Page 60 of Wanting a Family Man

“Thanks,” Cloe said, surprised that he came aboard. “Is everything okay? Is Storm?”

“Still napping. Em’s with her. Is that all the trash?” Reid eyed the bag.

“It should be, yes. Thanks.” She was bemused as he gave the bag a spin and tied it off.

“What are you doing here?” Trystan asked as he came down from the bridge.

“POD,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Please tell me you were going to buy her a beer.”

“I was, yeah,” Trystan said.

“I’ll buy.” Reid gave a good-natured nod. “After I help get everything squared away here. Em will join us as soon as Storm’s up.”

Cloe opened her mouth to say she didn’t really like beer, but Trystan said, “Thanks,” which seemed to accept for both of them.

He took up the hose for washing the deck and Reid walked away with the trash so Cloe didn’t have a chance to ask what a POD was. Proof of Delivery? She got back to cleaning the fridge and putting the last load of dishes away from the dishwasher. Reid returned from disposing of the trash and started to squeegee all the windows so they sparkled.

“That took less time than it usually does,” Trystan said when he and Reid were shouldering the laundry bags to take them up to the lodge.

“Oh, look at what the cat is dragging in.” Reid nodded at where Logan was striding toward them in shorts and a T-shirt. “A day late and a dollar short, as usual.”

“I was mowing the lawn!” Logan said defensively. “Sophie was in the garden. Call the landline next time so we hear it. Ijustsaw Em’s text. I’ll buy, all right?” He patted his pockets. “Actually, I forgot my wallet.”

“There’s a shock.” Reid exchanged a tired look with Trystan. They both shook their heads with disgust.

“Geez. Tough crowd here today. I’ll text Sophie to bring it.” Logan was still patting his pockets. “Actually, I forgot my phone, too. I was in a hurry!” he added as his brothers both scoffed. “You text her,” Logan told Trystan. “I’ll take this and meet you in there.” He took the laundry bag off Trystan. “Get that girl a beer.” Logan nodded at Cloe and started up the wharf. Reid was right behind him with the other bag of laundry.

“I don’t usually drink beer,” Cloe confided to Trystan, wrinkling her nose. “Plus, there’s enough on board. Why go to the pub?”

“Hmm?” Trystan lifted his head from texting. “Wine, then. Have a root beer float. Get whatever you want.” His phone dinged and he snorted at the screen. “Sophie says she’s already on her way. She says Logan would just expense it anyway, so put it on the company account. She’s so shameless. Everything is locked up.” He pocketed his phone. “You just have to get that one.”

Baffled, Cloe closed the door into the saloon and touched the button to lock it.

“What exactly is a POD?” she asked as she dropped to the wharf and followed him to the ramp.

“Prick of the Day. It’s a fun little tradition my dad started.”

“You sound like you’re being sarcastic.”

“It’s not exactly something you want to win.” He paused at the top of the ramp. “But if you do, the consolation is that someone buys you a beer.”

“Trystan!” Biyen shouted as he raced across the grassy verge from the lane. “Mom just told me what POD means.”

“She did?” Trystan shot an astonished look to Cloe, then across to where Sophie was making her way toward them at a walking pace. She wore shorts and a T-shirt and a messy ponytail.

“It should be PPOD if it’s Party-Pooper of the Day,” Biyen said.

“You got that right. Tell Cloe what else your mom said about it. She’s never heard of it before,” Trystan prompted.

“It’s when a customer is really annoying and ruins your day, but you think you can’t tell them to go to heck because you would get fired. Instead, you keep your temper and put up with their poopiness. Then you tell your boss, and he buys you a beer to thank you for your patience. I’m sorry someone was poopy to you, Cloe.” He slipped his hand into hers as they finished walking to the door to the pub. “People should just be nice to each other. It’s not that hard.”

“Right? I just said that myself the other day.” And her throat was closing, she was so in love with this kid.

“Nice improv,” Trystan said to Sophie as she caught up to them at the door he held.

“I thought so. What happened?”

“Guy on theStorm Frontthought Cloe was singularly responsible for our Wi-Fi connectivity and lack thereof.”

---