hospital with sixteen stitches in his throat when the guy refused last call.
I grin, thinking of Avie putting him in the hospital. “Erp, wrong answer. Try again.”
Jesus. Am I as obnoxious as I think I am right now?
Devereux narrows his eyes at me, then shakes his head in annoyance. He focuses on Avie, who’s positioned himself between Devereux and me. “I came to get the ring back.”
I smile at Avie, snort, and he smiles, because he knows what I did with the ring. My back straightens, and for someone who has always thought of herself as the poor little sick girl, I have courage like I’ve never had before. It’s like the moment in Brave when Merida finally realizes the bear had been her mother all along. Okay, maybe not like that at all, but I love that movie, so I’m going to say I’m like the lead in Brave, and you’re just going to fucking agree with me. Unless you want on my bad side too.
I lean toward Nick and whisper, “If you want the ring, I hope you know how to swim because it’s in the bottom of the Pacific.” I push past Avie and into the bar.
Presley is standing near the door, her mouth hanging open. “Damn, girl. I’ve never seen that side before.”
My heart pounds in my chest, thumping wildly against my breastbone. “I don’t even know where that came from.”
“Well, you’re gonna need it tonight when the boys from the Amphitrite come in.”
She’s right, I will.
Backing Down - Maneuvering in reverse when offshore fishing while attempting to land a fish.
“Table four. That’s all I’m going to say.”
My attention wanders toward table four. Presley’s right. That’s all she needs to say.
Damn….
Rugged manliness hugs the corner of the bar.
Clearly not locals, I’ve never seen either one of the men until today, and about an hour into the night, Presley knows they’re brothers from Ilwaco, own a fishing boat (the Amphitrite) and have been tuna fishing for the last week. Lincoln and Bear Hardy. I don’t know which one is which, though. But I wish I knew.
Yep, they’re fishermen. Before you go thinking fishermen are just greasy old men with beards and missing teeth, you’ve clearly never seen the Hardy brothers and their friends. They’re beautiful. That’s the only way to describe them. Okay, not so much their friends, but the brothers, yep. Drool-worthy.
“Think they’re lonely?” she asks, watching both of them.
I stand next to the bar, a tray in my hand filled with two pitchers of beer. Beer I’m supposed to be taking over to their table. “I don’t know. Probably?”
Presley nudges me. “I bet they could be a good distraction from Dev the dick.”
I wouldn’t mind a distraction. With curiosity, my interest moves to the table. Avie walks by, obscuring my vision.
“Do you two not see this place?” He motions around dramatically. “Get to work. And where the fuck is Mal and Dylan?”
“Mal’s running late and Dylan’s off tonight,” I remind him. I literally had this conversation with him twenty minutes ago.
Presley rolls her eyes and slaps her palm on Avie’s chest, the bank envelope he’d been searching for earlier handed to him. He says nothing to her and takes the envelope from her.
Her lips purse in annoyance. “You could say thank you.”
I have a feeling it’s more of “say thank you for last night,” but he doesn’t see it that way.
“I do say thank you,” he mumbles, thumbing through the money inside. “It’s called a fucking paycheck and you get it once a week. If you don’t do your job, you don’t get it.”
Jesus Christ, Avie.
Presley’s face heats and she grabs two menus from the counter with haste. “Got it, boss.”
She steps around him without another word.
I stare at him with disgust. “Nice, asshole.”
Regret warps his features, but he doesn’t say anything.
Avie can be a ruthless dick sometimes. Which is why I didn’t want him involved with Presley. She’s a sweet girl and doesn’t deserve this. Avie disappears to the back room, his shoulder bumping into mine. Yep, asshole.
Adjusting the tray on my hand, I make my way over to the table. The guys are hunched toward one another in a conversation over a map. I smile when I reach their table in an attempt to capture their awareness. “Here’s your pitcher of Guinness. Is there anything else I can get you?” That’s where I stop. I stop because that is the moment when his eyes find mine. Hell, the world might as well have