by Jodi Redford
Bailey glanced at her watch and twitched her nose. “I have to get back to work in forty minutes, but I promise this weekend I’m all yours. That’s if you can spare an hour or two in between writing all those hot love scenes.”
“Please.” Kayla blew out a weary breath. “At the rate I’m going, it’ll be a miracle if my characters get to first base.”
“Ouch. That slow a go, huh?”
“You have no idea.” She slumped into the seat across from Bailey’s. “I’ve never been this uninspired before. It’s starting to scare the crap out of me, Bail. What if I don’t have it in me to write anymore?”
“Don’t let fear mess with your head.” Bailey’s expression turned shrewd. “And don’t let your mom either. Or Jeremy the jackass.”
“I’m trying not to.” And failing miserably. Tonight she’d crack the whip on her muse and bust through this damn block. She couldn’t afford to miss her deadline for turning in the book proposal to her editor.
The waitress appeared and took their orders. Kayla and Bailey both settled on the fried clam and shrimp basket. While the pretty blonde server filled their glasses from the water pitcher, she continuously darted sidelong glances at Bailey. After the third instance, Bailey speared the girl with a pointed look. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”
The server blushed. “Sorry. I was just wondering if Ty happened to mention whether or not he was planning to stop by for our Beach Blast on Saturday.”
“Nope. My brother usually doesn’t keep me posted on his social activities.”
“Gotcha. Thanks.” The waitress pinned on a tepid smile before scurrying off.
Bailey winced. “Did I sound bitchy?”
“Maybe about this much.” Kayla pinched her thumb and index finger a few inches apart.
“I don’t mean to, but Lordy, I’m beyond sick and tired of these girls asking about Ty. And I swear they keep getting younger and younger. That chick couldn’t be much older than seventeen. Freakin’ jailbait.”
Kayla rolled her lips to keep from chuckling at Bailey’s grumpiness. “Uh, hate to break it to you, but your brother is a walking magnet for female appreciation.” Not that I’d know anything about that sad affliction where Ty is concerned. “Not much he or you can do about it.”
“Trust me, he hasn’t gone out of his way to deflect their attention, either. Hence the reason I’m always getting cornered by these bimbos.” Bailey grimaced again. “Man, my inner bitch is getting a workout today. Let’s talk about something else. Did you get settled in okay at my parents’ place?”
“Yes, but I still feel weird about Ty and Gibb getting relegated to the pool house. Not exactly fair to either of them.”
Bailey blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Kayla took in her best friend’s bemused expression and smothered a groan. “I thought you knew they were staying there.”
“They’re staying there? Why?”
She apprised Bailey on the roof disaster at Master Charters and the living arrangement they’d compromised on until the repairs were finished. She deliberately left out the eye-popping shower scene she’d been treated to courtesy of Ty and the equally brain-frying kiss she’d shared with Gibb.
Bailey freed her straw from its paper wrapper and plopped it into her glass, clinking the ice cubes together with a lazy swirl. “Shit, I’m sorry. And here you were hoping for some peace and quiet for your vacation.”
“It’s fine. They’re not bothering me. Other than Ty popping in this morning, I’ve barely seen them.” Not entirely true. She’d glimpsed more of Ty than she would have dreamed possible. But that was something Bailey was definitely better off not knowing.
Bailey adopted a suspicious squint. “Ty popped in on you?”
“Yeah, for coffee. Bail, it’s no biggie. They’re not bugging me.” What was it with everyone being worried about that? She’d managed to write while surrounded by worse distractions before. Although, Ty and Gibb were certainly the most gorgeous ones she’d had to deal with.
Bailey reached for Kayla’s hand and clasped it tightly. “I want you to listen to me, and listen good. Do not, under any circumstances, let my brother sweet-talk you out of your panties.”
Kayla choked on a cough, and Bailey quickly thumped her on the back. Once Kayla was reasonably assured her tongue could function properly, she gaped at her friend. “Next time give me some damn warning, would ya?”
“I am giving you a warning. Ty is a man ho.”
“I was referring to your outrageous claim. And that’s a really mean thing to say about your brother.”
“Kay, I love Ty. You know that. But I’m neither obtuse nor blind to how he is. I don’t want you to get hurt. Especially after all the crap you’ve been through the past six months.”
Any plan of remaining angry at Bailey instantly evaporated. “I appreciate your concern for me, and love you for it. Really, I do. But I’m a big girl and have no intention of getting myself hurt again.”
“I didn’t mean to make it sound like you can’t take care of yourself. And I’m sorry for coming across like such a buttinsky. I wouldn’t be…except Ty—”
“Bail.” Kayla raised an eyebrow, earning a heavy sigh from her best friend.
“Okay, I’m shutting my mouth.”
Their food arrived, giving Bailey an excellent reason to keep her word on that promise. At least until dessert arrived. Forking up a bite of key lime pie, she speared Kayla with a fierce look. “You would tell me if Ty tries anything funny on you, right?”
Kayla plastered on a reassuring smile. And lied through her teeth. “Absolutely.”
Chapter Five
Ty sent a nod to Bud Lipton, a grizzled skipper who was a daily fixture at the marina. “Make sure and leave the keys for The Easy Hooker in my drop box before you leave tonight.”
Bud responded with his middle finger and continued to his boat slip. Ty chuckled at the expected reaction. He’d been trying to buy Bud’s pristine ’58 Chris Craft woody for years, but the cantankerous old coot seemed determined to take his prized boat to the grave with him. Hell, ornery cuss would likely use it as his casket.
Returning his attention to the spincast reel in front of him, Ty freed the old nylon cord, leaving enough to make a long cast with the open package of line waiting nearby. He tied the two ends together with a clinch knot, replaced the cover and reeled in the improvised new line, keeping the tension just right to ensure a snug fit on the spool. It was a slow, methodical task. One he’d enjoyed from the very first time his pops took him fishing at the ripe old age of seven.
With the intense sun beating on his bare shoulders and the noisy squawk of gulls piloting overhead, peace and contentment didn’t get much better than this.
“You motherfuckers can take your excuses and shove ’em up your asses.”
Ty’s fingers went lax, his tranquil concentration broken by Gibb’s raised voice floating through the adjacent window. He scooted closer to the end of the picnic table, unabashedly intent on snagging a better position to eavesdrop on Gibb.
“Don’t give me that shit. There’s no reason to send another inspector.” A brief pause preceded a growl from Gibb. “What the hell else would be responsible for the damage? Godzilla falling through our roof?”
Several additional curse words punctuated Gibb’s argument with the insurance company. Ty grunted. It wasn’t like Gibb to throw around profanity willy-nilly when dealing with assholes. Usually that was Ty’s job.
An extended silence ensued, allowing him to deduce the phone conversation must have ended and it ought to be relatively safe to go inside. After propping the restrung rod and reel near the live-bait bins, he ambled into his and Gibb’s cramped office. A fierce scowl homesteaded Gibb’s face.
Ty cleared his throat, nabbing Gibb’s attention. “Dude, you look like you’re two seconds away from stroking out. Should I call the EMT?”
Gibb plowed a hand through his hair, leaving it a spiky, dark golden mess
as he jerked to his feet, sending his chair spinning sideways on its casters. “Fuck it. Maybe we should fix the damn roof ourselves.”
“Uh, hell no.”
“How hard can it be?”
“Got news for ya. Watching a few episodes of This Old House doesn’t qualify me to strap on a tool belt and pretend I can rebuild a roof. I’d probably nail my foot to a shingle.”
An odd, edgy intensity continued to crackle off Gibb. Ty eyed his best friend, his bemusement cresting. “Seriously, man. It’s only a damn roof. Yeah, it chaps my ass too that the insurance company is being a big bag of dicks. But they’ll pay up.”
“Not soon enough.” Gibb dragged his hand down his face and groaned. “Not before I do something stupid.”
Ty frowned. “Afraid I’m not following ya.”
“Good. Last thing I need is you following in my stupid footsteps.”
“You’re really excelling at the cryptic shit today.” Ty swung the chair fronting Gibb’s desk around and took a seat, using its busted back as an improvised armrest. “What gives?”
Gibb remained locked in moody silence long enough Ty figured it’d be yet another case of his best friend choosing the path of least communication. But then something flickered in Gibb’s eyes. Something that suspiciously resembled guilt. “I kissed Kay.”
Of all the things Ty predicted Gibb would say, that sure as hell hadn’t been on the list. “Wha?” He couldn’t even spit out the damn T, that’s how shocked he was.
Nudging his chair aside, Gibb paced in front of the window. “It was an accident. She’d finished telling me about her dipshit ex, and her vulnerability sucker-punched me in the gut. I reacted on instinct. Correction, dumb-ass instinct.”
“You mean you kissed her out of sympathy?”
Averting his gaze, Gibb scratched his nape. “Not exactly.”
Ty pondered that for a moment. “You used tongue?”
Gibb nodded before becoming fixated on a scuff mark on the linoleum. “There might have been dry humping involved too.”
“Day-um.” On the one hand, he was thrilled Gibb had finally done something about his attraction to Kayla. No more faking it that his hormones weren’t in an uproar over her. But at the same time, the hypocrisy of the situation wasn’t lost on Ty. “You dirty cocksucker.”
The irony in that statement didn’t register until roughly two seconds after Ty uttered it. Gibb’s gaze snapped to him, and the tension in the room escalated past the level of uncomfortable and straight to batten down the hatches we’ve got a shitapocalypse approaching.
Since the Day-Glo ninja was already out in the open, Ty saw no point in keeping his next thought to himself. “Oh wait, guess that’d be me.”
“Jesus. Could we not talk about that?”
“Right. Because that approach would be fucking different from every other damn day.” Ty held up his hands when Gibb tried to shove past him to get out the door. “Fine, I’m dropping it. But there’s no way in hell the subject of you kissing Kayla is closed.”
“I already told you it was an accident. It’s not going to happen again.”
“Why?”
Gibb stared at him. “Why? Because it’s Kay, for God’s sake.”
“So? Not like you’re the one with the sister who’d go apeshit and chop off your balls if your dick got even an inch beyond the inner sanctum of Kay’s personal space, much less her pussy. Shit knows if I were in your shoes, I’d take advantage of that fact and set about rocking Kay’s world six ways to Sunday.”
Instead of looking relieved, Gibb’s agitation seemed to increase as he scrubbed a hand over his mouth and strode into the lobby. Ty followed after him. “Did she slap you and run away screaming after you kissed her?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem? I’m willing to bet there’s a better-than-good chance she’ll let you kiss her again. Maybe more.” Reining in his envy over that took some herculean effort.
Gibb pivoted to face him. “I’m not like you. I can’t fuck Kay for the sport of it.”
Fury washed over Ty, tightening every muscle in his body. “Nice to know your opinion of me has sunk to an all-time low.”
A hint of guilt colored Gibb’s face. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way. But I can’t be casual about sex like you. Especially not with Kayla.”
Ty shoved his arms over his chest. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“This is why I didn’t want to talk about it. I should have kept my damn mouth shut.”
“Little late for that.” Spine rigid, Ty stalked outside and grabbed the closest box of tackle. He thunked it roughly onto the picnic table and popped the lid. A few seconds into sorting the lures, Gibb’s shadow fell over Ty, but Ty stubbornly kept his focus glued to the tackle. If Gibb thought he’d patch things over with a lame-ass apology, he could go fuck himself.
After a lengthy silence, Gibb shuffled his feet. “I told myself I’d never get in a serious relationship again after Lorna.”
Ty lifted his head and squinted at Gibb. “Kay is about as different from your ex as a woman can get.”
“I know that. But I also know myself. Christ, it’s impossible for me to keep things simple. Light and fun. When I fall for a woman…”
A large portion of Ty’s anger evaporated as he took in Gibb’s agonized expression. “You get hurt.”
Gibb didn’t confirm the assessment. Didn’t matter. The dark specters in his eyes did all the talking for him. Ty shook his head. “Goddamn that bitch Lorna for doing such a number on you.” He flung the egg sinker in the direction of its cubby and shoved the tackle box toward the corner of the table. “If you continue locking down your heart, it means she’s won. You know that, right?”
Gibb averted his gaze and shrugged. “I can’t afford to keep making stupid mistakes.”
“Stop being a fucking chickenshit.”
A muscle ticced in Gibb’s rigid jaw. “Just because I don’t think with my dick all the damn time doesn’t make me a coward.”
The thinly veiled jab failed to draw blood. Hell, the insult was a sloppy attempt when it came to the snark Gibb was capable of dishing out in regards to Ty’s past carousing. Which meant Ty was dangerously close to getting under Gibb’s skin. “Continuously keeping all your sexual frustration bottled up inside you ain’t any better. Fuck, when’s the last time you got laid? The Simpson twins? You’re living like a goddamn eunuch, man.”
Gibb’s eyes narrowed. “Keeping tabs on my sex life? Sounds to me like you’re the one with a problem.”
“Don’t you mean lack of a sex life? And considering we share the same fuckin’ living quarters, it’s kinda hard for me not to notice the absence of ecstatic cries and headboard banging coming from your room.” Ty swung his arm in the direction of the rear hallway leading to their apartment.
“Maybe I’m nailing their brains out in one of the boats. Ever think of that, asshole?”
“See, the fact you phrased it that way verifies what a load of shit it is.”
Gibb scowled. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“When in your life have you ever nailed a woman? Made love to, fucked, maybe even the occasional screw. But never nail.”
“Christ. Where do you come up with this asinine stuff?”
“Face it, I’m right.” Ty abandoned the picnic table and stepped in front of Gibb, keeping his posture deliberately challenging. “Now and then you have to let your dick do the thinking. It’s the only way you’re gonna defeat your fears. For once, tune out your need to overanalyze every damn little thing and act on your feelings.”
Gibb stared at him hard, a strange blend of panic and some other indefinable but vaguely familiar emotion riding high on his flushed features. “I—”
“No.” Ty jabbed his finger in the middle Gibb’s sternum with enough force to make Gibb flinch. “No more fucking excuses. Do it.”
A rough exhalation was the only response from Gibb before he smacked Ty’s hand a
way and slammed his mouth over Ty’s. If he’d been looking for a way to shut Ty the hell up, he’d sure as shit found it.
Chapter Six
The warning bells rang in Gibb’s ears half a second too late. He took a staggering step backward. Shaken to his core, he scraped his palm over his mouth, disturbed to find that he could still taste the lingering essence of Ty…and it aroused him. Big time. Even the potent, seductive echo of Ty’s aftershave made Gibb’s balls ache. Not fucking good.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” He’d been using that particular phrase way too often lately. Unable to look Ty in the eye, he spun on his heel and strode inside the shop on legs that suddenly seemed like they’d been injected with jelly. He managed to make it as far as the chart table before the telltale scuff of Ty’s dock shoes announced his approach. Steeling himself for the looming confrontation, he turned to face Ty.
“What in the living fuck was that?”
“Nothing. Drop it.”
Storm clouds darkened Ty’s face. “Not gonna happen. You can’t plant a kiss like that on me and blow it off as nothing.”
Queasy panic vised Gibb’s chest. He’d really screwed the pooch this time. First Kayla and now Ty. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he bound and determined to destroy every friendship he had?
“I wasn’t thinking straight.” He winced at the unintentional pun.
A wide grin dispersed Ty’s previous peevishness, and he advanced on Gibb. “You damn well know I’m dying to make a smartass crack right now. But I’m not gonna. Know why?”
He had a bad feeling Ty would fill him in regardless if Gibb wanted him to or not.
“You stopped thinking and you kissed me. Flat-out went for it. Balls to the wall. No hesitation. No giving yourself too much time to second-guess the moment. That is one miraculous breakthrough. And a good thing, way I see it.”
Gibb didn’t bother hiding his skepticism as he squinted at Ty. “Me kissing you is a good thing?”
“Maybe it is.” Ty sidled closer, his presence infiltrating every square inch of Gibb’s breathing space. Heat, sweat and the citrusy aftershave that’d tormented Gibb earlier radiated from Ty, poking at Gibb’s defenses.
