Page 16 of Free Wind (Lifeguards of Barking Beach #2)

What was that? He was still allowed to enjoy a moment’s flirt with a gorgeous chick, wasn’t he? It wasn’t cheating. He and Blake had only had one date! And he still liked women. He was allowed to like boys and girls—Blake had said so himself.

Wiping his sunnies on his shirt, Damo cursed himself. He was strung so tightly he was going to snap. He never picked up chicks while on shift, but there was no harm in being friendly. So why did he feel so guilty and weird?

It had been less than twenty-four hours since he’d finally hooked up with a bloke, and he needed to tell someone or he’d explode.

There was already so much he didn’t talk about.

There was no room inside for this too. If only Blake was there to give him another one of those long hugs and whisper in his ear.

“I’ll take care of you.”

Back in the buggy, Liam said, “That surfer gave herself a fright?”

“Yeah, I think she’s done with learning to surf for today.” Damo glanced at Liam’s familiar profile. Liam would understand. He didn’t talk much, but he’d listen. Damo could just…tell him. Open his mouth and say, “I got off with a bloke last night.”

Not that this was a good time for it. Not for bisexual confessions or teasing Liam more about apparently getting engaged to Cody.

Indeed, Liam said, “Croc’s going to be full on any minute.”

It sure was—all the lifeguards in and out of the water bringing back patients who got in over their heads. It was a strange relief since Damo could only think about patients and paddling, all his energy zeroed in on rescues.

It clouded over fully around four and rain started sprinkling. Fortunately, most people packed up, and he breathed easier without thousands in the water to monitor.

In the two-story tower, Damo cleaned up the first aid area by the back ramp that zigzagged up to the second level, forcing himself to stay away from the locker room beyond the kitchenette.

He ate a chicken schnitty from the cafe and watched the gray waves, half listening to a few of the guys on shift and thinking about what he’d make Tabby for dinner.

He’d been paid that week and stocked up on groceries, so at least he knew there was dried pasta and a can of sauce. He’d grabbed a pack of mince at thirty percent off since it was due to expire. He’d text Tabby and tell her to take it out of the freezer.

The thought of texting made him fidget in his office chair, wondering if Blake had been in touch. Rain splattered the large curving windows of the viewing area, and he tapped on the benchtop that ran under the windows.

A few feet away, Bickie toweled off his floppy brown hair—now going gray at the temples—and answered one of the office phones that sat on the bench.

Damo tucked one foot up under him. Then switched it to the other, the chair creaking as he spun in little half circles. If Blake—

Stop thinking about Blake!

“Good work today,” Teddy said as he hopped up the three steps to the main viewing area. Damo jolted guiltily before forcing a smile.

“Thanks, boss,” Bickie said, crunching on one of the biscuits that gave him his nickname. He looked through binos toward the north end, where surfers ignored the drizzle.

Teddy—also known as Cyclone—ran a hand over his buzzed hair. His tanned face was etched with laugh lines, and he was going gray too. “Tomorrow’s going to be chockers. Twenty thousand at least with the heat.”

“Glad I’ll be catching waves,” Damo said. His belly fluttered as he imagined paddling out with Blake. Would it be considered their second date? Was he going to have a boyfriend?

“Same,” Cody said and gave Damo a fist bump. “I’m outta here.” He’d already changed into his street clothes.

“Not before you scrub the toilet and shower,” Teddy called.

By the back tower door behind the small first aid area, Cody groaned. “Come on. You’re not really going to make me, are you?” He looked up the few steps at Teddy with big puppy eyes. “Liam’s already at the cafe. I’m starving.”

“Uh-uh, Chook—you lost that bet fair and square,” Bickie insisted. Bare feet up on the long, curved bench under the windows, he popped one of his trademark biscuits in his mouth, this one a mint choc Tim Tam.

Cody grumbled. “Don’t call me that. I’m Tassie, remember?”

Bickie laughed. “You’re not gonna ditch the original nickname if you whinge about losing bets. Get scrubbin’, mate.”

Cody groaned dramatically, smiling as he disappeared into the locker room. Damo was dying to ask him about getting secretly engaged, but no, he’d promised Liam. And while earlier he’d merely considered telling Liam about Blake, now the need to talk burned.

Damo handed Teddy his binos. “Hardly anything happening. I’ll give him a hand.” He realized Teddy and Bickie were staring in disbelief. “What? I’m a kind and generous pal.”

“More than we knew, apparently,” Bickie said through a mouthful of chocolate crumbs.

Heart thumping, Damo hopped down the steps and hurried along the short passage, the tile cool under his bare feet. He pushed open the door to the small locker room ringed by battered yellow lockers. He could hear running water in the adjoining toilet. What should he say to Cody?

To start, he could tell him about Blake—

With a giddy rush, Damo had to stop and get a grip. Just thinking Blake’s name was enough for a flood of memories—dancing, touching, kissing, sucking, talking, laughing. Standing in the locker room, his fingers twitched to get out his phone. What if Blake hadn’t texted?

“What if the pope grows a set of wings and flies away?” he muttered to himself. “Check the bloody thing, ya pork chop.”

He fumbled with the lock, and it took three tries to get the right combination. His heart was ready to explode by the time he looked at the messages appearing on the screen. There were a couple from Mum and Tabby and—there. There!

Hey. I had an amazing time last night. Looking forward to tomorrow. I hope—

Damo lifted the phone to his face to unlock it. “Come on, come on…” He continued reading the message, holding his breath like he was under crashing swells.

—you are too. If you’re freaking out or anything, you can tell me.

He reread those four words: You can tell me.

Relief washed through him. Blake somehow understood. Now he needed to respond. Shit. Damo typed and retyped before going with a simple white lie:

Not freaking. See u tomorrow :)

He hit send before he could second-guess the smiley face. Then he stared at the text for a good solid minute, praying the reply bubbles would appear.

It was fine. He wasn’t freaking out. He was going to put away his phone and continue definitely, positively, a hundred percent not freaking out. He locked his phone with determination.

Leaning in the doorway to the toilet, he said to Cody, who was bent over the bowl with the seat up, holding a stained scrubber, “I’ll give you a hand.”

“Yeah? Sweet, thanks.” Cody grimaced. “Council needs to pay cleaners for this shit. Literally.” He motioned to the open door next to the toilet, a small white-tiled room that held a single shower stall.

“And if everyone would squeegee the shower after like they’re supposed to, it wouldn’t build up like this. ”

“Mm.”

“The tile cleaner’s there by the bucket.”

“Uh-huh.”

Maybe he should have left off the smiley? He wouldn’t have thought twice with a chick, so maybe he was being sexist or something? Tabby would probably have an opinion—not that he was going to tell her about Blake. Not yet. Not until he knew for sure there was something to tell.

He twisted his hair around his index finger, going to the root then back down to repeat.

“So, by giving me a hand, you mean you’re going to watch me clean?” Cody asked.

“Huh? Yep.”

Cody snorted. “You’re all heart.” The yellow cleaning gloves went almost to his elbows below his faded Billabong T-shirt. He scratched his nose with his upper arm. “Had enough cleaning toilets lately. Did I tell you there was a flood in the new pod we bought for guests?”

“The what?”

“The steel pod we put in the backyard after all the council paperwork. One bedroom and bathroom, but the bloody plumber didn’t hook up the water properly. Good thing no one’d actually used the toilet. Liam flushed it to make sure it was working.”

“Good thing you found out sooner rather than later.”

Cody grimaced. “You’re telling me. One of my sisters is visiting later this year for a month, so we decided to invest in it since Liam’s house isn’t that big.”

“Isn’t it your house now too?”

“I guess so, yeah.” He smiled softly. “Moved in over a year ago, and sometimes, it still feels like a dream. In the best way.”

Heart thumping, Damo looked behind to make sure they were still alone and that the locker room door was shut. He cleared his throat, breathing through the rush of nerves. “Remember that clubbie who helped with those Irish tourists panicking in the Croc?”

“Uh, I think so? The surfer? You know, I thought he looked familiar.” Cody cringed as he got the scrubber up under the rim. “Good thing he was there. That was hectic.”

“Yeah. I saw him last night. At, um, Rodeo, that new club in Freo.”

“Cool. Who’d you go with? I wish Liam would give it a try. It’d be fun to go dancing for a change. Not that Liam would dance in public, but if we went with a group, it could be fun.”

“It is, yeah. Blake and I were dancing. That’s his name—Blake. Blake the bloke.” Damo laughed, his breath high and tight, fingers twitching. “That’s who I went with.”

Cody glanced up from the toilet. “Cool. I didn’t realize you were mates.”

“It was kinda like, you know.” He glanced behind him and lowered his voice. “Like a date.”

Of course, Cody had flushed the toilet at the same moment. “Sorry, what?” He dropped the scrubber back in its holder with a grimace. “You went on a date? Do I know her?”

Damo fidgeted. “Maaate, don’t make me say it again.”

Forehead creased, Cody said, “Sorry, I’m confused.”

“Forget it.” Damo backed up and thumped into the doorframe. “I should get back.”