Page 4 of Knockin' Boats
“St. Louis.”
“Ah, so you’re a city boy. No wonder you thought I’d go all homophobic hick on you.”
“Guilty,” he said. “But I’m glad to be wrong.”
“Hey, I’m glad too. If you have any trouble while you’re here, you give me a call at the office. I’ll take care of it.”
His expression warmed. “Thanks, man. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I usually don’t speak without thinking, but with all the alcohol…”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I hear a lot of things when the booze starts flowing. Don’t worry about it.”
Carlos moved on, allowing me to unload the rest of the boat. Once the group had gone, I headed to the resort and set about clearing out the trash and wiping down the boat’s interior.
It was a relatively easy job tonight. I’d had to hose puke off the side of the boats a time or two. Tonight had been smooth sailing by comparison.
But that Ash sighting was still under my skin, making it impossible to wind down.
I pulled out my phone and texted Brooks.
Me:
Too late to grab a beer?
Brooks:
Nah, man. I’ll meet you in the bar. I’ve been meaning to catch up with you anyway.
Me:
Cool. Don’t tell Mom.
My mother ran the kitchen for the resort, and she’d been hard at work finalizing a menu this week. No doubt, she’d have a few things to say about me working a double shift, then adding a beer to the mix before going home, but my fridge was empty and I was wired.
I slipped in through the back staff entrance, walked down a silent corridor, and crossed the darkened, empty bar. Soon enough, the resort would open and these spaces would be filled with light and tourists and chatter. But for now, I enjoyed the quiet.
I wasn’t antisocial, by any means. I couldn’t be a boat tour guide if I were. But I preferred small groups to massive crowds. One reason I had chosen to work for Swallow Adventures instead of a place like DreamBoats. Our outings were limited in size, and we catered to vacationing families and small friend groups more than the rowdier parties.
The bar and restaurant was on the ground floor, just across from the lobby. There was another smaller bar on the top balcony that would be open only during the busiest summer months.
Already, the staff had casually started calling themTopandBottom.And by staff, I meant our friend Cash, who’d taken a jobworking the front desk. He’d started it. Probably just to annoy Brooks.
It’d taken on a life of its own now, so no matter how Brooks grumbled, it continued. Probably because Skylar hadn’t been able to hide his amusement, both at the names and how they riled up Brooks.
I weaved through tables set up with white tablecloths. The resort might not be open yet, but it looked ready to serve its next meal at the drop of a hat.
Brooks came through the lobby, looking like I’d pulled him from bed. His hair was sticking up in the back, his T-shirt was rumpled, and his smile was a little too satisfied.
“Did I wake you up?” I asked as he made his way behind the bar.
“Nah, I’m not that fucking old.”
“Did I interrupt something then?”
He smirked. “Do you really think I’d leave my sexy boyfriend to pour you a beer if you did?”
“Probably not.”
He grabbed a pint glass and moved to one of the taps to pull my favorite Ozark Beer Company lager.
