"Well, you are polite. Be ruder and they'll leave you alone."
"I tried that. They just assumed I wasn't feeling well and plied me with their soup recipes and nasty herbal teas."
Jack laughed. Luke just glowered.
Luckily, the Salty Shack was too much of a dive bar—even during lunchtime—for the island's old-biddy population.
Luke never called them old biddies, of course. He was too polite, and Jack knew Luke would take offense if Jack said the term out loud.
Luke was like that. He tended to want to see the good in everyone. Rather like Gwen, Jack thought.
The thought of Gwen brought back memories of their night together. He hadn't seen Gwen since then. He'd been dealing with a busted pipe at home and hadn't delivered Tuesday's order. Had Gwen noticed? Or had she been relieved?
Luke snapped his fingers in Jack's face after they'd sat down at a sticky table. "Did you hear me?"
Now it was Jack's turn to glower. "No. And don't snap your fingers like I'm a damn dog."
"I said, have you talked to Gwen yet? She hasn't responded to my emails."
Jack frowned. That wasn't like Gwen. Had she gotten second thoughts about putting together the business plan for Luke?
"I haven't seen her in a few days," hedged Jack.
After he and Luke had ordered burgers and drinks, Luke said, "Well, I'm getting the vibe that she's not interested. It's fine if she's changed her mind. I just need to know so I don't waste my time."
"You could talk to her yourself, you know."
"I only have her email. Besides, I'm driving over to Seattle this weekend and will be gone for two weeks. I don't have time to track her down."
"I'll talk to her."
Luke grunted. Jack was grateful when their orders arrived, which put a pin in talking about Gwen.
He'd been racked with guilt since she'd shown up at his doorstep. He should never have touched her. But he'd been so sure that he could help to end her fear of sex. He'd been too sure of his own prowess, and now he didn't know if she'd ever talk to him again. His own ego might've destroyed their friendship, and it made his stomach turn to think about it.
"You know, every time I say Gwen's name, you get a look on your face," said Luke.
Jack didn't feel compelled to reply.
"I mean, if you're interested in her, you should ask her out. She's single, right?" Luke bit down on a French fry. "I might ask her if you don't."
That made Jack see red. The jealousy that burst through him surprised him in its intensity. Apparently, the jealousy showed on his face because Luke chuckled.
"Don't strangle me, dude. I'll leave her alone if it pisses you off."
Jack took a long drink of his beer. "She's too good for you."
"Oh, I'm sure she is. But we should always aim high, right?" Luke lifted his glass in a toast, which Jack grudgingly returned.
"Then again, she does smile a lot," said Luke. "I've only talked to her half a dozen times, but she was always smiling. It was kind of weird. Have you noticed that?"
Now Jack really had to restrain himself from decking his friend. "No, I hadn't noticed," he growled.
Luke raised an eyebrow. "Really? I doubt that. Everyone who I've talked to about her mentions it. That, and her red hair."
"Who are you talking to about Gwen?"
"I don't know. People? You know how small towns are. It's a circle jerk of gossip."
"Then I'd ask that you don't gossip about Gwen, especially if you're just going to talk shit about her."
Putting up his hands, Luke let out a little laugh. "Whoa, whoa. I'm not talking shit about her."
"You were just criticizing her."
"Fine, I was. A little. I won't do it again." Luke gave Jack a speculative look. "I've never heard you get this defensive over a woman before. It's interesting."
"Just shut the hell up, Wright, before I break your pretty face."
Luke only laughed. By the time they left the Salty Shack, Luke had managed to apologize enough to satisfy Jack.
When they stepped into the sunshine, Luke nearly collided with a woman. She dropped the bags she was holding, Luke apologizing and helping her.
It was Jocelyn Gray, Gwen's cook.
"It's fine," Jocelyn was saying to Luke.
Luke, though, wasn't listening. He was putting the groceries back into the bags, but based on Jocelyn's expression, she wasn't happy about it. It didn't help that Luke was putting the bread at the bottom, then a carton of eggs, and then heavy cans on top of it all.
"Look, it's fine," Jocelyn repeated. When Luke didn't stop, she said sharply, "Will you stop already? You're screwing everything up." She grabbed the bag away from Luke.
Luke stood and dusted off his pants. "I was just trying to help," was his mulish reply.
"Maybe not everyone wants your help." Jocelyn grabbed the rest of her groceries and headed off without another word.
Luke eventually turned back toward Jack. "What are you smiling about?"
"You really fucked that up."
"And that makes you smile?"
"The exalted Luke Wright getting put in his place? That'll always make me smile."
Chapter Twelve
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."