I glance at Nate and shake my head, incredulous. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“You don’t have a say, Kira. They’re hell-bent on doing this.”
“You have a say,” I tell him. “You don’t have to participate.”
“I don’t have a choice, either,” he says.
I turn back to the crew. “Guys, this is too much, and I’m leaving here next month. My life is out west.” Although, truly, what I have out west is work, and I can do my research anywhere. Heck, I could do it from the partnering university in Halifax. Mom and Dad likely wouldn’t even know I’ve gone.
Wait, what am I saying? No way am I considering this, right?
“Will you at least think about it?” Sam asks, his big eyes so serious, so sad, my throat tightens.
I open my mouth, desperate to put a stop to this and say no, but find myself saying, “Okay.”
God, how could I say no when the class clown looks like he’s ready to sob. I mean, these guys loved Gram as much as me, and unlike me, they were here for her in her time of need.
Chapter Fourteen
Nate
As I maneuver my truck through town, all I can think is TGIF. Not that I don’t like what I do at the plant. I love working here in the Lunenburg facility, and the people, well, they’re kind of growing on me, too. But I’m looking forward to a couple of days off. Not that I have anything exciting planned. My Friday nights aren’t what they used to be.
Before I came here, my weekends consisted of a few drinks at the bar and a hot woman between the sheets, one I had no intention of ever setting eyes on again—yeah, I’m a chip off the old block in many ways. Although, one-night stands just doesn’t hold the appeal they once used to—thanks to Kira.
Dammit, she’s been a distraction, and I can’t forget the real reason I’m here in Lunenburg—to install a state-of-the-art processing plant, which is on hold until I can secure the last oceanfront cottage. I’ve been avoiding my family’s phone calls for the past few days. Fuck, the old man needs to lay off and trust that I can get this done within budget. He believes in making money, not spending it, but the bottom line is, if we don’t invest now, we fail later. For some reason, he can’t see that, or appreciate the direction I’m taking the business.
As I drive by The Old Fish Factory, I now see they’re selling lame clams. I chuckle but suppose that’s better than clam whores. I stop in to see Frank about the repairs on my vehicle, and he informs me he’s still waiting on one part for my sports car.
Most people don’t drive fancy cars like these.
Hence the delay. No problem, I’m not really in a hurry. The company truck is much more suited for this weather anyway. Back in my truck, I drive to my old Victorian mansion and check on progress before heading to work. In a couple of weeks, the new plumbing should be complete, and the place should be move-in ready.
A strange knot tightens in my stomach. I love my privacy, thrive on it, but the thought of leaving Gram’s and taking up residency in the big old house all alone seems a little…lonely. If Kira sells, maybe the crew could move in with me for the next few weeks. We could finish off the lobster season like the big happy family we’ve become. The truth is, I never really felt like I had a family of my own, and I’ve grown close to the crew over the last few weeks—grown close to Kira. I can’t deny that I enjoy sliding between the sheets with her every night and waking up together in the morning before the others. Seeing her smile before she drifts off, warm and sated each night, and putting that smile on her face again every morning before we part ways for the day. Fuck, it’s the best part of my day. For a guy who was dead set against sleepover…