Chapter 12

It was a cold, blustery day. Jack always wore his rain gear during this time of year. Despite the heavy cloud cover, though, no rain appeared as he pulled nets from the depths of the ocean.

But with every catch he pulled in, Jack almost wanted to toss all of it back into the water. The salmon were small and pathetic-looking. The percentage of his catch that he could actually sell seemed to dwindle with every net he pulled in.

He was sweating by the time he’d finished. Stripping out of his raincoat, he let himself enjoy the brisk wind that would make anyone else shiver. The Pacific wasn’t exactly warm and inviting. It was easily twenty degrees cooler on the water than on land.

Jack felt a few raindrops hit his head. When the deluge began, he couldn’t bring himself to put his coat back on. He let the rain soak him to the skin. Maybe, deep down, he hoped that he could cleanse himself of whatever bad karma had infected all his catches.

~What the hell am I going to do? ~His savings were dwindling—fast. He’d thought he’d saved enough of a nest egg. But between house repairs, multiple poor seasons of salmon and crab, and then stupidly committing to finance Gwen’s restaurant, Jack knew he was screwed. Even a man who lived off the grid had some bills to pay.

He returned to the harbor slowly, not just because of the rain but because he didn’t want to see the looks of concern from his workers or fellow fishermen. Several of the fishermen and -women who worked on the island worked for large businesses that could afford these lean times. Only a handful was like Jack’s, a mostly one-man enterprise.

Jack hated the thought of no longer being his own boss. He’d have quotas, expectations. He’d have to heed whatever stupid rules the owners felt like imposing. And for what? Lower pay and the possibility of shitty health insurance? It didn’t appeal to Jack in the slightest.

“Looking a little damp!” said Lyle after Jack had docked. Lyle, a red-faced, pleasant sort of guy, guffawed at Jack. “You’d think after all of these years you’d remember to bring an umbrella with you.”

Jack wasn’t in the mood for Lyle’s jokes. Pushing his wet hair out of his face, he replied, “The rain doesn’t bother me.”

“You know, when I was your age, it didn’t bother me, either. But as I got older, I realized that wearing wet denim sucks balls.”

Jack barely heard Lyle’s random chatter. It was only when he heard Lyle mention Gwen’s name that Jack’s head whipped up.

“What was that?” said Jack.

Lyle chuckled. “Now you’re listening to me. I was just asking if you two were an item.”

Jack had the strongest urge to push the man into the water. Mostly it was because Lyle was smirking at him like he knew what he was asking was ridiculous.

“We’re friends,” growled Jack.

“You don’t sound like you’re happy about that. Did she friend-zone you?” Lyle slapped Jack’s shoulder. “Bummer, man.”

Another defensive remark was on Jack’s tongue, but he held it back. Why did he care what Lyle Hutchins thought? Lyle just liked to rile people for his own amusement. He was also one of the worst gossips on Hazel Island. Jack didn’t know how the man had time to winnow out information when he had his own fish to catch.

Both luckily and unluckily, Lyle’s comments about Gwen ended when he noticed how dismal Jack’s catches were. “Shit, is that from this morning?”

Jack snorted. “No, they’re from two years ago, Lyle. Just a bunch of live salmon I’ve had stored on my boat.”

Lyle poked at one of the salmon, clearly ignoring Jack’s sarcastic comment. “It might be time for me to retire. The missus won’t be pleased, but what’s a man to do when the fish are this bad?”

Lyle’s gaze was sympathetic now. “You gonna be okay, Benson?”

God, Jack hated pity. His jaw tight, he managed to say in a rough voice, “I’ll manage.”

“If you need money—”

“I’m not taking your fucking money.” Jack shook his head. “Not in this life or the next.”

But some hours later, the single bin of salmon in the back of his truck, Jack wondered. If he needed money, the one person who would say yes was Luke. And the thought of being in Luke’s debt was unbearable.

It would mean admitting that Jack had failed. That he’d have to go begging for funds. And although Luke wouldn’t lord it over him, the blow to Jack’s pride would be enough to make Jack want to end the friendship. How could he look Luke in the eye as an equal after that?

No, he wouldn’t ask Luke for a dime. Not for himself, at least. For Gwen, though, he would.

The thought of Gwen made Jack’s stomach twist. In all honesty, he didn’t know if he could still afford to give her the money that he’d promised her. But the thought of going back on his promise made him want to rage at himself.

What if Gwen took it personally? Or worse, that he was breaking his word because his idea to have an affair with her had already backfired spectacularly?

Jack pressed his forehead to the steering wheel at a stoplight. It was only when someone honked behind him that he realized the light had turned green. Considering that it was once in a blue moon that anyone on the island actually used their horn, he must’ve been sitting at the green light for a decent amount of time.

When Jack arrived at the bed and breakfast, he couldn’t find Gwen. The entrance and dining room were empty. The kitchen was also deserted. It was only when Jack went upstairs that he heard Gwen’s voice and her laughter.

At the end of the long hallway, Gwen was standing in front of an open doorway. Jack hurried toward her until he heard a man’s voice replying to Gwen’s.

Jack stopped. The hairs on the back of his neck rose when Gwen laughed again. Who was she talking to?

The green beast of jealousy made him clench his fists. Gwen’s cheeks were pink, her hair tumbling about her shoulders. Based on the way she was smiling, she was clearly enjoying her conversation.

“Gwen,” said Jack, only a few feet away now.

Gwen turned, surprise clear on her face. “Jack! Oh, I must’ve lost track of time.” She then turned back to the open doorway. “I hope you have a good morning.”

The man answered in the affirmative before Gwen shut the door. “Were you looking around for me? I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to the time,” she said.

“You were busy,” said Jack dully.

“Just welcoming a new guest, that’s all. He came all the way from Los Angeles. He’d seen the great reviews and decided to stay here after he’d spent some time in Seattle.” She peered more closely at Jack’s face. “Are you okay?”

Jack didn’t know how to respond to that question. It felt like everything around him was crumbling. He wanted to toss Gwen over his shoulder and take them far, far away from this damn island.

“My catch was shit this morning,” he found himself admitting.

“Wait, do you not have any fish for me today?”

“I have fish for you. Just not as much as usual.”

“Oh. That’s a shame. Why was it bad?”

Jack leaned against the wall, sighing deeply. “Things have been shit for a while. Each year, it gets worse, it seems like. It used to be that you’d get one bad season but bounce back the next.” He shrugged. “Not sure what I’ll do.”

“This has been happening for a while? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jack was surprised at the hurt in her voice. “Because it’s my problem, not yours.”

“Maybe, but friends tell each other things they’re worried about. I’ve told you about plenty of things. You could, for once, let your guard down and talk to someone.”

Jack didn’t know what to say to that. He’d never even considered talking about this subject with Gwen or anyone else. He’d always taken care of his own problems. He’d only ever relied on himself, and it had been like that since he’d been young.

“I can’t necessarily do anything about it,” Gwen was saying, “but it’s nice to have a shoulder to lean on.”

Jack’s throat felt dry. He didn’t know what to say to that.

“You look like I just told you I’m a vampire who wants to suck your blood,” joked Gwen.

That remark knocked him out of his stupor. Shaking his head, he replied, “Nobody’s said something like that to me.”

“Really? No one?”

“Weren’t we talking about fish?” He desperately did not want to have this conversation. He felt like he should be lying down on a couch while some shrink asked him why he had commitment issues. ~I’d rather swallow knives~, he thought sourly.

“Are you going to be okay? Be honest.” Gwen raised her chin.

“Of course I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

He stepped closer to her. He could smell her sweet scent, and he was fascinated as he watched the pulse in her throat flutter. The memory of how soft she’d been, the sounds she’d made, made desire sweep through him.

She seemed to know what he was thinking about. Gwen was chewing on her bottom lip, which made Jack want to haul her into his arms and kiss her. But then something crossed her face, and she took a step back from him.

He hated that. He hated that she seemed intent on avoiding him.

Sighing, he pushed his fingers through his still-damp hair. “Look, we can forget that night ever happened. I shouldn’t have suggested it. It’s my fault.”

“I don’t want to forget it!”

She seemed as surprised by the admittance as he was. She added in a sad voice, “I’m a mess. I’m sorry.”

“Will you stop apologizing?”

Her eyes widened, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

Jack knew he was probably being too harsh, but he’d run out of patience today. “You’ve got your issues. I have mine. Whatever. I don’t care. Either you want this or you don’t. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s not that simple. Come on, even you know that.”

Now he gave in to the urge to haul her into his arms. She let out a gasp of surprise. “Kissing you, touching you, making you feel good? Yeah, baby, it’s fucking as simple as that.”

Gwen was breathing fast, her breasts pushing against her emerald-green sweater. The color made her eyes seem even greener. Jack also noticed for the first time that her lashes were tipped with blond. It was such an intimate detail that it made his own heart stutter.

“But if you’ve moved on,” he said, his voice rough, “that’s fine. Just tell me, for the love of God.”

“Moved on? To who?”

His fingers were digging into the flesh of her upper arms, and he forced himself to loosen his hold. “That man down the hallway. I heard you flirting with him.”

“Flirting? What?”

Jack growled. When he leaned down to kiss her, though, a door opened down the hallway. Before Jack could react, she’d squirmed from his embrace.

And then the guest who Gwen had been flirting with earlier appeared.

Instead of the rival Jack had imagined, a tiny old man tottered out of the room. He was completely bald, his glasses taking up half of his face. Despite his stooped posture and obvious age, he still managed to walk at a fair clip. After a quick hello and goodbye to Gwen, he just as quickly went down the stairs.

Gwen didn’t say anything for a long moment. Neither did Jack. Her lower lip was trembling, and then her chin, and then her entire body was shaking with soundless laughter.

Jack glared at her. “It’s not funny.”

“You thought I was flirting with Jerry—” Gwen let out another peal of laughter.

Jack just crossed his arms and waited for her to stop. She giggled, snorted, and then when she looked into his face, started the routine all over again.

“You sounded flirtatious.” Even Jack knew how stupid he sounded.

“I was being courteous, you weirdo. And anyway, you never know. Maybe Jerry is my type.” She grinned. “He is very nice, after all. He’s already invited me to play checkers with him later tonight. Who knows what we’ll get up to after that. Maybe we’ll watch reruns of ~Murder, She Wrote ~and go to bed by eight o’clock.”

“Are you done?”

Gwen patted him on the chest. “Am I done teasing you? Never.” Her expression turned more serious. “You don’t have to be jealous. I’m not interested in playing checkers with anyone but you.”

Cupping the back of her neck, Jack tilted her head up. “Are you being honest? Or just trying to spare my feelings?”

“I don’t care that much about your feelings,” was her wry response.

That made him kiss her. He knew he should’ve warned her, but the urge was too great to ignore. When she responded, though, he let himself kiss her for a few seconds longer before breaking their embrace.

“You want to try again?” Her words were a whisper.

“Yeah. I do.”

She beamed at him. He almost looked away, because he knew he didn’t deserve that kind of look from a woman like Gwen. But being the selfish asshole he was, he didn’t tell her no, either.

“My place or yours?” he rasped.

“Mine. Your place is too far. How about Saturday night?”

“It’s a deal.” He brushed his thumb across her lip. “I’ll be counting down the days.”