Page 2

CHAPTER ONE

Eight months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days without sex…

Cash

Bang-bang! The flimsy bathroom door shook in its frame, jolting me out of a steamy fantasy with a handsome stranger. He was tall, dark, brood—eh, who was I kidding? He was Declan.

Only this Declan didn’t shut down the second my lips touched his. He pulled me closer. He whispered in my ear?—

“Stop jerking off in there already and come out!”

Katelyn’s screech snapped me back to reality. I poked my head out of the shower curtain to shout at the door. “Oy! Since when do you talk like that?”

“Since I’m about to pee my pants! Hurry up!”

There was a clatter of aluminum beer cans hitting the floor, then a snort and a grumble from Dad. He was passed out on the couch, and I’d like him to stay that way. At least until Kat and I were out of the house.

“Okay,” I called quickly. “Give me a minute.”

I glanced down at my flagging cock. “Sorry, buddy, no happy time for you today. Not even with my hand.”

You could get laid anytime you want…

The thought crept across my mind, tempting. I was a grown-ass man. A single, unattached man. There was nothing to stop me from hooking up with anyone who was interested.

I twisted the knob to cold, dousing that thought in its tracks as I rinsed quickly, shivers overtaking the burn of arousal. Yes, I could find a hookup—but I already knew I wouldn’t. I’d made a promise to myself. Not to be celibate or anything wild like that, but simply to have sex with someone only when I really wanted it. Only when I felt a spark and a connection.

The only trouble was…once I started paying attention? Well, I only sparked with one man. Too bad he didn’t spark back.

I turned off the shower and did a quick rubdown with a towel before knotting it around my waist. Katelyn charged past when I opened the door, nearly knocking me off my feet.

“Get out,” she ordered.

I cast a glance in the mirror. “I need to shave. Just?—”

She threw a roll of toilet paper at my head, and I laughed. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” I scooped up the toilet paper. “I’ll just take this with me since you obviously don’t need it…”

“Cash!” she called desperately.

With a grin, I tossed it back to her before stepping out and closing the door. I headed for my bedroom at the other end of the hallway, passing by the kitchen. Mom was carrying a trash bag that clinked enough I could tell it was full of Dad’s empties.

She looked up from the pile of mail she was sorting into bills and junk she was adding to the trash bag. “Cash, honey, can you take this out? I’ve got to go.”

She crossed to the hall and thrust the trash bag at me. I grabbed for it with my right hand while holding up my slipping towel with the other. “Now? I’m kinda?—”

“Yes, please!” She strode for the front door without looking back. “Love you!”

The door closed behind her.

“Naked,” I muttered. “I’m kinda naked. But sure, taking out the trash.”

I considered leaving it in the hallway, but something was dripping from the bottom. Best to just give Miss Mable a thrill. She was always peeking through her window or peeping over the fence, hoping for a bit of juicy gossip. With my family? She got more than enough. Sadly, it was usually the same old story over and over.

That poor Mr. Hicks, she’d say. He just hasn’t been the same since that work injury to his back. He drinks too much to drown the pain, poor dear. And the yelling and the fighting? It’s downright shameful. Poor Mrs. Hicks works nonstop and the good-for-nothing son, well, he still mooches off them. I just feel bad for the girl, little Kat. She’s a good girl.

I opened the back door and went down the steps to put the trash into the bin. I nearly lost my towel when I lifted the lid.

“Oh my! Cash Hicks, what are you?—”

I shot our neighbor a big grin. After all, most of what she said about us was true. Except for the bit about me mooching off my parents. I’d have left years ago if Kat didn’t need me. I also paid some of the bills since Mom struggled to do it on her own with her housekeeping jobs—even taking overtime as often as she could.

“Morning, Mabel! Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

“Well, I…” Her gaze raked over me, she clutched at her non-existent pearls, and to my great delight, her cheeks pinked. “Why yes, dear, a very lovely day.”

“Are you all right, Mabel?”

She fanned her face. “Wh-what? Oh. Oh! Yes, just fine. Yes, indeed. You know, my granddaughter, Sadie, is visiting this summer and?—”

“Sorry, Mabel, I’ve got to get ready for work.”

I hightailed it back inside, a chuckle working its way up my throat. It was one thing to tease our nosy neighbor, but another to encourage a setup with her granddaughter. Still, maybe Mabel’s impressions of me weren’t so bad if she wanted to foist Sadie on me. That was progress, right?

Katelyn was in the hall when I came in. “What are you doing? We need to go!”

“The women in my life are far too bossy.”

“We’re just bossy enough,” Kat threw over her shoulder with a smirk.

She took after me just a little too much.

I retreated to my bedroom to dress in my Swallow’s Nest Resort uniform of khaki pants and a forest green button-up shirt. It was short-sleeved, but it would still suck during the hottest part of the day.

Thankfully, I’d spend most of my time in an air-conditioned hotel lobby. I’d had worse jobs. Far worse.

I popped into the bathroom to clean up my face. I didn’t have time for a full shave, but I tamed my scruff to more of a designer stubble and used some hair wax to make my hair strands look artfully wavy instead of a bedhead mess. I wanted to look like I’d rolled out of a bed in a movie—not in real life.

“I’m heading to the marina!” Kat called through the door. “I don’t want the Millers to leave without me.”

“And let their poor Benny suffer all day without his love muffin?”

“Ugh, I hate you,” she called without heat.

A few minutes later, the front door closed. I followed not long after, gaze sweeping over the sacked-out form of a man who had once been my father. It had been a long time since he’d been anything but a mess.

He lay on the sofa in a stained undershirt, a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos still resting on his chest. Drool trickled from one corner of his mouth.

The coffee table had been cleared and wiped down, but by tonight, Dad would have worked his way through a twelve-pack of that shitty Pabst again. I swear half Mom’s paychecks went to enabling his addiction, but she never wanted to hear it when I talked to her about cutting him off.

“He’s living with pain,” she’d say. “We don’t know what it’s like. Just try to cut him a break.”

But I’d been cutting him breaks for nine years. For a long time, I’d hoped things would change. That Dad would recover and come out of his funk. But at some point between years five and nine, I realized that I’d lost my dad the day of the boating accident that broke his back.

That man was gone, and he wasn’t ever coming back.

I quietly closed the door behind me and cut across the street, between two houses, and through the park. As always, my gaze was drawn toward the Treehouse B&B and its lush gardens. Sometimes, I spotted Declan out digging in the soil or pruning roses. There was no sign of him this morning.

I didn’t have a car, to save on expenses. Swallow Cove was small enough that I could walk most places without too much effort. Sometimes I went by my friend Sawyer’s place to catch a lift to the resort with him. But today, I was meeting Poppy for coffee at Just The Sip, so I turned the other direction.

When I arrived, Danny was serving a young couple. The guy was blushing and stammering while his girlfriend laughed at him.

Danny’s T-shirt read “Just The Sip” with a winky-faced emoji over the i. There was an image of a frothy drink with a lot of cream at the top and a puddle of coffee at the bottom. Beneath that, it said “Unless you want to swallow more!”

I snorted as Danny finished torment—er flirting —with the poor guy and I stepped up to the counter. “Nice shirt.”

Danny grinned and tugged the hem forward so he could gaze down at his handiwork. “Isn’t it great? I just got them made.”

“It’s very you, but does this mean I won’t get to walk in here to see a new gay pun on your T-shirt every other day?”

“Oh, heck no. I must express myself as the amazingly gorgeous—and available— gay man I am. I mean, just imagine if my Prince Cumming walked in and he didn’t know I was a desperate bottom just aching to sheath his sword.”

I groaned. “Man, that was bad, even for you.”

He laughed, eyes sparkling. “Can’t fault a guy for trying.”

I folded my arms on the high counter between us and made eye contact. I let my lips slowly tilt up in a smile that had never failed to make someone look twice. “Maybe you don’t need to try so hard.”

“Is that right?” Danny bit his lower lip as he looked me over. “Lord knows you don’t need to try at all.”

I grinned. “You’re almost as tempting as your coffee.”

“Just almost?”

“Sadly, I don’t see a Mocha me Moan, Danny on the menu.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “That could be arranged.”

Poppy walked up just then. “Good gravy, are you two going to flirt all day or are we going to actually get some coffee before you have to go to work?”

“Says the woman who’s late.”

“Well, I came over on time , but there was no sign of you, so I popped back over to the store to do a little more work. When I came back—five minutes ago, by the way—you were just too busy gazing into Danny’s pretty green eyes to look my way.”

Poppy ran a pottery shop, Little Clay Pot, next door with her dad.

I shot her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, we were just…”

“I know what you were doing,” she said with a laugh. “You’re both huge flirts and when you meet, there’s some sort of gravitational force that makes you try to outdo each other.”

I shrugged. She wasn’t wrong. It was fun to flirt, and it was especially fun to flirt with Danny because he wouldn’t take it as an invitation.

“Well, since Danny isn’t on the menu yet, what can I get you two?” he asked, all business now.

“Hmm. I’ll take the DP Cream,” I said with relish.

It stood for double-praline cream, but Danny’s names were always way more fun.

“Yummy. Hot or cold?” he asked.

“Ordinarily, I’d say hot, but uh…”

“Yeah, you need to cool off,” Poppy said dryly. “And I’ll take the flat white.”

Danny often teased his customers into saying the full names—the Flat-On-My-Back White, in this case—but Poppy always got a pass.

“Can you whip up drinks for Brooks, Sky, and Grandma Kitty, too?” I checked the time on my phone. “If I’m gonna waltz in late, I need a peace offering.”

“Sure thing.”

Danny made our first two drinks, and Poppy and I took a seat while he made the rest.

I took a long draw from my straw, sighing as the sugary bliss washed over me. “This is almost as good as sex.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Poppy said.

She was ace and aromantic, and from what she’d told us, had no desire for a romantic or sexual partner.

“Don’t you ever…” I stopped, chewing my lip, unsure if I should ask.

“What?”

I lowered my voice. “Tell me if this is too personal, but do you ever have physical cravings at all?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want physical intimacy with another person, but yeah, I still…”

She trailed off, but I got the picture.

“It’s different for everyone on the spectrum, I suppose,” she mused. “There’s not any one way to be ace.”

“Right.” I cleared my throat. “I just wondered, because being horny all the time is fucking hard.”

She busted out laughing. “I don’t think it’s the same, Cash. You’re allosexual. You get it on all the time.” She paused. “Or you used to, anyway. Is that what this is about?”

“It’s not about anything.”

“I mean, I’ve noticed that it’s been a while.”

“Shh. You’ll ruin everyone’s certainty that I’m a shameless man whore.”

“I would have thought you’d want them to notice.”

“If they haven’t noticed yet, they never will. It’s been eight months. Not that I’m counting.”

She smiled sympathetically. “You are, apparently. But why—” She stopped. “This is about Declan, isn’t it?”

“No.”

That was only a partial lie. It was about Declan, but only because I was hung up on wanting him. Not because I expected anything to happen. That was obvious when he shut down the kiss at the B&B.

Mostly, it was about me. About deciding I was using sex to hide from my problems. That I was as reliant on it as my dad was on alcohol. And I’d be damned if I ever followed in his footsteps.

But going cold turkey wasn’t easy. I’d fallen off the wagon once or twice, when I’d gotten a little too desperate for human contact. I missed sex, but mostly I missed being close to another person, sharing their warmth, their breath.

Feeling connected—even if only for a few minutes.

I didn’t understand how Poppy didn’t want or need that. But in a way, I envied her. She wasn’t driven by hormones or loneliness. She found her contentment, her happiness within herself.

“Drinks are up!” Danny called.

I collected them at the counter, leaning in to smack a kiss to Danny’s cheek.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Anytime, handsome.”

By the time I arrived at the resort, I was ten minutes late. I’d caught a ride with Fisher’s dad—who was heading over to the fishing hole to join the Weekend Hookers now that he trusted my friend to run the store on his own—or I’d have been even later.

I hustled into the lobby, ignoring Brooks’s scowl and shoving a cup into his hand. “All-Americano Alpha,” I said. “You’re welcome.”

He looked down in surprise. “Oh. We have complimentary coffee.”

“But it’s not Danny’s coffee.”

He lifted the cup and took a sip and sighed. “You’re not wrong.”

I swept toward Skylar as he emerged from his office. “Sky, have I told you that you’re the bestest, most gorgeous, sexiest boss ever?”

He chuckled, shooting a puzzled glance past me to Brooks. “Not lately, no…”

I held out a coffee cup. “Well, you are, and I’d totally be the cream in your coffee anytime you want.”

“Cash,” Brooks growled behind me, sounding exasperated.

I turned, blinking wide, innocent eyes. “Don’t worry. You’re invited too.”

He grimaced. “Please don’t put that picture in my head.”

I laughed. “Too late. It’s there, isn’t it? In all its X-rated glory.”

Skylar took a long drink of his Caramel Cockiato and smiled. “It’s almost worth it for this coffee.”

I opened my mouth, but Brooks beat me to the punch. “Don’t encourage him.”

I hefted the last coffee cup. “Is that how you want to treat the guy who got Grandma Kitty’s favorite drink?”

Brooks visibly softened. “You didn’t have to do that, man. Thanks.”

“It was no problem,” I said honestly.

I might not make enough money to help support my family and pay for my own place, but I could manage a few extra coffees now and then.

“Did I hear coffee?” Kitty’s voice rang out across the lobby.

“You sure did,” I called with a grin.

Grandma Kitty tried to hurry her step, and I met her halfway across the lobby so she wouldn’t end up falling and breaking another hip. She’d recovered after her last fall, but it had taken a long, hard road that included a stay in an assisted-living facility.

She’d finally retired her cane and walked on her own, though she still had a hitch in her giddyup.

I extended the coffee. “One Spit-Roasted Blond for my favorite grandma.”

“Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest thing?”

She grabbed my shoulder and tugged, and I obliged by bending down so she could kiss my cheek.

“You keep this one around,” she ordered Sky. “He’s a good boy.”

I smiled as I retreated to my spot behind the front desk, ready to take reservations, address guests’ concerns, and greet new check-ins.

Grandma Kitty was probably the only person in my life who could call me a good boy , but I basked in her praise.

It wasn’t like I was getting much of it at home—or in my nonexistent love life. A guy had to take what he could get.