Prologue
Easton
"Easton, get your ass out here." The sound of Joe’s voice shouting from the front of the store caused me to jump; he was always so loud.
Ugh, my boss could be such a pain. "Coming, Joey." I smirked, knowing that name would piss him off.
Walking out of the stock room of Boathouse—the surf shop I worked at—I spotted Joe standing there with his tatted arms crossed over his chest and his foot tapping rapidly. He tried to look all tough and mad, but I wasn’t sure why he bothered. He’d always had a soft spot for me, and I knew it. I walked over and kissed him on the cheek.
"Girl, stop batting those lashes at me and don’t stare at me with those big, green eyes. You're lucky I love you. No one gets away with calling me Joey except you. It's Joe for fuck’s sake. You'd think after seven damn years, you’d get it right."
Of course, I knew his name. I'd known him since I was fourteen; I just loved to push his buttons.
I hopped up onto the counter and swung my legs back and forth. "I just like Joey better." I shrugged and tried not to smile as I tied my pink hair up in a messy bun.
He huffed and glared at me. “You’re never going to learn, are ya?”
I shook my head as I tried to hide a smirk. “Why did you call me out here? I was working in the back, you know. You interrupted me in the middle of inventory.”
He moved aside, revealing a face I never thought I’d see again.
I blinked a couple of times before I was able to gather any words. “Tanner Fields, to what do I owe the pleasure?” My voice cracked, betraying my false confidence.
He looked down at his shuffling feet. Apparently, he’d suddenly fallen shy. My stomach did a twist, then flopped, and finally rolled over into a somersault. This boy was a fuckton of trouble for me, and I wasn’t having it—not again. He’d always made me feel shit I hadn’t before, and I didn’t like it one bit.
He cleared his throat and looked up before squaring his shoulders. “I actually just moved here. Got a job offer from Chem Central through my college professor—it was too good to pass up.” He shrugged like his words hadn’t just caused my world to flip on its axis. “I thought maybe since I didn’t know anyone here, I would come to see how you’ve been doing,” his voice shook as his words trailed off.
What in the actual fuck?
One
Do I Have To Wear A Dress?
Two years earlier
Easton
Joe was lucky this was for charity, or he would’ve been on his own. Not only did I hate being the center of attention but being on stage always left me wanting to barf. It was the time of year I dreaded the most, and this asshole had me wearing a dress. Again.
I should’ve thanked him for always having me start the fashion show, instead of finishing it. I would’ve lost my lunch all over the crowd if I had to watch the others go first—that wouldn’t have been good for the cause.
Sitting backstage, I was so nervous that I couldn’t stop cracking my knuckles. My mom used to tell me that my fingers were going to end up big and manly from the habit, but she was full of shit. The sound of the speakers screeching stopped me mid crack.
Joe’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “First up on stage, we have Easton."
That was my cue to head out. I took a deep breath and stumbled a little but managed to catch myself before anyone noticed.
"Easton is five-seven and a local here in Pahokee. She’s sporting a prism-pattern dress paired with marron sandals, both designed by Roxy. Give us a little turn, Easton, and show off that pink hair.”
I rolled my eyes and begrudgingly spun for the crowd. I hated this part of my job. Every year we held a charity fashion show at Barangas, which was also the bar where I worked. The only reason I let Joe talk me into this was that it was for a good cause.
“Easton works with us over at Boathouse as well as here at Barangas. She enjoys surfing and parties hard.”
The crowd seemed to find that amusing—I, on the other hand, did not. So, I flipped off Joe as I left the stage. Thank God that was over, and I could finally breathe again.
Barangas co-sponsored the event with Boathouse, so they always went all out. They provided the venue for free as well as a bunch of food and beverages for those who attended. They rented a stage and set it up in the middle of the bar with lights and props to give it a real runway feel, and high-top tables lined the floors so everyone had somewhere to sit and watch the show. Joe had a register at the bar so we could check out customers just like we would at the store. I headed over to the till so that I could start ringing up sales.
Joe raised a lot of money for charity with this event. He had hooked up with every single one of our suppliers this year to negotiate rock-bottom prices, allowing him to sell the items at a discount for the event. It drew a crowd, and all proceeds went to a local charity. This year it was Karing for Kids.
“Now that I’ve embarrassed the shit out of Easton, head on over to the bar, where she’ll be checking everyone out tonight.”
I shook my head as I walked off the stage. “Thanks, Joe, love you, too,” I shouted before blowing him a kiss with my middle finger.
We had a great crowd tonight, a way higher turnout than usual. It was also a younger group than we’d had in previous years. Typically, we attracted local parents and grandparents, who purchased for their kids and grandkids. It was a win-win—their loved ones got things they wanted, and they were happy to support a local charity. We’d had some younger attendees who purchased for themselves but never this many.
I had no fucking clue where all these college kids had come from; it wasn’t even spring break yet. I definitely wasn’t complaining, though.
Pahokee wasn’t the most popular spring break destination in California, so we didn’t get a huge influx of college students every year. But spring break still made for an interesting time for us locals, especially for someone like me—no strings attached, just how I liked them.
I didn’t do relationships. I’d never even had an actual boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, I would totally keep one around if he were good enough in bed. But we wouldn’t date or cuddle, and I always tried hard not to have sleepovers. I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t built with a dating gene if there were such a thing.
With the increase in attendees, we were busier than any other year. It was a good thing we had Jane and Phil. They were already working with folks asking questions and helping people with sizing and changing rooms.
Joe had a few more models lined up, but once the checkout opened, people started to shop so they could get first pick.
“Hello, Easton, how are you, sweetie?” Mrs. Glenn was smiling at me when I turned around.
“Hey, Mrs. Glenn, I’m good, thank you. Getting a few things for your grandkids?”
“Yes, dear. You know I love to support local events. This is my favorite because I get to spoil my grandchildren at the same time.”
She was a sweet lady, and I couldn’t help but giggle as I rang up her purchases.
The next couple of hours continued in much the same way, customer after customer. Now that it was dinner time, I finally got to take an unofficial break for a few minutes. I grabbed a seat and closed my eyes as I rested my head on the back of the chair. I sighed when I heard a commotion at the end of the bar.