Cam doesn’t move. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy sexual appetite.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Excuse me.”
He holds up his hands and moves out of my way. I go to the fridge and grab a water.
“Let’s make some ground rules, Casanova.” I sit on a chair at the kitchen table.
“By all means, put more restrictions on me.” He joins me at the table but flips the chair around so he’s straddling it. Why is that so sexy to me? It’s stupid and childish when he could just sit like a normal person.
“First of all, no girls.”
He raises his eyebrows. “So, no boys for you?”
Crap, I hadn’t really thought about that. I can’t forbid him to have girls here and bring guys back here myself. “I don’t want to find your girls half-naked in the kitchen.”
“Are you suggesting we go this entire time without sex?”
“We’ll just go to the other person’s house.”
He nods. “Fine.”
“Really?”
“What?”
“I thought you’d be more difficult.” I cross my legs and his gaze dips, tracking the movement.
“It’s your house.” He shrugs. “I’ll pay rent, obviously.”
I walk over to grab the spare key from the counter where I left it. “Here’s your key. And we only owe my parents rent. It’s minimal, and they’re so thankful for you sticking up for me that they probably won’t even charge you.”
“I’ll make sure they take my money.”
I sit back down and lean back in the chair while he pulls out his keys and puts the house key on the chain. “So, what are you gonna do now? For money?”
He shrugs but sets his gaze on me. Something about the way he’s looking at me… uneasiness coats my insides. I’m definitely missing something.
“What?” I ask.
“My dad came to me about two weeks ago, wanting to start a new business venture. He wanted me to head the operation. I told him to hold off because I didn’t wanna do it. But now if I ever want my position at the marina back and to be considered for taking over for him when he retires, I have no choice but to do what he wants.”
“Which is?” I screw the cap back on my water then tuck my hands under my thighs, worried about what he’s going to say.
“A fishing tourist boat.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up his hand.
“I’m gonna make it different than yours, cater to a different clientele. He wants more of a luxury experience for people who aren’t serious about fishing. It shouldn’t affect you.”
I stand, unable to sit any longer. “Seriously? Rowdy’s gone for sure then.”
“The way I see it, all three of us will offer something different.”
I lean against the counter, gripping the edge on either side of my body. “Cam, I’ve worked for years to grow my clientele and be a trusted fisherwoman who can handle the tours.”
“That’s why I was putting my dad off, but there’s nothing I can do, Chevelle. As of right now, I’m cut off.”
I want to be furious with him, but he’s in this position because of me. “Why did you do it?” I almost whisper.
He looks at the table. I don’t have to explain what I’m talking about. “I told you. You’re like a sister to me.”
He doesn’t look at me when he says it. I’m pretty sure we both know he’s lying. At least, a big part of me is hopeful he is.
“Well, I never said thank you, so thank you.” I walk out of the kitchen.
“No more rules?” he calls.
I’m at the bottom of the stairs when I stop to say, “I guess we’ll figure it out as it comes. I have to go dry my hair, then I need to go check on my boat and prepare for tomorrow. Take whichever bedroom you want.”
I head upstairs with the ominous feeling that living with Cam is either going to be a dream or a complete nightmare.
Later that day, I’m at the marina, cleaning my boat, when a brand-new expensive fishing boat is towed into the harbor. It takes one of the prime slips that only yachts are allowed to go in. It’s definitely for more expensive charters—I can’t imagine what it cost. The Bakers will probably have servers on the boat. My stomach sinks as I realize there’s no way Rowdy or I can compete.
“Who’s that?” Speaking of which, Rowdy just returned from a charter. I recognize the two guys walking up the dock as guys who’ve been coming to him every year around this time.
“You didn’t hear it from me, but the Bakers are expanding their business interests.”
He frowns. “Fishin’ excursions?”
“Bingo.”
We watch as they get the new boat into the slip. Working the delivery are a group of guys we all call the Baker Muscle—the same four guys who do all the heavy lifting. Neither Mr. Baker nor Cam is even here to see it being delivered.
“More competition. Great,” Rowdy says. “I barely made rent last month and somehow my bill hasn’t come for this month. Did you get yours?”
My forehead wrinkles. “Yeah, last week. That’s weird that you didn’t.”
“I know. It’s almost as if someone paid my bill, but unless I got some fairy godmother I don’t know about, that’s impossible. They’ll probably double bill me next month, really put me out of business.”
Rowdy used to be the only one doing fishing charters. I felt bad when I started Reelaxing Fishing Tours, but we cater to different clientele. He has a long list of customers and takes out groups no bigger than four. My boat is bigger and I can go up to ten, so I usually handle the bigger parties. I suppose Rowdy is the small, I’m the medium, and now Cam will be the large.
“What do you know about it?” He nods toward the new boat.
“Cam’s heading it up.”
He stares at me for a beat. “I heard somethin’ about a scuffle on Porter’s boat last night…”
I nod. It doesn’t matter. By tomorrow, everyone will know that Cameron Baker beat up a guy because of me, but I’m not going to be the one who spreads that news. Besides, the bruise on my face is clearly visible, even with the foundation I put on before I came down here.
“I always found it so interestin’,” Rowdy says, both of us watching our competition being placed in the prime spot in the marina.
“What?”
“How the apple fell so far from the tree.”
I laugh because that is so Rowdy, saying something odd that needs explanation. “What do you mean?”
“Cam isn’t anythin’ like his family. He’s always down here, talkin’ to us, not up there lookin’ down on us.” He nods toward the building. “He looks out for us and…” He looks me up and down. “Protects us.”
I scratch my neck and turn away from his piercing eyes. So, he knows. Great.
Rowdy is right though. Mr. Baker never walks the docks. The Baker Muscle does all his work for him, whereas Cam is down here with us in the trenches. Hearing the stories, making sure everyone makes it back to port, lending a hand when someone needs it.
As they finish with the boat, Vinny, another captain, walks down the pier and stops to see what we’re looking at.