Page 1 of Father Figure

CHAPTER ONE

“I can’t believe it’s been ten years already. Happy anniversary,” Samson cheered, tilting his bottle in the air. I tapped my bottle of rum against his in a toast.

The aged sweetness of the Rhum JM XO we picked up in Martinique made it the perfect drink to celebrate the success and longevity of our business. I took a whiff from the bottle, the toasted nut, lemon, and sage, making my mouth water for a taste. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I took a long pull; the flavors bursting over my tongue—sweet mango, nutmeg, and cinnamon, as well as the brightness of the passionfruit and the smokiness of the caramel.

“To Harlowe Charter Adventures.” Samson laughed. “I can’t tell you how many times people refer to us as Mr. Harlowe instead of Hart and Barlowe.”

“It happens to me, too. Seems like yesterday we were just a couple of dumb kids; dreamers with a college degree and a half-baked idea of starting a charter business. Now we own two boats and we’re busy almost every day from April through September.”

“Feels like a dream, doesn’t it?” he asked, tilting his bottle to his lips.

I watched his throat slide as he swallowed. It always turned me on watching his Adam’s apple bob in his long, slender neck, covered with a shadow of dark stubble. We were like night and day, and not just our personalities. Where Samson was dark, I was light. Sandy-brown hair highlighted by the sun, hazel eyes, and my skin, though tanned, was still shades lighter than his olive tone.

“We’ve been all over the Caribbean and the southern hemisphere. We’ve seen Mother Nature at her most terrifying and her best. We spend our days under the sun, fishing, snorkeling, and scuba diving, and our nights under the stars, bouncing from one bar and nightclub to the next. I can’t even count how many gorgeous men we’ve entertained or the amazing memories we’ve made on our adventures.”

“We’re pretty lucky, that’s for sure.” He took another swig from the bottle.

The moment was blanketed in peaceful serenity. Waves lapped at the sides of our boat, creating the most relaxing soundtrack. The boat rocked me gently as I lay on my back on the deck, looking up at the glittering stars in the endless night sky.

“Do you ever feel like something is missing? Like maybe there’s more out there that we just haven’t experienced yet?”

“Don’t start with your bullshit,” Samson sighed.

“What bullshit? I’m serious.”

“What haven’t we accomplished that you feel we’re missing out on?”

I swallowed the rum and blew out a weary breath. “I don’t know… maybe you’re right.” Sometimes my wandering soul got tired, and I just wanted to stay in one place longer than a handful of days.

“Of course, I’m right. I’m always right,” he joked. “This is living, Cass. We’re living.”

Yeah, what could be missing? Apparently, we’ve got it all.

I shifted in my seat for what felt like the hundredth time and wished I were wearing looser pants—anything but these dress slacks and a button-down shirt. I lived on a boat for six months out of the year, and even when I was home in the off-season, I was never invited anywhere that I couldn't show up dressed in shorts or jeans and flip-flops. But I refused to be the guy that showed up at his kid’s graduation looking like I decided to stop by on my way to grab a burger. Nicky deserved better than that.

Not that he was actually my kid, but sometimes it felt like it. He was the closest thing I'd ever have to becoming a parent. Nicky really belonged to my ex, Brian. After five years with him and Nicky, he began to think of me as his second dad. I’d waited a long time to see him graduate.

Thank God I didn’t lose him when we split.

“Nicholas Laurent,” the dean announced. His name echoed throughout the auditorium.

“Yeah,” I cheered, fist-pumping the air. I spotted Brian six rows over, giving his son a standing ovation. He gave me a small wave that I returned with a smile.

Damn, he still looks good after all these years.

Nicky inherited a lot of his father’s looks. Dark, wavy hair that was always falling into his cinnamon-brown eyes, pale skin, freckles scattered across his tiny nose, delicate cheekbones, and plush lips. Nicky was… Pretty—and small. Maybe that’s why I connected with him so easily. I always felt like he needed the extra protection. Or maybe it was just because we had so much in common.

Nicky developed a love for the sea because of me. He spent plenty of sunny summer days on my boat, learning how to fish and swim, collecting a riot of freckles, and highlights in his hair.

He walked across the stage, accepting his diploma, and shook his principal's hand before turning to wave at the crowd.

My heart squeezed. I’m so fucking proud of him in his black cap and gown.

When it was all over, I met up with him and Brian outside the auditorium. Brian held a camera, taking pictures of his kid.

“Here, let me take one of the two of you together.”

“Thanks,” he returned and handed me the camera. “I'm glad you made it.”

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