Page 12 of Forbidden Kisses
“Not sure that building would pay the bills, but…”
“Well, in the words of Abby, you’re loaded, so who cares?” Grace winked at him when he looked up. She was trying to soften the mood that Chris’s memory had suddenly cast. It seemed to work, because now instead of sadness in his eyes, she saw a familiar heat. Working for the Sawyer family was going to be so much trouble, namely because of the man sitting across from her.
Chapter 4
At midafternoon Jack headed over to the recreational area to start repairing the kayak launch. There was no fixing it, though. It was ruined. He’d be better off tearing the entire thing apart and starting from scratch.
“Jack? What do you want me doing?”
Tristan walked up, hands on his hips.
Jack pointed. “I’m sawing wood to the measurements needed to make walking room for two people side by side, with a foot to spare on either side. I’ll saw and you’ll pile the wood when I’m done. Things will go faster that way.”
An hour later, Jack had cut enough wood to get them started on rebuilding.
Tristan walked over and wiped his hand across his forehead as if he’d done an entire day’s worth of work. “Is it break time yet?” he asked.
Jack looked up. He couldn’t blame the kid. This was probably as much work as he’d done in his entire life. “No,” Jack said with a laugh. “And if you want to do this job, you have to do it right. That means you need to earn a break.” Jack realized he sounded like one of those adults he’d rolled his eyes at as a kid. But someone had to teach Tristan about being a man and doing a day’s work.
Tristan stared at him. “I don’t want this job, but I don’t want to go to jail more. So what’s next?”
Jack repositioned the ball cap on his head. The sun was high and the heat from the saw was making him even hotter. “Next we switch,” he said.
A look of surprise lifted Tristan’s dark brows. “You’re gonna let me take a turn at the saw?”
Jack nodded. “Can you be trusted?” he asked. “I don’t want to have to take you to the emergency room this afternoon and get your finger sewn back on.”
“I can do it,” Tristan said.
This made Jack smile. “Okay, good. Let me show you how it works.”
By the time Jack made it home late that afternoon, his muscles ached, which he equated with one of the best feelings in the world. There was a soreness that set in after a good day of fishing. This was similar. The kayak launch was nearly complete. At Gabe’s request, they were going to build onto it, adding another lift and a small pier. Tristan couldn’t argue about the work. The damages he’d done were greater than just one launch. The boat needed to be fixed, too.
Jack grabbed some leftover Chinese takeout from the fridge and sat down at his computer to start looking at various designs he might replicate with the new launch and pier. His cousin hadn’t asked for anything fancy, but this kind of work excited Jack. He drank two more beers at the computer until he found a design that would be easy enough for two people to build. Then Jack headed to bed.
The next morning, Jack willed his eyes open, on the edge of waking and a nightmare. In the dream, Chris was sitting with him at the front of theSummerly,sunglasses reflecting a perfect day.
A day that was damned to be the worst within an hour.
Jack didn’t want to relive that memory, but his mind apparently did, because once or twice a week the dream came to him as crystal clear as the water had been that May morning.
“I’m heading back,” Chris yelled over the sound of the roaring motor, cutting through the ocean.
Dream-Jack gave a brief nod. Sweaty-sleeping-Jack wanted to scream, yell, curse until it changed the outcome. The boat continued forward, though. Dream-Jack smiled. All he could hear was the sound of the motor and the wind rushing against his ear. He never heard any yells for help. Maybe there had never been any. Maybe Chris had fallen overboard and been swallowed up by the ocean so fast that there hadn’t been time to cry out. Jack would never know.
With a huge gasp, Jack awoke, sitting straight up in bed. He’d have thought he was the one who’d gone underwater that day instead of his childhood best friend. He ran a hand over his face and turned to glance out the window. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Jack dragged his bare feet down the hall toward the fridge and grabbed a bottled water. He must have lost at least that much in sweat during his nightmare. As he drank, a knock on the door grabbed his attention. It was still fisherman’s hours, so there were only a few people it could be.
“Hey, Dad,” Jack said as he opened the door. “What brings you here?”
His father stepped inside. “Ah, you know how it is. We scraped the bottom of the boat on the seafloor early this morning as we were going under the bridge. Knocked us into one of the columns. Sam is taking it to get fixed.”
Jack shook his head. “I’m sure it was all Sam’s fault.” Sam and his father were a crew, the same way Jack, Chris, and Noah had been a crew.
His father lifted an eyebrow. “Of course it was Sam’s fault. Always is,” he joked.
“I was just about to make some coffee. Want a cup?”
His father sat heavily on the sofa. “That’s why I came. That, and Sam told me you needed to talk to me.”
