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Real Deal Page 3
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She follows me over to the table I placed in the corner for all the art projects to dry.
“Where do you think you’ll hang it?” I ask her, and tap on the table where she should lay it out.
“In a tree.” She lays it down gently and then arranges the plate exactly how she wants it.
I chuckle. “Yeah, is there a special tree you have in mind?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “My dad let me put up a bird feeder last year and then too many birds came and daddy said they were pooping too much. So, I’m gonna sneak it in the small one outside my bedroom window.” She whispers the last part as though Marcus is right next to us.
“So, you live with your dad?” I ask, knowing I’m a terrible person for trying to dig information out of a five-year-old.
Her small eyes crinkle, contemplating my question. “I can’t live by myself,” she says in a tone that implies ‘duh’ and walks away.
So, she does live with him. He’s not just playing summer time dad. The question remains, where is the mother?
The bigger question is why do I care?
4
Marcus
I park my truck next to my boat shop, Kent’s Restoration. Originality was never my dad’s strong suit, and the name of the shop I inherited shows that. My stomach growls so I head across the street to Double D’s Diner, owned by Don and Debbie Verner.
They’re lifers. Grew-up here, married right out of high school, and if I do the math I’m pretty sure their son, Don Jr., was the perfect wedding gift for Don. All in all, they’re good people, even if their diner sounds like a strip joint.
The door chimes when I walk in. I glance around at the booths and the stools at the counter and sure enough, it’s the same crew that’s here every day. All the retirees in town sit around drinking their coffee and talking about the good ol’ days.
“Marcus,” Debbie says, grabbing a to-go cup and pouring coffee. She slides it across the worn counter to me.
“Thanks, Debbie.”
“Running late again this morning?” she asks, placing a menu down in front of me.
I chuckle lightly. Is my daily struggle that noticeable to everyone around me?
“Yeah, first day of camp.” I give a cursory glance to the menu and place my order with Debbie.
Don peeks his head out from the cut out in the wall behind the counter, where I’m hoping he’s starting to cook my breakfast. I give a friendly wave to him and shoot the shit with Debbie for a few.
A short time later Don comes strolling over from the back, my breakfast in hand. “Tell Lily, to stop by, I have a sundae I need her to try out.” He winks and hands my take-out container to his wife.
I pull out my wallet and pay Debbie. She looks down at the money, scoops it up and smiles.
“See you tomorrow,” she says as I’m leaving.
“Probably,” I remark.
When I duck into my shop, I place my food and coffee on my desk and stare at the boat I’m refinishing for a client out of Portland. He’s expecting it in a few weeks and I’ll be hard-pressed to finish on time.
I inhale my breakfast, then turn my attention to the boat again, sipping my coffee as I appraise what still needs doing in order for it to be perfect. My thoughts drift away from the boat in seconds.
Caterina Santora.
She’s gorgeous and sexy and I want her underneath me for an hour or two so I can make sure she’ll never forget me again.
Shit. I should be thankful she doesn’t remember me because I was a Grade A asshole to her.
My phone rings on the table, but I’ve programmed a special ring for the camp into it and since that’s not it, I ignore it, returning my thoughts back to the boat where they should be.
Where was I? I stand and walk over to my project, my hand trailing along the hardwood that still needs sanding, but my mind once again floats to Cat and I wonder how soft her skin is.
I think of the way her blonde hair swishes around when she turns her head. The way her crystal blue eyes looked down on Lily and appeared so caring. The contrary nature of her hips that are somehow slim, but still curvy.
Stop it. You’re such a pervert. She’s ten years younger than you.
My phone rings again, so, I walk through the shop and pick it up off my desk.
Dane.
I swipe the screen with my thumb. “Yeah.”
“Who pissed in your oatmeal?”
“It’s Cheerios,” I say, unenthused.
“Like I don’t know that. It’s called being original.”
“Not exactly original. You just changed the breakfast—”
“I used oatmeal because you’re like an old man.”
I plop down on the office chair. “Why’d you call?” I ask, taking a sip of my coffee.
“Any of your shows on tomorrow night? Family Feud? Jeopardy? Wheel of Fortune?” I blow out a large breath and he chuckles. “I thought maybe we could have dinner later than four o’clock.”
“You have ten seconds to make your point or I’m hanging up.”
I’m half-listening to the conversation because my gaze veers to the boat again. Something’s just not right. Something’s missing. I stand, still holding the phone to my ear.
“I’m serious about the dinner thing. How about six thirty? That won’t upset your REM sleep, right?” The clanking of glasses in the background tells me he’s probably getting the bar ready to open for lunch.
“I’ll make dinner. You and Toby come over. I can call Garrett,” I say, inspecting the boat further, seeing the problem that needs immediate attention.
“How about just me, you and Nina and Polly?” he asks.
The line goes silent and we both know why.
Most people would say, “You should really start dating” or “I have this woman and I need a wingman for her friend.” But Dane’s making a point. A point he’s been hellbent on needling me with for the past month. He thinks I need female companionship.
Well, I had female companionship when I was in Seattle for business a few months ago. It was easy and uncomplicated and we parted ways the next morning without exchanging phone numbers.
“What did I get from Mommy?” Lily’s sweet voice from this morning echoes in my head. My little girl is too inquisitive to not keep asking about her mom now that it’s on her mind. She needs security in her life and as she gets older, I know she’ll need a female role model.
“So, whaddya say?”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” His voice moves up an octave like he’s an adolescent boy.
“Don’t make a big deal about it,” I grumble.
“Sweet. Let’s meet here at six thirty. I’ll take care of all the details. You just get yourself all pretty.”
“Bye, Dane.” I click the phone off and stuff it in my pocket.
“Jack!” I yell for my right-hand man.
He walks in from the side entrance to the second shop, his coveralls dirty with grease from using his hands and not a rag.
Jack handles the mechanic area of the boats. I brought him on a few years ago when I realized Lily needed more stability—a set bedtime and bath time. After Jack came Clive and Wes. Between the four of us, I can usually get home at a decent hour every night and have dinner with my favorite girl.
“What?” As usual, his snippy attitude is present.
“Check out this right here,” I point to the issue that’s bothering me. “It’s gotta be fixed before we can move on.”
He nods, bending over to get a better look. “I’ll take care of it once I finish with the Roberts boat.”
He heads back to the other shop and I sit down at my computer. I swear I was going to pull up the schematics for a boat sitting in my shop, but somehow Caterina’s Facebook page pops up on my screen.
Fuck if I know how that happened.
5
Marcus
The next evening I’m sitting on top of the picnic table, my elbows resting on my knees, pretending to watch children wade i
n the shallow end of the lake. I’m definitely not staring at Lily’s camp counselor’s ass in a blue bikini that should be forbidden in front of children. Maybe it should be outlawed in front of virile, healthy males over the age of thirty like myself.
My phone rings in my pocket and surprise, surprise, it’s Dane.
“Where are you?” I ask.
Camp was over ten minutes ago, but I guess the counselors got delayed, or maybe they wanted to torture the single dads by forcing us to witness fit, wet twenty-somethings play in the water.
Vic should be assigning them generic black one-piece swimsuits.
“I’m almost there. Can you grab Toby? You’re on the emergency list.” The roar of his muffler sounds through the phone.
“You’re missing out.” I chuckle.
Toby and all his friends start splashing all the camp counselors and suddenly it’s my lucky day. I take back my earlier stance. White generic swimsuits would be much better than black.
“What’s all that girly screaming?” he asks.
“It’s swim day. And no prob. I’ll grab Toby.”
“Swim day? As in, counselors in swimsuits?”
“Maybe. Gotta go. There’s a water fight.” I chuckle, hanging up the phone.
I bet he’ll be here in five minutes and if I’m lucky he’ll miss all the action so I can razz him about it.
There are at least ten camp counselors currently standing in the water watching the children, and six of them are female. Victor doesn’t understand the epidemic he’s going to have on his hands. The longer I sit there, the more dads find their way down to the lake, thinking it’s an everyday Thursday pickup. To their surprise, it’s a teenage boy’s wet dream. And maybe that teenage boy’s dad’s, too.
Caterina is laughing with another female counselor. I never noticed how her cheeks rise into two small apples when she smiles. Nor did I notice the way her hands cover her mouth to stifle a laugh or how she briefly touches the other person’s arm when she’s amused. Damn, I want to pull that reaction out of her.
But all I’ve gotten this week since camp started is a few polite smiles and ‘hello Mr. Kent.’ She hasn’t acted as though I’ve seen more of her than what that bikini she’s wearing reveals.
“What did I miss?” Dane sits down next to me, trying to catch his breath.
“What the hell do you do all day that you can’t be here on time?”
He glances over to me and then concentrates ahead of him. I can’t blame him, we don’t get views like this in Climax Cove very often.
“Does Victor realize he’s giving every dad here beat off material for tonight?” Dane asks. A few of the dads milling about laugh, knowing it’s true.
A small ball of anger begins brewing in my center. The idea of these dickheads thinking about what’s under the blue bikini hugging Cat’s tits gets under my skin. That beat off material is for me and only me.
“And to answer your question, I had to go down to the county for some paperwork.”
Dane’s been doing some heavy renovations to Happy Daze the last few years, expanding and making it a more family-friendly bar and grill during the day.
“Sorry, that sucks.”
Both of us continue our conversation as we pretend to watch our children. I can multitask though. My gaze veers to Lily to make sure she’s not drowning, but she’s taken swimming lessons since she was one, so I don’t have to worry too much.
“We can talk about that shit later.” Dane waves me off. “Fuck, this is so not fair. How is my kid getting more action than I’ve seen this week?” He bites his fist, watching Toby and his friends pour a bucket of water over his camp counselor’s head. Her yellow bikini doesn’t exactly hide the fact the water might have been slightly chilly.
Lily looks away from the action in the lake, finds me sitting there, and smiles. “Why do I suddenly feel dirty?” I mumble to myself.
Lily runs from the lake and Caterina says something to one of the other counselors and follows Lily’s path. Our eyes lock, but Cat is quick to shift her focus elsewhere.
“Daddy!” Lily screams and jumps into my arms, soaking me in the process.
“Hi, sweetie.” I prop her on my knee.
“Hi, Uncle Dane,” her sweet voice says.
I clear my throat so he’ll turn his attention from the lake to my daughter. Dane turns to me, back to the lake, and then realizes why I’m clearing my throat.
“Hey, kiddo. Swim day, huh?” He leans back on his hands, focusing his attention on her.
“Come,” she jumps down from my lap and grabs my hand.
“No, sweetie. I’ll wait until you’re done. Go have fun with your friends.”
She smiles and runs off.
“Damn, a little warning, huh? I’m practically tucking my dick between my legs,” Dane says and shifts in his seat.
“Um, how do you think I feel?”
“Who’s the dickhead?” Dane asks, head nodding to the lake.
One of the male camp counselors approaches Cat. She laughs at his joke and shakes her head. I don’t miss the way his eyes light up when she puts her hand on his forearm.
“Who?” I pretend my heart isn’t skipping beats from the adrenaline coursing through my system. Just call me a fucking caveman.
“Yeah, okay. Your eyes have been glued to one counselor, in particular, this whole week.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I glance around to make sure no other parents overheard us.
“Is that how you’re gonna play it?” he asks, turning toward me and raising his eyebrows in question.
I say nothing, watching the dickhead pick up Caterina by the waist, her squealing and him dropping her in the deeper part of the lake. She stands up and now she’s dripping wet in her blue bikini that probably matches the color of my balls.
Once again, I swear her gaze veers over to me as she pushes her hands through her drenched hair. Before I can be certain, she’s concentrating on the kids again. She claps her hands and announces swim time is over for her group.
“Man, your chick is a fun sponge,” Dane says because Toby’s camp counselor is still in a water battle with her kids.
I push off the picnic table to head over to pick up Lily and gather her things.
“Just makes your blue balls a helluva lot more painful than mine.” I clap him on the shoulder and walk away.
“Don’t forget, six thirty,” he calls out.
I forgot about the date I agreed to for a second. With a sigh, I wave my hand up in the air to him.
“Good practice if you ever want to go after what you really want.”
I shake my head and suppress the urge to give him the finger as I continue walking toward the lake.
While all the other parents make their way over to their kids, Cat approaches with a towel wrapped around her waist. Her shoulder length hair has a slight wave to it that I never noticed before.
“I’m so sorry we’re running late,” she apologizes. “They all did a great job listening today and deserved an award for their hard work. I’ll walk them back to the cabin, they’ll change and then be ready for pick up.”
The group starts walking toward the cabin, and I pull out my phone to look like I have something to do since I just noticed Krystal heading toward the lake.
“Mr. Kent.” Cat’s voice sounds from nearby in that professional tone she uses with me.
I look up to find her at my side and the smell of coconut fills my nostrils. This must be some kind of test from up above I swear to God. There’s not much more that could make Caterina Santora more tempting right now.
“What’s up?” I ask trying to appear as nonchalant as possible and not at all like the guy in his mid-thirties checking her out.
“Do you mind walking with me for a moment?” she asks.
“Sure.”
Is she going to fess up that she remembers me? Maybe she’s going to ask me to keep it quiet. Like I would tell anyone.
She nods h
er head indicating the path that leads to the cabin.
I fall into step beside her, stuffing my hands in my pockets to try and stop the urge to pull that string around her neck.
“We had an assembly today,” she says.
Obviously, she’s all about business talk. “Oh, okay.”
I glance to my side and see her twist her lips for second before continuing. “It was about family dynamics. The different types of families.”
“Okaaay...”
“I don’t want to overstep, but Lily started crying afterward.” She meets my gaze for the first time.
“Crying?”
She nods. “Yes. She has a lot of questions concerning her mom.”
I blow out a breath and rub the back of my neck as we walk. Other than the first day of camp, Lily hasn’t asked me anything else about her mom. And like hell I’m going to bring up the topic of her mother when she’s in prison.
“Her mother isn’t in the picture,” I comment, hoping to keep this conversation brief.
“I got that much from the talk I had with her, but Lily’s pushing for more information.”
I can’t help but wonder who wants it—Lily or Caterina?
“She’s not old enough to understand. Thanks for your concern, but I’ll handle it.”
She huffs and stops in the middle of the path before we catch up to some of the other parents. “By ignoring it?” Her tone is judgmental and she almost seems angry. I’m wondering why she thinks this is her business at all.
“Excuse me?” My own tone is firm and I’m trying to make it clear that she should back off, but I see the gleam in her eyes. She’s going to push this issue.
“You can’t just act like nothing is happening when a little girl wants to know if she has a mother or not.” She plants her hands on her hips and glares at me.
I take a step back a little stunned and a whole lot pissed off at her reaction. That she thinks she knows anything about me and my daughter. “Maybe you should stick to popsicle sticks and glitter, Miss Santora.”
Her chest heaves with a deep breath and her eyes widen. “I think you should be honest with your daughter, Mr. Kent.”