Page 70 of The Scars I Bare
Taylor held out his hand, and I took it. There was a warmth about him but also sadness, a worn-out tiredness beyond his years.
“Nice to meet you, Taylor.”
“You, too, ma’am. You take care of my brother.” He grinned.
“Yes, sir.” I laughed before he turned to leave.
“And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he hollered over his shoulder.
“What wouldn’t you do?” Dean yelled back.
Taylor raised his fist in the air before he hopped in his truck. “That’s the spirit!”
Dean was shaking his head as we turned back toward the docks. “Sorry about that. He’s been swamped. It was the only time I could get the keys from him, and I really wanted to do dinner on the boat.”
“He seems nice,” I commented as we walked together.
“He is,” he said.
“But?”
He let out a huff. “But he’s miserable, and it’s my fault.”
“He’s a good brother,” I simply said.
He squeezed my hand as we stepped up to the boat. “The best.”
Taking a quick look around, the first thing I noticed was that it wasn’t a fishing boat like I’d expected. No lingering smell of fish guts, no nets, and nothing else that screamedwork vessel. This boat was small. Much smaller than I’d anticipated and looked like it was built for fun more than labor.
“So, how do we get on it?” I asked. “Do I need to—”
Before I had a chance to finish that sentence, Dean was carrying me, one-armed, over the side.
“What? Oh my gosh!” I squealed.
Setting me down, he bent back upright and said, “I hope that was okay. I just figured it was the easiest and quickest way.”
My lips pressed together as I looked up at him.
Suddenly, he began to look worried. “I’m sorry. Was that wrong? I should have asked first.”
“That was ridiculously hot,” I said, the words bursting out. “You did that one-handed. That was, like, one of my fantasies come to life.”
“So, not wrong then?” He grinned.
“Oh no, you can do that all the time. Definitely,” I gushed.
“Duly noted.”
He played it off as cool, but I could see the sentiment in his eyes. I couldn’t have paid him a better compliment if I’d tried.
“So, what’s for dinner?” I asked as I watched him begin to set up.
“Can’t tell you,” he said.
“It’s a surprise?”
“Nope. I can’t tell you because I don’t know.”
