Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Actually, it’s usually been women.”
“Yeah?” His breath wafts across my throat.
I nod. “Just how it’s been. Now help me lock up.”
Micah is pensive as he does so, as if mulling over my confession. It’s not like men haven’t been attractive to me. It’s only that women feel different enough, which has suited me fine. I don’t have to admit that the men were not him because he already knows it. The words don’t need to be spoken between us.
I don’t ask about his sex life because I’m not sure how much I want to know. I think of him being seduced by casting directors and kissing other actors on auditions. Maybe hooking up after a shift at the restaurant. No doubt we’ve both gotten our physical needs met, but it’s still too painful to admit openly.
12
MICAH
I walk along the Sleepy Slip docks over in Sunrise Bay, which is only a couple of miles from Aqua Vista. The salty sea air feels thick in my lungs, and as I inhale it, peace washes over me. It’s been so long since I’ve felt even remotely okay about returning here after everything went to shit, but I figure enough time has gone by that I won’t be recognized by any traditional fishers.
God, I haven’t held a fishing pole in forever, I think as I pass the Hook, Line, and Sinker supply shack and nod to the older man staring at me from the dusty window. Christ, Cap is still around? He’s run the place for the better part of forty years. He’d once been the captain of a naval rig and had more stories than anyone I’d ever known. He’d keep you at the counter for longer than you needed to be, and sometimes, it made me squirm, knowing my grandad was waiting so we could set sail.
“Micah Malone, that you?”
I stiffen briefly before turning to see him standing at the door. Silver hair, deep lines around his mouth and eyes, and gray-blue eyes that likely still see everything going on around him. “Sure is, Cap.”
“Didn’t think I’d see your face ’round these parts again.”
“Me neither,” I mutter, suddenly regretting my decision.
“Regardless…” He eyes me warily. “That was a long time ago.”
“Unfortunately, people around here have extensive recall.”
“Eh, plenty of new fishers. Even more women running these boats.”
I almost roll my eyes. It’s as if he’s shocked that females would even enjoy fishing, let alone make money at it. “That’s a good thing. We’d probably all be better off if women ran the world.”
“Now, I wouldn’t go that far.” He wrinkles his nose. “My daughter and grandchild said they can help run the shack, but I don’t think this is a place for a girl.”
Of course, he wouldn’t. I remember him snickering along with some burly fishermen talking about their wives. Even my grandpa would partake, though his heart didn’t seem in it. Mrs. McCoy told me once that he changed after losing my grandma. That was long before I was born.
Before I can open my mouth to stick up for them, he says, “That’s only because they think I’m getting up in age, work too much, and my health is suffering.”
“Sounds like they’re only worried about you.”
“I suppose. But just like I told them, I’m perfectly fine. I like my work. Besides, where would the fishers be without me being here bright and early?”
It’s true that his readily available supplies make it very convenient.
“Speaking of health and old age, I was just thinking about your grandfather. I hear he passed.”
My stomach constricts. Hearing it said aloud is still a shock. “He did.”
“I also hear he left you his boat.”
“I honestly wasn’t sure if he’d kept it after he retired.”
“Sure did.” He motions with this thumb over his shoulder toward the storage warehouses. “In lucky number seven.”
I bark out a humorless laugh. “Does it still float?” It seemed on its last leg when I was in high school. But the fishing industry is no joke. These boats get battered during storms and high tides. I’m surprised it held on as long as it did.
“Probably has better bones than some of these newer models.”
“Damn straight. I’ll go check it out.”
He eyes me. “How long you in town?”
I shove my hands in my front pockets, suddenly feeling guilty about leaving town again. “Only long enough to sell his house.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Hollywood calling you back?”
I look away and mutter, “Something like that.”
He chuckles. “I always told your grandpa you had a fisherman’s knack with movie-star looks.”
“That only gets you so far,” I reply. “The looks, I mean. Not the fishing, obviously. Haven’t been in a long time.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Yeah, well, I sort of ruined all that.”
“Not to give you a pass, but you were only a kid. A troubled kid.”
“Still deserved everything I got.”
We exchange a glance. No need to spell it out. He knows my grandfather forbade me from the dock and his boat after I ruined the fishing competition for him. Had it not been for me, he would’ve won a ton of cash. I’m just glad they decided not to press charges. Staying away was punishment enough, given how much I loved being out there. He even sold my favorite rod and grounded me for who knows how long. The memory is fuzzy now. What’s not fuzzy is the disappointment in his expression that day.