Page 38 of Hello Darling
"Don't crush the cookies," he says to me, pointedly.
I look down and see the box of giant Costco chocolate chip chunk cookies. I look up at Billy and see him watching me through the rearview mirror, his body trembling from holding in laughter.Idiot.
After a lifetime of cockblocking every local boy who’s come near me, my brothers are all of a sudden trying to pimp me out--to a British movie star, no less. I've always known they were crazy, but this makes no sense on any level. The only thing crazier than their belief that I should be spending time with this fellow ishis. If that kiss was any indication, he genuinely seems to want to shag me.
Evan wraps his arms around me after buckling the seatbelt around himself since it won’t fit around both of our puffy coats. I’d say Evan’s Union Jack is currently at half-staff and my All-American undies are half-soaked, and this little family fishing show has gone from PG-13 to rated R pretty fast.
Billy drives around the circular driveway, back out to the road.
“So this is my dog Chet—the actor!”
“Hello, Chet.”
“You can shake hands with him! Shake a paw, Chet! G’boy!”
Evan shakes paws with Chet across the front seat, and leans in so Chet can lick his face.
Evan’s face is getting a lot of action this morning and the sun hasn’t even risen yet.
“Don’t forget to give him acting tips.”
“How could I? Well, Chet,” he says, very seriously, to the Labradoodle in the front seat, “when acting for the camera it’s quite simple really— always hit your marks and tell the truth. Be punctual. Know your lines…And don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
Chet barks in agreement, and now my brother Martin is the only Starkey left for this Brit to conquer.
* * *
I may have to amend my statement about fishing not being a sexy or romantic activity. As the sun rises over Puget Sound, as the waves gently lap against the side of our boat with a view of the lighthouse, as my mellow Pearl Jam playlist quietly plays from my Bluetooth speaker and Evan Hunter glances back at me while he reels in a fighter, I fear I may be the one who’s on the hook.
It turns out watching a beautiful well-groomed man work a banana weight, herring bait and tandem hook while muttering “come on, you fucker, you’re mine now,” with an English accent is actually quite arousing.
If I had a salmon for every time he and I have exchanged hot looks while my brothers weren’t paying attention, we’d have a full icebox.
Evan seems genuinely impressed by our boat, and it is a source of family pride. It’s a forty-foot convertible sport fishing boat that comfortably sleeps six, uncomfortably sleeps seven, and has a full galley and salon. It’s called Cora’s Delight, and it did delight my mother. Every time we come out on it, I bring a little bouquet of whatever’s in season in her honor. She and my dad used to have date nights on this boat when we were younger. For the past few years, my dad has spent nights alone at the marina. We all feel as close to her on this boat as we do at the house. But I’m not going to mention this to Evan. When he asked about the name, I just said it’s named for my mom and that was that. He didn’t push it.
We aren’t too far offshore, where the water’s about ninety feet deep. I myself am not fishing, as I very hypocritically enjoy eating fish but refuse to catch and kill them because it’s mean and gross. My duties include DJ-ing and making sure Chet doesn’t jump into the water or make too much noise. Meanwhile Billy and Keaton and Evan Hunter are drinking beer for breakfast and quietly bro-ing out while holding their rods.
I guess it’s a cheat meal for Evan. He seems to be throwing all caution to the wind this morning. I wish I didn’t like it so much.
My stoic brother Keaton, whom I have seen smile perhaps ten times in my entire life, and goof around maybe twice, stands behind Evan Hunter, grinning at me, pointing at Evan and mouthing “he likes you!” Wink. And then he mouths the words “he wants to nail you so hard” while thrusting his hips back and forth and miming spanks.
This continues while I remain expressionless and notice that Evan is staring at something behind me. I turn my head, to confirm that he is watching Keaton’s reflection in a window. I look back at him. Evan gazes down at me. He doesn’t give my brother shit and he doesn’t waggle his eyebrows at me. He just watches me until I cannot take it anymore.
That’s when I bring Chet with me inside.
I’m in the short narrow hallway, coming out of the head, when Evan steps into the hallway, blocking me. Wordlessly, he stares down at me, takes one more step closer, so that there is no space between us. I shift to the side so he can pass, and as he does, his whole body brushes against mine. This tiny little dance is enough to make me I gasp and my knees actually give out. His hands brace me immediately.
“You alright?”
“Yeah. Waves.”
“Sure.”
He smiles down at me, still gripping my upper arms.
"Have dinner with me tonight."
"Where?"
"Wherever you wish to. It's my last night before I start training with my stunt coordinator and I want to spend it with you."
I shake my head and wriggle free. “I’m sure you can find something better to do. Or someone better to do.”
“Are you? Because I’m sure I haven’t. And I’m quite sure I won’t.”
