Page 6 of Tropical Heat

The previous owners leased the property out as a vacation rental, but when COVID hit, they could not keep up the mortgage payments. Zak, seeing the long-term potential, had bought it out of foreclosure. Even at a discount, it was far more house than I could afford on a deputy’s salary, and wondered how Zak had come up with the down payment. But didn’t ask, since it was none of my business.

My bedroom was one of two on the first floor and had its own bath. The kitchen and living room were communal areas. The rent he quoted was well within my budget, and I wrote him a check for first and last on the spot, and moved in the next day.

I’ve never tried to hide my bisexuality. Zak knew I preferred men and said he was fine with same-sex relationships, but emphasized, maybe a little too vehemently, that he was straight. I lied and said his sexual orientation was none of my concern because he wasn’t my type. In truth, Zak is exactly the kind of man I am attracted to. But even if he were gay or bisexual, the fear of losing his friendship would keep me from telling him how I felt about him. If you don’t let people get close, they can’t hurt you. If nothing else, my father had taught me that much.

The other tenant, a guy I never completely trusted, moved out a few months after I moved in. Zak struggled to find a replacement. Prospective renters did not like that the crazy shifts we work had us coming and going when most people are sleeping. Eventually, I offered to pay more in rent if he agreed to not move anyone else in. For the past nine months, it had just been the two of us, and I am fine with that.

Over dinner, Zak announced out of the blue, “I have a date Saturday.”

While I took a bite of taco to cover my jealousy, he described the attractive brunette he had recently met. As stunning as he made her sound, I doubted she could compare with the ER doc who had patched me up earlier.

Normally, I prefer men over women, but Morgan Lewis was no ordinary woman. Breathtakingly beautiful, she captured my attention almost immediately. More than a pretty face with a smoking hot body, she was passionate and strong-willed. My gruff personality had not kept her from advocating for her patient. Despite disagreeing with her point of view, I respected the conviction with which she expressed it. However, I was fairly sure the feeling was not mutual.

Zak seemed to be waiting for a response, and although I had not been paying attention, I said, “She sounds terrific.”

Once we finished eating, Zak insisted on checking my wound and changing the dressing. I assured him it was just a scratch, but he would not let it go. “Human bites can be more serious than a dog bites. Did you know there are over 700 types of bacteria living in your mouth at any time?”

I was grateful he had waited until after dinner to share that little fact. When he removed the bandage, he blew out a breath. “Dang, she got you worse than I realized, but it doesn't look like it's infected.”

The antiseptic liquid he used to wipe my wound stung like hell, but I didn’t let him see me wince. “I'm sorry this happened, but you must know it was your own fault, right?” He tensed as if he expected a repeat of our earlier argument.

“You're right. I should have let you do your job first. She was scared and lunged at the first thing she saw, which was my arm.” I looked at the wound, wondering if it would leave a scar. “Don't look so surprised. I can admit when I'm wrong.”

“That has not been my experience,” he chuckled. “Next thing I know, you’ll be dropping the assault charges against her.”

“No. I thought about it, but realized the only chance she has of getting clean was if she's locked up in County. They have programs there to help people like her. Even if they don't work most of the time, maybe it will be different with her.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my cynical, ‘all-criminals need to be punished’ roommate?” he asked with a laugh.

“Where are you going on your date?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“She's not from around here, so I thought I would take her on a tour of some of my favorite sights.”

Oh great, the woman was a tourist. Out of towners are a real pain in the ass. They come down to party and have no regard for the people who live and work here. Over half of the calls received by the sheriff's office involve problems caused by tourists.

Even if the woman were as special as Zak claimed, what was the point in spending time with someone who would be gone at the end of the week? One-night stands have never been my thing.

I didn’t say any of this to Zak. He was a grown man and could do what he wanted. But as far as I was concerned, my duties to Largo County did not extend to providing out of towners with a vacation fling to tell their friends about when they returned north.

“Do yourself and her a favor,” I said. “Unless you want to bore her to death, skip your usual spots. Hemingway has been dead for over sixty years. No one cares about his house or cats, any more. And instead of taking her to the aquarium, maybe take her out to the reef for a little snorkeling. Give her a little excitement.”

“If you have so many great ideas, why is it you never have a date of your own?” It was a good question. Maybe it was time to stop pining for my roommate and find someone else. Someone like Dr. Lewis.

Five

Zak

There was a full moon in the cloudless sky. The rhythmic rumble of high tide lapped at the shore across the street. Dante had to be at work early in the morning and gone to bed shortly after dinner. But I had the following day off and was feeling restless.

The old wooden steps groaned as I descended into the yard. In the distance, a dog yapped while I went through my stretching routine. Once sufficiently warmed up, I took off at a jog towards Rock Point.

I hoped my nightly run would allow me to clear my head. Even before I invited Dante to move in with me, I considered him a friend. Sharing my home with him had deepened that friendship. But he could be a real pain in the butt at times.

He knew I was straight, but liked to joke that a good blow job would change all of that. Lately, his teasing felt more like flirting. My concern was that a part of me enjoyed these flirtations. That, combined with the fact I could not seem to stop looking at his dick, had me worried.

No matter what my roommate might think, I was not into guys, and had never been tempted to sleep with one. Not that I had that much experience with women, either. Usually when I try to talk to a woman, I get all nervous and make a big mess out of it. Which is why it was such a surprise when Morgan agreed to have coffee with me and later consented to a date. At least I think she knew it would be a date.

My point is, I like women. I like the way they smell, the way they feel and the way they look. So why did Dante’s opinion matter to me? Maybe it was because, deep down, he embodied everything I wanted to be. He was not afraid to speak his mind, confident, and fearless, while I lived in constant fear of failure.

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