Page 50 of Fight For Her
I found an old ratty rag and wiped my running nose on it. It made me sneeze, which blew more dust into the air. “You’re the best.”
She batted her lashes dramatically and tilted her head to the side. “I know, what would you do without me?” She added, “What about Coby? You guys just got back together. Did you tell him about the interview?”
I looked down, playing with a frayed edge of the makeshift handkerchief I’d used. There was no way I could look into her eyes and lie. “Uh, yeah. He knows. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with us. It’s still so new. But I have to think about what’s best for me.”
“You’re right. I’ve always said, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” Shrugging, she pushed aside the bin behind her and squealed so loud I jolted.
“Oh my God, is there a spider? Or a snake? What is it?”
In her hands was an ancient-looking tape deck, circa 1985. “Music will make this so much better.”
“You scared the crap out of me!” My heart was about to burst out of my chest.
“Sorry! I couldn’t contain my excitement. Let’s see what we’re working with.” She hit eject with a click and pulled out a gray cassette. “Hell yes! Footloose soundtrack.”
“Good find!” I joined her, scattering more bins to make space in the room. “Hit play on that baby and find out if the batteries are still kicking.”
Kenny Loggins’s angelic voice belted out through the speakers and we danced and sang our way through the rest of the bins. I was having so much fun Ialmostforgot about my Coby daydream and the stress of the interview.
Chapter 25
Coby
Shawn,Aiden,andIfound Mike at the back exit of the inn. Him and his uncle were taking trips back and forth from a shed on the side of the property, carrying sandbags and wooden boards. We jumped in to help out carrying as much as we could, except for Aiden, who found out where the router was and insisted that he’d be more help seeing to the WiFi situation. I was happy to have him out of my hair. Seeing Shawn’s unmistakable smirk as Aiden shuffled away, I knew he felt the same.
The four of us worked for the entire morning, pairing up and securing every window with plywood, locking the ones with shutters, removing the last of the outdoor furniture, and placing a few sandbags around the entrances that were vulnerable to flood water. Tim assured us that in all the years of the Marin’s owning the inn and restaurant they’d never had any flooding or major damage, but he liked to err on the side of caution. The hum of the fridge and our labored breaths filled the space.
“Beers on me,” Tim said. He pulled out four cans and slid them to each of us and then grabbed a container of meats and a loaf of bread from another shelf in the fridge. “I’ve got the generator running this fridge and a couple lights and outlets over here, then another one for the walk-in next door.” He took off his ball cap and ran a hand over his peach fuzz hair with a groan. “I don’t know how we’re gonna feed all these people though.”
Mike piped up, “It’ll be okay. Most of the guests left and the locals will have to pitch in. Don’t worry about it. Let’s make the best out of the situation.”
“Here, here,” I added and clinked cans with Mike. “I know the girls are planning something nice for you and Jill tomorrow. As for feeding us, we’ll figure it out.” I held up my turkey sandwich, “This kinda thing is perfect.”
Tim sighed. “Well don’t think we’ll be taking a dime from you for the room charge. This is not the guest experience we promise.”
I laughed. “Try and stop us from paying.”
Shawn added, “Not like you can control the weather. Plus if you’re Mike’s family, then you’re our family.”
Mike’s round face lit up as he thanked us. Tim continued to apologize a few more times in between swigs of beer, but by the time we finished eating, Ginger had found us and beckoned him and Mike away to help fill more jugs of water.
“Ready for me to kick your ass?” Shawn grinned and took his last swig of beer before swiping his hand over his mouth.
I stood, pushed my chair in, and cracked my knuckles. “You mean, ready for me to hand your ass to you, right?”
“Eh, I don’t know about that. You’ve been away for a couple weeks. I’d be willing to bet you’ve barely gone for a jog all month.”
“Willing to bet, huh?” I scratched at the rough stubble of my chin. “Let’s say I have a lot of pent-up frustration to get out and leave it at that.”
We headed next door to the empty restaurant, re-soaking our shirts. The wind was picking up and Shawn had to holler for me to hear him.
“Listen, I don’t need to know about your pent-up sexual frustration. Save that for your girlfriend,” Shawn chuckled.
“Look who’s being a creepy pervert now.” I laughed as we went inside and moved tables and chairs to give ourselves an area to spar. I almost had the knee-jerk reaction to correct him when he called her my girlfriend. That label was still so new but I liked how it sounded.
“Takes one to know one,” he said.
“Touché. Enough flirting, square up.” My limbs itched to move and to get into that flow where I could shut off my mind and let my focus be the opponent in front of me.
