Page 57 of Feels Like the First Time
Chapter 11
Later that night, Ali was in bed, staring across the parking lot into Hawk’s bedroom window. It was dark, of course, because he was tending bar downstairs. But that didn’t stop her from peeking.
She considered walking into the bar and ordering a drink. Hawk, after all, had tried to convince her to go with him just an hour earlier. But the bar was where they normally hung out, and Ali wasn’t ready to share him yet.
Maybe it sounded selfish, but she knew the second he walked into his bar, every person there would be drawn to him. That was part of Hawk’s charm; he was such a funny and easygoing guy that people immediately felt better just being around him.
So Ali had given a regretful no, and Hawk had done his best to persuade her into changing her mind. Even giving her a kiss that felt as if it could have lasted until the sun rose. And wobbly legs or not, she’d stood her ground. And now she was looking at spending her Friday down in her shop, working on her vintage-inspired produce stand piece.
Only first, she needed her angle grinder. Marty had borrowed it a few weeks ago, when he started spring cleaning on the boat, which meant refinishing all of the teak railings, and replacing the rusted rung on the boat’s ladder. She’d seen it earlier that day in his toolbox.
Careful not to wake the house, Ali turned off her headlights before she pulled into his driveway and then tiptoed down to the dock. Once on board, she navigated herself below deck, and bumped into something soft—and breathing.
Ali grabbed the handle of a nearby fishing net, ready to swing when the boat lights flicked on.
She blinked. “Dad? What are you doing down here?”
“Getting ready for bed. What are you doing with my net?”
“I was going to pummel you with it.” Ali lowered the net and sat on the bench, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Marty, barefoot, in a pair of black slacks, a button-up, and a parrot-covered bow tie. “It’s after eleven.”
“My thoughts exactly. What are you doing here?” he asked, channeling that parent tone that had Ali expecting him to tagyoung ladyto the end.
“I was coming to find my grinder,” she said. “And you still didn’t tell me what you’re doing awake.”
“Oh,” he said with a small laugh. “I was out with the guys.”
The dressiest “the guys” ever got was wearing a polo shirt when they went golfing. Ali looked at his Sunday suit and crossed her arms. “You’re awfully snazzy for someone who’s just been ‘out with the guys.’ Try again.”
Marty loosened his tie and busied himself by pouring two glasses of milk. “Okay, fine, I was out. But not with the guys.”
“Uh-huh,” Ali said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Then who were you out with?”
Marty set a glass of milk in front of her, then stood while he sipped his. Ali watched the pink rise up his neck, the way he avoided eye contact, the way he was deflecting. He was sneaking around, but why?
Ali froze, then slapped her hand over her mouth. The fancy clothes, the new hair, sleeping on the boat, all the sneaking around. The question to ask wasn’t why, but who.
“Were you out with a girl?” That pink went bright red and ran all the way up his face. “Oh my God.” Ali stood. “You were out with a girl!” She paused, trying to think of anyone her dad had given a second look, and couldn’t think of a single person. Except…
Ali gagged. “It isn’t Mom, is it? Please tell me you’re not dating Mom again.”
Marty looked as horrified as Ali sounded. “I am not dating Gail.”
“Okay, I know the kids are more causal these days, so let me rephrase. Are you having sex with my mom?”
“No.” He did sound quite as horrified aboutthatpossibility as he had about reentering the dating world.Gross.“How could you think that?” Ali lifted a brow. “Okay, so I’ve made a few slips in the past.”
“A few? You dated her five times and married her twice.” Ali sat back. “They say the third time’s the charm.”
“I promise you, your mom and I are not having sex.”Thank God!
“Then tell me why you’re out until all hours, sleeping on the boat, sneaking around.”
Marty put his milk glass on the table and sat down across from her. “I’ve been racking my brain for years to find a way to reach your sister, show her how much she means to me. Then last week, she asked me to walk her down the aisle.”
“She did?” Ali couldn’t hold back the smile. “That’s great, Dad. I know that means a lot to you and I am really happy that she asked.”
She was relieved, really. The wedding was getting closer and Ali had been afraid that Bridget was going to ask someone else to do it. There had even been talk of Jamie’s dad walking her down the aisle. And Marty’s heart was struggling as it was. Being skipped over, again? Ali didn’t think he could have handled that kind of rejection.
