Reckless (Pier 70, 1)

by Nicole Edwards

  Leaning back in his chair, balancing it on two legs, Gannon placed his hands behind his head, elbows wide as he regarded her. “A boat?” he asked skeptically, still hoping he’d heard her wrong.

  “Yes.” The single word rang with an emphatic exhale, as though she was frustrated because he had a problem understanding. “A couple of hours out on the lake. Sunshine, conversation. It’s just what the team needs.”

  “The team?”

  Milly frowned. “Stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  She huffed. “Responding to me with two word questions. It’s really irritating.”

  Smiling at how easily he could get her flustered, Gannon peered past Milly and through the wall of glass that separated his office from the rest of the floor. The place looked the same as it did on any Friday morning. A few people were wandering around, a couple of guys talking, several sitting in front of their monitors working diligently.

  “They look happy to me,” he said, nodding toward one of the designers who had snuck over to the open box of donuts to steal another one, flushing to the roots of his jet-black hair when he looked over to see Gannon watching him.

  Gannon offered a small wave and a smile. With a mouthful, the guy waved back, then scurried back to his desk.

  “You don’t talk to them enough,” Milly said firmly.

  “You want me to go out there and chat?” Gannon frowned, his glasses sliding down his nose. Pushing them back up, he cocked an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain.

  “No, I don’t. I want you to get them out of the office for a little while.”

  “On a boat?” he repeated.

  “Gannon.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh at the admonishing tone she used with him. She should’ve been used to it by now; after all, she’d worked for him for nearly a decade, and shortly after that, she’d insinuated herself smack in the middle of his life, becoming his closest friend. She knew him better than most people, but there was still a lot she didn’t know about him. And Gannon preferred it that way. The less people knew, the better off he was.

  And one of the things she didn’t know about him was that he hated water. Perhaps that wasn’t a strong enough adjective. Loathed, abhorred, detested. Or … all of those to the power of infinity.

  Yes, that worked.

  Unless it was in a concrete bowl in someone’s backyard or in his own bathtub, Gannon steered clear of it. A shower was his idea of a water sport, and he was content with that. The notion of spending an afternoon floating on the stuff… Let’s just say he’d rather have someone pluck his toenails off with pliers, then feed them to him. The toenails. Or the pliers. Either way.

  Clearly oblivious to Gannon’s internal musings, Milly continued, “I already know the perfect place. It’s about an hour away.”

  “An hour? Why not one of the lakes right here in Austin?” Not that he thought it was a good idea.

  “Because they’re too low right now.”

  He’d have to take her word on that.

  “So why this particular place?” he questioned, not willing to give in just yet.

  “I don’t know,” Milly huffed. “It looks nice.”

  “Looks nice?”

  Milly pursed her lips. “Yes. On their website. And if you get your butt out of your chair, we can go right now. Get things set up.”

  Dropping his chair back down, Gannon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded her once more. “Go now? What are you talking about? Why not just call them?”

  “Because I don’t know what I’m asking for.” The tops of Milly’s ears turned the same color red as her lipstick, and he realized she was embarrassed. “I was hoping we could go check it out, make sure it’s something we want to do.”

  Gannon could’ve told her that we definitely didn’t want to do any of it. Her, maybe. Him, nope.

  Getting up, Gannon walked around behind his desk, getting ready to sit down at his computer so he could get some work done.

  “No, don’t sit down,” she blurted, sitting up straight. “Come on. It’ll be fun. And who knows, maybe there’ll be a couple of hot guys there we can flirt with.”

  Gannon gave her his best get real look. “I’m not in the market for a guy right now. Hot or otherwise.”

  “Sure you are,” she countered in that tone that said she knew him better than he knew himself. “And just think, it’s easier for you to meet guys when I’m with you.”

  Gannon grimaced. “How’s that?”

  “Well, if they aren’t checking me out, then we know they’re gay.”

  Smiling, he rolled his eyes.

  That was another thing about Milly, she certainly wasn’t modest.

  “Now get your shit together,” Milly ordered as she stood. “We’re wastin’ time.”

  And there was the hard-headed, take-no-shit assistant he knew and loved. She was good at a lot of things, but ordering him around… That was something Milly had mastered years ago.

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Gannon relented. He wasn’t going to be able to convince her this was a bad idea, no matter how much he wanted to. Truth was, Milly did have the team’s best interests in mind when she made her suggestions. If she thought they’d enjoy a day out on the boat, maybe they would.

  He wouldn’t.

  But even he knew it wasn’t about him.

  Half an hour later, after Milly had tied up a few loose ends and allotted him fifteen minutes to check his email, Gannon was behind the wheel of his car, Milly riding shotgun.

  “This is exciting,” she said, bouncing in her seat like a five-year-old on the way to the toy store.

  “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Exciting.”

  “Oh, cool it.” Milly smacked his arm playfully. “Seriously. I think the guys’ll love going out on a boat. It’s definitely better than sitting in that stale office all day.”

  “No,” Gannon clarified, glancing over at her from behind his glasses, “I think you’ll love going out on a boat. I think they’d prefer to be given the day off so they can go home and play World of Warcraft.”

  “Shush!” Her eyes widened as though he’d taken the Lord’s name in vain. “How dare you speak of the enemy in my presence?”

  Gannon laughed. She was incredibly loyal to Burgess Entertainment, insisting that any other gaming company paled in comparison.

  “Fine,” he conceded. “They’d rather be home playing Rise of Vengeance.”

  “Whatever,” she interrupted. “They shouldn’t be at home, period. They need to get out, experience life from the other side of those video game controllers.”

  No matter what she said, Gannon knew he was right. The people he employed were hard-core gamers. When not at work, they spent their time behind a keyboard, immersed in the video game underworld. Their lives were online, not out in a boat. But he knew he could never convince Milly of that. She insisted that no one could be that humdrum.

  They could. And they were.

  Gannon knew firsthand. He was one of them.

  However, she refused to believe him. He’d had more than one heated discussion with Milly, usually over dinner and a bottle of wine, about how someone could get addicted to games. She didn’t see it, and Gannon couldn’t explain it, so he didn’t bother to try.

  “We should make sure they have sunscreen,” Milly mumbled, staring out the window. “And maybe hats.” Her head swiveled around, attention on him. “You, too. I think you need a hat.”

  Gannon frowned. “I’m not wearing a hat.”

  “What if your head gets sunburned?”

  Gannon chuckled. “I go out in the sun all the time.”

  “Walking to your car from the office doesn’t count,” she countered.

  Eager to get off the subject, Gannon asked, “Don’t you have a date this weekend?”

  Milly sighed, leaning back in her seat as though she’d been defeated. “Yeah. With Gary.”

  Was it him, or did she sound a little disappointed? “What
’s wrong with Gary?”

  “Nothing,” she told him, sighing dramatically. “You need to turn up here.”

  Gannon put on his blinker to exit the highway. “If nothing’s wrong with him, what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is he boring?”

  “No. He’s a musician. Nothing boring about that.”

  If she said so. “Is he ugly?”

  “God no. He’s freaking hot.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “We have nothing in common,” she answered. “He’s a starving artist who craves the rock star lifestyle. While I’m … not.” Milly offered him a grin. “And while his stories are interesting, I don’t really care for them.”

  “Then why’re you going out with him again?” Gannon cast a sideways glance her way.

  “Because I can’t come up with a good enough excuse not to.”

  “Well, then, by all means, suffer through it.”

  Milly smacked his arm again. “Shut it. I’ll figure something out. What about you? You have any plans to date in the near future?”

  Gannon shook his head. The last date he’d had was… Shit. Probably a year ago? Two years ago?

  Holy crap. Apparently time flies when you’re … not dating.

  Damn, now that he thought about it, that did seem like a long time. Not that he’d even given it a second thought. At least not when Milly wasn’t bringing it up. Dating wasn’t the most important thing in his life. Burgess Entertainment took up most of his time and could technically qualify as his significant other.

  “One of these days,” Milly began, “you’re gonna meet a guy who’s gonna knock you right on that cute ass of yours.”

  Gannon frowned over at her.

  “What? Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean I can’t admire your cute buns.”

  “My buns are not cute,” he blurted.

  “Oh, they definitely are and so is—”

  “Which direction do I go?” Gannon interrupted, desperate to cut her off. He’d heard this before, and as good as Milly was for his ego, he definitely didn’t want to hear it again.

  “Take a right,” she told him, a wide grin splitting her face. “It’s a few miles down this road.”

  Gannon was thankful they were close. The conversation had taken a weird turn, and he was more interested in getting this out of the way so he could get back to the office and do what he did best.

  Work.

  “I think you’ll like this place,” Milly commented. “And just wait till you see the guys who work here.”

  Gannon’s head snapped in her direction. “What? What guys? You didn’t mention anything about guys.”

  That smile.

  Ah, crap. “Dammit, Milly.”

  Gannon knew that smile.

  Gannon feared that smile.

  Three

  Looking up at the clock, Cam shook out his hands, then leaned back in his chair and spun around to stare out the window overlooking the smooth, glassy water that seemed to go on for miles and miles.

  Damn, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  He should be out there.

  Spinning back around, he glared at his computer screen.

  Not in here.

  For the past two hours, he’d managed to focus on entering the monthly deposits into the system, comparing them to the rental agreements, and ensuring everyone was paid up for the month. It made his day when he only had to change the gate code for one renter who had yet to pay up. Hopefully, they’d see that person sometime this week and get squared away.

  Handling the money and updating the books was a tedious task that he actually enjoyed doing most of the time. However, given the opportunity, he would’ve procrastinated in order to spend time outdoors.

  It was what he did best.

  Spending time outdoors, not the procrastinating. Although…

  Okay, so sure, he wasn’t above looking for something more enjoyable than paperwork.

  Thankfully, this side of the company was not his main focus—or even something he was particularly good at—but on the flip side, Cam preferred to keep up to date on the state of the business, and this allowed him to do that. They had an accountant who handled the details, but Cam made a point to update the books every week—okay, every couple of weeks … er … once a month, but who was counting?

  The handheld radio sitting on his desk chirped.

  “Hey, good buddy,” Dare announced in the crazy radio voice he loved to do, “anyone order up a side of bacon?”

  Cam laughed.

  “I repeat, we’ve got bacon.”

  Cam grabbed the radio and hit the button. “Roger that.”

  While he’d worked, Cam had listened to the radios chirp endlessly as Roan, Dare, and Teague bantered back and forth while they’d handled the incoming appointments and prepared the boats for the afternoon. And now, according to Dare’s non-PC announcement, it looked as though Cam’s father had arrived. Dare found it amusing to refer to Cam’s father as bacon because he was a retired police officer. Michael Strickland was a good sport and he took it all in stride. It helped that Dare really did have the utmost respect for the man.

  Hearing the delayed door alarm, Cam closed his laptop and looked up as his father appeared in his office doorway looking every bit the sturdy presence he’d always been in Cam’s life.

  “Is he still callin’ me bacon?” Michael asked, his grin causing the skin beside his dark blue eyes to crinkle.

  “He is,” Cam confirmed. “Good mornin’, Pop.”

  “Mornin’,” his father replied, his rough voice reflecting years of smoking. His father’s thick salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back, the white bushy mustache over his lip could’ve used a bit of a trim, and yes, he was smiling. He looked good, relaxed.

  Leaning back in his chair, Cam studied him. “What brings you by?”

  Michael propped himself against the door jamb, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just checkin’ on you boys.”

  Cam smiled. At least once a week, sometimes more, his father stopped by to see how Cam, Roan, Dare, and Teague were doing. And not to talk business, either. Although Cam’s father had fronted the money for the marina in the beginning, Cam had since paid him back and assumed full responsibility. So Michael’s visits were always personal in nature, a chance for them to catch up. He would stick around for an hour, sometimes several hours, but he never left until he had a chance to talk to all four of them. Cam figured that was the cop in him. Sort of like a welfare check to ensure everything was kosher.

  Not that Cam minded. He enjoyed spending time with his father, and these days, they didn’t do enough of it.

  “We’re doin’ good,” Cam told him. “Gonna be busy startin’ next week.”

  “Need any help?”

  “Not yet, but if it comes to that, I won’t hesitate to call. Why? Are you bored?”

  Michael laughed. “Bored? Not a chance. I’ve got a boat and a fishin’ pole. And three grandkids. What more do I need?”

  Cam knew his father was playing up the whole retired fisherman routine. Michael had spent forty-five years on the force, every day a new adventure according to him. The fact that he’d retired at sixty-five had surprised everyone, but he’d insisted it was time. Now, not only did Cam’s father visit the marina frequently, he’d been known to man the office, help Holly out with the events, even assist Hudson out in the repair shop. Rarely did he go out on the boat to relax.

  “What more do you need?” Cam echoed.

  The radio on his desk chirped and Cam reached over to turn it down.

  “Well, I won’t keep you,” Michael said, glancing down at the computer on Cam’s desk. “Looks like you’re focused. But maybe we can have lunch one of—”

  Before Michael could finish his sentence, a deep voice echoed down the hall, coming from the front counter. “Anyone here?”

  Cam frowned. He hadn’t heard anyone come in.

  “Coming!” Cam hollered back as
he pushed out of his chair. Looking at his father, he smiled. “And yes to lunch. That sounds good.”

  “All right then.” His father grinned, clapping Cam on the shoulder. “I’m off. Gonna go find the boys.”

  “Give Dare hell.”

  “Oh, I plan to,” his father said. “Don’t you worry.”

  “See you, Pop,” Cam said as his father led the way back to the front office, then maneuvered past the newcomers on his way out the door.

  Cam followed behind, and after offering his father a casual wave, he pulled his attention to the two people standing at the counter. He did a double take after grabbing the appointment book and pulling it toward him.

  Well. This was certainly new.

  He fought the urge to smile as he watched the well-dressed man and woman peering around as though they’d never seen the inside of a marina office before. Cam wasn’t even sure they’d noticed him as they studied the rules they had posted on the wall.

  Through the years, Cam had seen all walks of life come through that door, and these two … they were clearly the corporate types, which made him wonder if they were lost. It wouldn’t surprise him if they were. The way they were dressed, Cam doubted they’d seen much more than an office building in years.

  The boyishly handsome man was suited up, sans the jacket, wearing a white dress shirt, buttoned at the wrists, along with a blue silk tie and—Cam peered over the counter—fancy black loafers. He looked kind of … starchy. As well as completely out of his element in the small office.

  As for the woman… Cam’s initial assessment leaned more toward rich-girl chic. With her fancy … er … skirt-suit … outfit … or whatever it was called, her swanky though messy up-do, big hoop earrings, and bright red heels, she looked as though she should be in a boardroom, not in a marina office. She was pretty, in a New York law firm type of way. But he had to give her a little credit, she looked slightly more at ease than her partner.

  “Can I help you?” Cam asked politely, trying not to think about the T-shirt and board shorts he was wearing. Then again, at least he had his shirt on. Most of the time they spent their days shirtless, because, for one, they were often in the water, and two, it was much easier to endure the ridiculous Texas summer temperatures that way. Even with his sun-faded Pier 70 T-shirt, he suddenly felt incredibly underdressed up next to these two.