eyes on you.”

I snort, pulling the door shut. “Somehow I doubt that.”

She laughs. “You’ll see.”

I take in her sleeveless flannel shirt and cutoff jean shorts, and my stomach sinks. I’m overdressed and sure to stick out like a rogue onion ring in a container of Burger King fries.

“How was your day?” I ask as she backs out of the driveway.

“It was long, hence the desperate need for some levity tonight.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a mechanic.”

My head snaps in her direction. “Automobiles?” She nods, her attention remaining on the road in front of us. “Has that always been an interest of yours?”

“Kind of. My dad always made me help when he worked on my mom’s and his vehicles, and I always found the process interesting. I didn’t want to go to college, so I settled on trade school.” She shrugs. “The rest is history.”

“That’s badass.”

She lets out a quick laugh. “I don’t know about that, but it pays the bills.” Her fingers flex on the wheel, drawing my attention to the colorful tattoos that cover the skin between her right shoulder and elbow. I can’t make out what each one is independently, but I notice a large lotus flower.

“Is it difficult working in a male-dominant field?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“At first it was a little rough, until they realized I know my shit, but now I’m just one of the guys.”

She gets treated like one of the guys? What a stark contrast our work environments are.

Jonathon acts as though Moreau would’ve failed by now if not for the fact that the Moreau men have always been in charge.

And my dad wants to use the fact that I was born with a vagina as some bargaining chip for the betterment of our lifestyle brand.

If I had a penis, he wouldn’t be negotiating deals over it.

I flick an imaginary speck from my white linen pants. “You know, I’ve never been a ‘get my hands dirty’ kind of girl, and anything mechanical intimidates me. You are a badass.”

She waves her hand dismissively. “Thank you, but it’s no big deal. What do you do for work?”

“My family has a business, and I’m the CFO.”

Willow’s impressed gaze briefly lands on me. “Who’s the badass now?”

“It’s not as impressive or as rewarding as you might think.” Regardless of my familial gripes, I know I’m fortunate to come from a wealthy family. I’ve never had to worry about paying my bills or keeping a roof over my head. The everyday concerns many people have, I’ve never experienced.

“I think you’re being modest,” she says, her lips curving. Before I can reply, we pull into a parking lot.

“Why is this building up in the air?” I ask.

She laughs, slapping the steering wheel. “Fifteen years ago, there used to be a little market in this location.”

“What happened to it?”

“It floated away during a nor’easter.”

“What?”

“Yeah. It was crazy. One second it was there, and the next, it was in the middle of the road.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“Not live. But I saw it in the middle of the road. So, when they bought the land and built this place, they made sure it was on pilings to prevent future flood damage.”

“Smart thinking.”

“It’s part of the building code now,” she informs me, pulling into a space near the front of the restaurant. “Just so you know, finding parking is my super power.”

“How does that work?”

She turns off the Jeep. “I just know I’m going to find a spot no matter how busy it is.”

“Do you mean when you come here or in general?”

“It happens everywhere I go.”

“I’m glad I got to witness this strange phenomenon firsthand and on my second day in town, too.”

Her lips twitch. “Consider yourself lucky.”

We climb from the Jeep and head to the main entrance. “Is this place always this busy?”

“Once late afternoon hits, it is. The food is some of the best in town, and the restaurant is family-friendly with fair prices.”

“Last night I had them deliver my dinner. It was delicious.”

“See? It’s a great place.”

As soon as we step inside, the temperature drop is noticeable. I fight the urge to shiver, already regretting the brown halter top I chose to wear.

Willow gestures to our right. “The bar is this way.”

I follow her through a doorway that leads us into a large room.

The sounds of music and laughter surround us, instantly drawing me in.

I want to be a part of the fun. I’m used to attending formal functions that are light on levity and heavy on duty.

But here, no one’s expecting anything from me, and it’s freeing.

Even though I’m in a room full of strangers, aside from Willow, I somehow feel lighter.

The rectangular bar sits centered in the middle, with patrons seated on barstools on all four sides, except for a three-foot space on one side for the staff to pass through.

There are also bar top tables and stools spread around the perimeter of the room, with groups of people clustered around them.

Almost everyone is wearing some form of jeans, whether they be full-length or cut off.

I’m overdressed. I guess Willow had the right idea because there’s a whole lot of plaid flannel shirts.

While I’ve never owned one, I’ve always associated them with the cooler weather.

But with the air conditioning pebbling my arms and other parts of my body, I see the necessity.

“There are my friends.” Willow grabs my arm, leading me around the bar.

Friends? I didn’t realize we’d be meeting others. I was looking forward to getting to know Willow better. I squelch my disappointment and school my features in a pleasant countenance like my mother taught me.

“Will!” male voices simultaneously shout as we approach.

“Hey, guys. This is Nina. She’s visiting for the summer.”

“Hi, Nina!” They shout in unison again.

Is this some Maine thing or a coincidence?

I can’t hold back my smile. “Hi, everyone.” I can’t help but notice what a good-looking bunch they are. Maybe Maine has more to offer than I initially thought.

“That’s Reed, Drew, and Jordan.” Willow points at each of them as she says their names.

“Which one is Travis’ brother?” I ask.

“All of them.”

My eyebrows climb, lips parting. I mouth, “ Wow . ”

She laughs. “I know, right? It’s quite an impressive gene pool.”

I fan my face. “I’ll say.”

Ginger suddenly appears with a glass of wine in her hand. “Hey, ladies.”

I feel a quick jolt of surprise at seeing her before I’m grinning. “Hi, Ginger.”

She catches my eye and raises her brows. “You again?” She tries to remain serious, but a giggle pops free.

Laughing, I step forward and we share a quick hug. It’s strange how happy I am to see her, considering we only met this morning.

Willow’s gaze pings from Ginger to me. “You two already met?”

I nod. “I went for a walk this morning and stopped at Laugh A Latte to grab breakfast.” I glance at Ginger. “By the way, the blueberry muffin was chef’s kiss.”

Ginger preens at my compliment. “Thank you. It’s the locally grown blueberries that make them taste so good.”

“Really?” Willow quirks an eyebrow in challenge. “Then why are all your muffins just as delicious?”

Ginger shrugs. “I use my grandmother’s recipes.”

Willow rolls her eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Ginger, take some credit. You’re the one who makes everything.”

Ginger’s cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink as she nods. “I’ll try.”

Willow turns to me, her lips curving with amusement. “As you can see, someone can’t take a compliment.”

I catch Ginger’s eye. “Well, I plan to be a frequent patron of your place.” I pause, placing my hand on my chest. “And I’ve been told I have impeccable taste.”

“And no common sense,” a deep voice I’m becoming all too familiar with calls out behind me.

My eyes briefly close before I school my features and turn around. “Harbormaster Travis. What a… nice surprise.”

He crosses his arms, his flannel sleeves conforming to his muscular biceps. “Wish I could say the same.”

“What the fuck, Travis?” Willow asks, scowling.

I hold up a hand. “It’s okay. I’m familiar with the harbormaster’s grumpy disposition.”

His brothers guffaw, and one of them calls out, “She’s got your number, bro.”

Travis sends a cool look their way before his dark gaze returns to me. “Have you all met Nina, the disaster?”

“That’s a disaster I can get on board with,” one of his brothers replies. God bless that man.

I gasp, clutching imaginary pearls. “Are you implying I’m some kind of natural disaster?”

Travis doesn’t crack a smile. “You did run a perfect boat onto a sandbar. At low tide.”

I lift my chin. “It was mostly high tide when I started.”

Travis blinks like he’s debating whether he heard me correctly or if his brain’s rejecting reality. “What’s next?”

I blink back. “Next?”

He crosses his arms tighter. “Are you going to try kayaking down Main Street during a rainstorm? Maybe organize a clambake on someone’s front lawn?”

“I would never—” I pause. “Okay, the clambake thing sounds kind of awesome.”

Willow coughs to cover her laugh.

He gestures at me. “You laugh now, but this walking disaster is going to single-handedly drive up the town’s liability insurance.”

“That’s Miss Walking Disaster to you,” I correct, tapping a manicured finger to his very serious, very muscular chest.

He glances down at my finger, then back at me. “You drove a boat when you had no business doing so.”

“David gave me a tutorial first. You know, your employee .” I tap his chest once more before removing my hand.

His eye twitches. “You sank in the gravel. Perkins Marine said you’re probably looking at replacing the motor.”

Oops.

“And yet, I emerged stronger,” I say, tossing my hair over my shoulder, pretending I’m not affected by my costly error. “I’m like a phoenix.”

“Yeah, a phoenix who can’t drive a boat,” he drolls.

I sigh quietly. If I wanted this much judgment, I’d call my mother.

Willow moves closer, hooking her arm through mine. “I hate to interrupt, but we need some drinks.” She spins me away from Travis and walks me over to the bar with Ginger following us.

“I could kiss you for getting me out of that situation.”

“What the hell was that all about?” Willow asks.

“Who knows? He’s hated me from the moment we met. Granted, it wasn’t under the best circumstances. I did drive a boat onto a sandbar, but in my defense, how was I supposed to know it was there?”

Ginger snickers. “Sounds like something I’d do, which is why you’ll never catch me driving a boat.”

“Yeah, it’s not something I feel the need to repeat,” I say with an embarrassed laugh.

Willow pats my arm reassuringly. “He doesn’t hate you, Nina.”

“Pretty sure he does.”

She shakes her head, her lips curving knowingly. “He likes you. He’s like the annoying boy in grade school who’s mean to the girl he’s crushing on.”

“That’s quite a stretch,” I say.

“No, it’s not. I’ve known Travis most of my life, and he’s not good at expressing his feelings. Never has been, but it’s worse since his divorce.”

“How’d he get someone to marry him?” I mutter. Must be all that charm.

“They were high school sweethearts,” Ginger informs me.

Willow wildly waves her hand, as if that information isn’t essential. “Let’s discuss the sexual tension between you and Travis.”

A choking sound squeezes from my lungs. “Now that’s a ludicrous statement if I ever heard one.”

Ginger vehemently shakes her head. “No, it’s not. I also picked up on that vibe.”

“Sparks were flying between you two. I thought about taking cover so I wouldn’t get singed, but I didn’t want to miss out on a single word,” Willow adds.

“Oh, come on, you two. Is this some prank you pull on the out-of-towners?”

Willow looks deeply into my eyes, as if to prove her sincerity. “No. I’m being one hundred percent serious.”

Peering over my shoulder, I glance at Travis and find his attention on me.

An unwanted flutter stirs in my stomach.

I turn my head forward once more, fighting the urge to take another look.

But it’s not like I need to. From the dark shadow that hides his chiseled jawline and frames his masculine lips to his deep-set brown eyes, every inch of his scowling, handsome face is already burned into my memory.