Page 38 of As a Last Resort

AUSTIN

Sam bit her lip when she was thinking about work.

Sam hated cold coffee but it still took her four hours to drink a single cup.

Sam had six freckles on her left cheek that looked like the big dipper upside down.

I was not someone who noticed these kinds of things. But I noticed them with her.

Sam also walked like she was stomping cockroaches when she was pissed off, which is exactly how she came down the dock toward me.

A guy in a white linen button-down rolled up to the elbows and navy-blue chinos was at her heels keeping pace, looking like he had just stepped out of a Tommy Hilfiger billboard ad.

Ah. So this must be Robby.

I hadn’t spoken to her since last night in the parking lot after the game.

I was up and out by dawn putzing around on the boat, trying to clear my head.

Captain Harold texted me to see if I could bait fish for his early morning charter.

He was taking out the little old ladies I met a few weeks ago from New Hampshire on a fishing expedition and his first mate was out sick.

He also told me he had two last-minute tagalongs; your friend Sam plus one.

I immediately gave Patrick the boat to run for the day and offered my help.

She walked down the dock with fire in her eyes. A flashback of her lips on mine crashed into my mind and stole a heartbeat, or two.

“You following me, roomie?” I asked when she was close enough. She stutter-stepped when she set eyes on me.

“Hi.” She stopped and stared. “I jumped on an inshore at the last minute.”

“ We ,” the guy chimed in from behind. “Babe, you’re going to face-plant in those heels.”

Babe?

Sam turned around to face him. “Do not call me babe ever again or I will cut your balls off.”

Robby peeked around her. “She’s a feisty one.” The way he spoke, like he knew her better than I did, made my blood boil.

“You must be Robby.”

“This your rig?” he asked me, looking behind me to the Sea King , Captain Harold’s monster of a fishing boat with at least twenty rigged poles poking out of the top.

“Nope,” I responded. “Just helping out Captain for the day.”

“You are?” Sam asked. I may have made it up, but I swore there was a tiny current of hope in her voice. “I thought you had to run the ferry today?”

“Patrick’s on point today.”

“Yeah, so you’re like, the fish assistant?” Robby puffed out his chest and chewed his gum with his mouth open.

I blinked. Sam rolled her eyes. Was this guy trying to be funny?

“They usually call it first mate.”

He gave a huff and looked around through his mirrored aviators. The small urge to punch him brewed somewhere underneath the surface.

“I get the delightful pleasure of showing Robby around the island today.” Sam clenched her teeth. “We’re starting with the fishing charter around the point of the island. Captain Harold said he could squeeze two more of us on short notice.”

Robby’s gum bubble popped obnoxiously loud. “Sam’s going to show me all the make out spots on the island.”

Yep. That urge was growing stronger pretty quickly.

“You’re not even remotely funny,” she snapped back. “You’re lucky I even acknowledge your existence after the stunt you pulled this morning.”

Stunt this morning?

Starting off the day with this guy would be rough, let alone spending the whole day with him. I didn’t want her anywhere near him.

“Hey, why don’t you come with me first?” I asked her, acting like the idea had just come to me. “I’ve got some water errands to do for Captain and we’ll meet up in a couple hours.”

“We’re heading out on the charter together ,” Robby answered for her. He draped his arm over Sam’s shoulder, which she immediately swept off her.

“We’ll meet up with Harold’s crew for the second half of the trip. I need to run out to catch Captain some live bait first.”

His eyes narrowed in on me and a shit-eating grin crept across his face. “Nah, we’re good, man.” He draped his arm over Sam’s shoulder, which she swept off. Again.

“Splitting up and covering more ground would be beneficial to your project. You probably want to map out the best places for bait fish. Right, Sam?”

“Yes. Yes, it totally would.” She finally saw the out I was giving her. “I’ll go check off the bait… places… with you, and Robby, you can head with Captain Harold and check off the first few fishing spots.”

“Wait, what are you going to do?” he asked as she jumped on my skiff.

“You know, fish assistant stuff.”

“Well, I’m coming with you,” he argued. “Do you even know this guy?”

She looked right at me and answered, “It feels like we just met.”

I swear the boat caught fire underneath my feet. I started up the engine once I remembered how to breathe again. “Boat’s pretty small. And you need to get your sea legs first. That’ll be easier on the bigger boat.”

“I don’t get seasick,” he called out over the motor as we pulled out.

Captain Harold was walking the little old lady trio down the dock toward the Sea King .

“We’ll meet you guys in a couple hours!” I yelled at him.

It was still early enough, so the water was calm and full of potential for the day, just waiting for a boat to come through and stir it to life. I felt the hum of the motor through my feet as we taxied out.

“I have a vanilla latte and a breakfast sandwich from the Mug in the hatch.”

“You do not.” Her eyes went wide and my heart swelled.

“I do.”

“I love you.” My breath stilled at the sound of that phrase.

What the hell, pull it together.

She reached past me to open the hatch and snatched the brown bag out. She stuck her whole head in, taking a huge breath.

“Wait, how did you know I’d be here?” Her head was still in the brown paper bag.

“Harold texted me this morning about the charter saying you’d jumped on last minute. He figured I’d be more willing to help since his first is out with the flu.” We idled past the mangroves where the water started to open up. “Assuming your call this morning was less than ideal?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.” She took a huge bite, and with her mouth full, leaned back onto the cushion. “I love bacon.”

“I know.” I smiled down at my feet so she wouldn’t see me blush.

She was quiet on the way out, sitting up front with a towel wrapped around her.

I assumed she was still running through the call from this morning in her head.

She wore the strain from work across her face but I figured it was more than that.

She hadn’t heard from her mom yet that I knew of.

And being here without her must feel out of sorts.

It couldn’t be easy, just waiting around.

I guess it was better than waiting around for calls at two in the morning.

But the effect of salt and sea air could be revitalizing. The water had a way of opening you up and spilling your guts out to it, whether you felt like it or not. I just needed to give it time. Let her bring it up if she wanted to talk about it.

We idled out past the markers and I sped up. She sat on the bow of the boat as the wind ripped through her hair. She looked back for a split second, the traces of worry and angst gone for a moment.

There was that feeling again where my stomach dropped and my heart tugged a bit. The urge to taste her lips was overwhelming. And distracting. But Lexi’s warnings kept ringing in my ear.

I was starting to pay attention too much.

I knew she’d be perkier after her latte, and if she didn’t have one she’d get a headache soon.

She preferred bacon over any other food in the world.

Except cotton candy. I put an extra slip mat on the boat because I knew she’d be wearing heels, even if they were just heels disguised as wedges , whatever that meant.

I also had a pair of boat shoes, size seven, under the seat for when she tripped one too many times and wanted to take her shoes off.

Sure, I needed to get bait fish for the charter, but my plan was to take her to a small, secluded spot where spotted trout were a dime a dozen.

You could catch something with your bare hands if you stayed in the same spot for more than ten seconds.

Fishing was an adrenaline rush the moment you hooked one, whether you liked to fish or not.

I thought it would be a welcomed distraction for her and I wanted to help give her some relief, even if it was only for an afternoon.

After a ride through the open water, we hit a flat and I threw out my cast net to catch bait. Her eyes burned a hole in the back of my shirt as I worked to pull up the net. I’ve never been so intently focused on the surface of the water before.

“I thought we were fishing?”

“We will, just have to catch the bait first.”

“I never got the whole cannibalism thing with fish before.”

“The cannibalism thing?”

“You know, fish eating other fish to survive. It’s kinda weird, right?”

“I guess I’ve never seriously thought about the survival of the underwater ecosystem before. Survival of the fittest?” I offered up.

She laughed and I stuck the sound in my back pocket for later.

“You know, I went out with your dad and Lexi a few times when we were little. Although I don’t exactly remember fishing. I think it was more tubing and escaping from imaginary sharks.”

I pulled up the cast net and sent the slivers of silver fish flopping along the deck.

“Catch ’em!” I yelled.

She turned to me, a mix of confusion and utter horror. “What? I’m not touching them!”

“We need to throw them in the live well before they die. Hurry!” I dropped to my knees, scooping up a small fish in my hands and throwing it into the live well.

She followed suit and trapped a fish with both hands, then immediately screamed and pulled her arms back. “It’s wiggling!” Her laughter cut the air like rays of sunshine.

“They’re supposed to wiggle, they’re alive.” I watched her diving and hopping around the deck, catching the pinfish and throwing them into the well.