Page 33 of My First Time Fling

I turned and saw that the blond guy—Em, Tate had called him—had come to join me now that he was finished with his customer.

“Yeah, but not the fun kind,” I quipped, before clapping a hand to my mouth. I was pretty sure Tate had called Em his boyfriend, but that still didn’t mean I should be dropping double-entendres with people I’d just met.

Em snorted. “Just wait till the conversation moves on to wood. Tate can go for hours talking about the hardness of wood without once cracking a smile. It’s really unfair.”

I laughed. “I feel like I should be paying attention. I’m trying to buy a bed and breakfast out here, and if I manage to do that, it’s going to need atonof work. But every time people start talking about drywall and sandpaper my mind just goes blank.”

“Oh, wow, really?” Em looked excited. “Which bed and breakfast? Or do you mean you’re starting a new one?”

“Uh, kind of both, I guess? I’m trying to buy the Sea Glass Inn out here, but I don’t think it’s been operational for a while.”

“The Sea Glass?” Em’s eyes widened. “I thought that place was condemned.” Then he winced. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—well—it’s kind of—”

“No, trust me, I get it.” I smiled. “It’s definitely like, one part bed and breakfast, one part disaster area. Maybe two parts disaster area, to be honest. But I just kind of fell in love with it.”

“No judgement from me,” Em said. “My parents did the same thing when they started the Wisteria Inn.”

“Wait, your parents own the Wisteria?” I said. The Wisteria Inn was a bed and breakfast over in Adair, another town on Summersea. I’d stayed there once, on an early visit to the island. “I love that place.”

“My brother, Deacon, is the one who runs it now,” Em said. “Him and his husband, Mal. Actually, Mal’s around here, somewhere. Deacon’s working tonight, but you should definitely talk to Mal.”

I blinked. Em and Tate were dating. Em’s brother was married to a guy. Was this island a lot gayer than I’d realized, or had I just happened to run into the few guys who were?

“Are you and your boyfriend going to be around for a while?” Em continued.

My heart thumped loudly. I was a second away from correcting him, and explaining that Mark and I weren’t together, before I remembered that I didn’t need to do that. Mark was the one who’d started this whole game, so he was the one who would have to finish it.

So I just smiled widely and said, “Yeah, I think so. We’re going to get dinner, at least.”

“I’ll probably close up here in another half hour or so,” Em said. “Once I’m done, I’ll round up Mal, and we’ll come find you.”

I had to physically pull Mark away from Tate—they were deep in discussion about mitre saws, whatever those were—promising him they could pick up the conversation where they’d left off after we’d gotten food, but I began to regret my decision as soon as we sat down at a large picnic table with our plates of crabs, because I had an epiphany.

Crabs were the least sexy date food in the history of the world. They were so messy, with their shells and their innards, and yes, the butter was delicious, but it goteverywhere. Case in point, I managed to flick some onto my cheek after a particularly large bite. Mark laughed when he saw it, and I had to wipe it off with a papery napkin from the silver dispenser in the center of the table.

“You missed a spot,” he said, chuckling—and then he reached out, brushed my cheek, andlicked his finger.

It was all I could do to keep my eyes from falling out of my head. Was I asleep? Was this a dream? There was no way that this was really happening, right?

Except that it was, because Em, Tate, and a third guy with sandy brown hair and hazel eyes who had to be Mal came over a few minutes later, and soon enough Mark and Tate were talking about the virtues of acrylic versus latex paint, which waswaytoo boring a topic of conversation to be something my subconscious had dreamed up.

“So, Em tells me you’re going to buy the Sea Glass,” Mal said, turning his attention to me as Tate and Mark moved on to discussing the pros and cons of different paintbrush fibers. “That’s exciting.”

“Well, hoping to buy it,” I said. “Haven’t actually done it yet.”

“I’m sure it’ll work out.”

“Fingers crossed. Though to be honest, the current owner just mentioned some water damage that happened last week, and I kind of wonder if I’m biting off more than I can chew. I’m better at the breakfast part of the equation than I am at the bed part.”

Mal grinned. “I completely understand. I’m hopeless at half the stuff that needs doing at the Wisteria. Luckily, though, Deacon’s hopeless in the kitchen, so we make a good team.”

“How long have you guys been running it?” I asked.

“Only about a year together,” Mal said. “I came to Summersea last summer and was just supposed to be a fill-in cook at the Wisteria. But Deacon had been running it for about a decade at that point. His parents died pretty young, so he took it over and helped raise his two brothers at the same time.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. I mean, sad, too. For obvious reasons. But that’s great that they were able to keep the business in the family.”

“Yeah.” Mal nodded. “Yeah, it really is.”

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